This was the woman I wanted to wake up next to for the rest of my life.
My fingers tightened on the cup. Whoa. Where had that come from? But it was true. This wasn’t just a sexual dalliance, maybe it had never been that. I had wanted Gemma so badly for so long, I could only focus on the seduction of her.
She was my true mate, matching me in the bedroom. But also in life.
Could I win her heart, as well as her body? Could she ever forget Jack?
“Morning.” I turned and acknowledged her, before turning back to the sunrise.
“Morning,” she answered. The wind lifted her hair slightly, making it dance on the breeze. I reached out and tucked a tendril that had escaped back behind her ear.
She smiled, looking at me with those huge green eyes that could surely melt the heart of any goddamn man.
“Busy day?” She took a sip of her coffee, looking over the view.
“Busy enough,” I answered. I wanted to talk to her about what mattered, her and me. Could we start over, forget Jack? Could she let go of her love for him? But I was mute. The enormity of it overwhelmed me.
And I was scared. Scared she would shake that beautiful head of hers and say no. That Jack was the only love of her life and that she could never consider me as a replacement in her heart, despite what was going on between us.
“Well, better get to it.” I drained my coffee. “Hank and the others are waiting.”
She nodded, not looking at me.
My hands itched to touch her, but I resisted. I walked away without a backward glance.
But the shadow of it followed me throughout the morning, as I herded and branded cattle, laughed and chatted with the men.
I loved her. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.
***
I came to her that night, knocking softly on the door of the cook’s quarters.
She opened the door, standing there in that baby doll nightie of hers, looking so goddamn sexy it made me rise to attention like a soldier to his sergeant. She was my superior, in every way. I had been in the military and worked under some fine men but I recognised her dominion over me, body and soul.
Forever.
“Can I come in?” I whispered, my eyes devouring her.
“Yes, of course,” she whispered back, widening the door so that I could enter.
I walked to the bed, raking my hands through my hair. She followed, looking at me quizzically.
“Lance, is something wrong?” she asked, sitting on the bed and looking up at me with those eyes.
I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to see whether we could start over, leave Jack and the past behind.
Most importantly, I wanted to tell her that I loved her. But the fear overtook me again, freezing my tongue. I pushed her back on the bed, climbing on top of her. She looked surprised, but she didn’t resist.
I suddenly wanted her so much it invaded my blood like a fever.
I found her breasts, and those rosy nipples. I took one in my mouth, sucking and teasing it to peak perfection. She groaned, long and slow.
I couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t a time for languorous love making. I just wanted to be in her, riding her like a stallion.
Claiming her. Making her mine.
I turned her over, hitching her onto her knees, and entered her from behind.
Sweet Jesus. It was incredible. I started grinding into that sweet pussy, letting her juices flow over me.
I could see us in her dressing table mirror; Gemma on all fours, her breasts hanging like overripe melons, swaying with the movement.
It was too much. I could usually pace myself, but not this time. I let out a cry as I flooded into her, the orgasm so intense I almost collapsed across her back.
A couple of slow pumps, and I was done, panting like I had just completed a marathon.
She pulled away from me. I fell on the bed, my eyes closed, enjoying the afterglow.
Maybe I fell asleep for a little while. When I opened my eyes, she wasn’t lying beside me. She was sitting on a chair by the window, staring out at the night.
“Gemma.” I called to her, beckoning. “Come lay beside me.” She turned slowly, and smiled. But it was a sad smile.
“Lance,” she said. “I don’t understand what’s happening between us. But I think it has to stop.”
“Why?” I sat up like a bolt. “Why does it have to stop?”
“I thought I could do it,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “We have such an amazing sexual connection, I thought it was enough. But I won’t be used, Lance. I’m not a sexual plaything. I am a real flesh and blood woman, with feelings.”
“You still love him, don’t you?” I spat it out like it was poison.
Her eyes widened. “Are you talking about Jack?”
“Of course I’m talking about Jack!” I was on my feet now, pacing the floor.
“Admit it,” I continued, unable to stop the torrent of words that were rushing out of my mouth. “You’ve never gotten over him. It’s always been Jack. Even though he treated you like an afterthought, never paying you any attention!”
She paled. “You don’t know what went on between me and Jack.”
“Don’t I?” I stood over her, looking down at that shocked face. “Maybe I know more than you think. About how he cheated on you. About how he could never satisfy you. About how you begged him to do things to you, things that you always dreamt of. I made a list.”
She stood up, facing me. “How do you know that he never satisfied me?” There was a dangerous glint in her eyes.
I had gone too far, I knew, but I couldn’t stop. “I read them,” I said. “All your emails to him, about how lonely you were, about what you wanted.”
If she was pale before, her face was deathly white now. “Hang on a minute,” she whispered. “You read my private emails to Jack?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know everything about your supposed perfect relationship with him.”
She looked like she was churning things over in her mind, and not liking what she was coming up with. “So, that’s what this has been about,” she said, slowly. “The camping under the stars. The dinner at a fancy restaurant. Sex in an elevator. You read that I wanted to do all those things with Jack. And what – you decided to stroll on in yourself and provide them?”
She laughed, suddenly, throwing her head back. “Well, I should thank you, shouldn’t I? Poor little Gemma, desperate for a bit, which she couldn’t get from her boyfriend. Good old Lance Starling will stroll in and save the day!”
“Gemma, it wasn’t like that…”
“Wasn’t it?” The look she threw me was the dirtiest I had ever seen. “You are unbelievable, Lance! Not only do you violate my privacy, you think you are my saviour. But what was the real reason you did it, Lance? Have you admitted that to yourself yet?”
“Gemma, please…”
“I’ll tell you.” She came up to me so that our faces were inches apart. “Because you wanted to best Jack. Because it’s always been about the competition between the two of you. Jack can’t satisfy his old lady, well, watch out! Here comes Lance to show how it’s done, the knight in shining armour.”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not the reason!”
“I don’t want to hear anymore, Lance. You’ve insulted me enough, I think. I want you to leave, now. Get your clothes on and walk out that door.” She turned and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
I got dressed. How on earth had I managed to fuck things up so badly?
Gemma
I packed my bags slowly, every movement like I was treading painfully through water.
He had left, eventually. I had locked the bathroom door, and he had pleaded with me on the other side of it for a while. But eventually I heard the front door to the quarters open and close. I still gave it a few good minutes before I came out.
Yes, he was gone. I collapsed on the bed, sobbing like my heart would break.
> Well, it had, hadn’t it? Broken into a million pieces. It was lying shattered on the floor.
I still couldn’t believe it. That he had admitted so flippantly that he had read my private emails to Jack. He wasn’t sorry for it. Oh, no.
The fact that he had then decided to ‘satisfy’ my desires, because poor old Jack never could. The arrogance of the man. The unbelievable arrogance.
It didn’t matter. It proved what I had suspected, all along. This hadn’t been about any finer feelings, or even a genuine attraction. It had been all about besting Jack.
As it had been forever.
Hell, I could remember when Lance won a sprint in elementary school, beating Jack by a nose. Jack had protested, and the two of them had wrestled for supremacy. The teacher had to separate them. Lance had a bloody nose and Jack had a lump on his head.
But I was not a trophy to be won. I wouldn’t be polished and displayed on his mantelpiece, proving to the world he had bested Jack O’Grady, for the last time.
My face burned at the thought of what Lance had read. It had been private, and he had just waltzed on into our conversations like he had every right in the world. This had been a mistake. I should never have let myself sleep with him, my intuition had been spot on, as usual.
I kept packing. There was no way I could stay here, now. I would go to my parents in Clear Creek, for the moment. They would be surprised, but they were supportive of me. They wouldn’t press me for details, they respected my privacy. Unlike some people.
I zipped my suitcase. It was a funny old world. I had just unpacked it after getting back from New York, after having the best weekend of my life. After admitting to myself I loved Lance. It seemed like a million years ago, now.
I sobbed, quietly. Tears were good, I told myself. It was all for the best, anyway. It’s just as well I found out, now. Before I went any deeper.
Before I admitted my love to him.
***
I walked the streets of Clear Creek alone, lost in thought.
I should have brought a jacket. It seemed that the zenith of summer had finally been reached, and now the days were cooling off. It didn’t matter. My heart was so sore and sick I could probably have walked through a blizzard and not felt it.
My parents had welcomed me with open arms, as they always did. All I had said was that things hadn’t worked out at Starling Ridge, and that I needed a place to stay while thinking about what next to do with my life. They had accepted it. What choice did they have?
I walked down the main street, nodding to people I knew. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to get embroiled in conversations.
That was both the beauty, and the curse, of living in a small town. When things were going well, it was wonderful having people around who knew you and could share your joy. When things weren’t going so well, it seemed like those same people were your judge and jury. Assessing your life from up high, ranking you on a score card. High school graduation: tick. Successful career: tick. Husband and two- point- five kids: tick. Or no ticks, in my case. Just fat red crosses.
I looked up, drawn as if by a magnet across the street. I didn’t want to look. It was still raw. But my head turned, all the same. My bakery. There was a dusty ‘for lease’ sign in the window, lopsided and falling.
I remembered my excitement when I had signed the lease for the shop. I had whizzed around that little space, dusting and sweeping like Cinderella about to go to the ball. I had painted the walls with care, and chosen all my equipment with love. I had tested and re-tested my recipes, until I was sure they were perfect.
And it had all turned to shit, like everything.
I kept walking. I had no desire to peer through the window and see my younger self in there, unaware of what the future held.
The main street ended and I turned randomly, just walking. One foot in front of the other. Destination unknown.
Or was it? For next time I looked up, there it was. Clear Creek High. It was obviously recess. Students lolled around the yard, hanging in packs, the way that all teenagers do. The way that Jack, Lance and I had.
Stop it, I told myself. Don’t go there.
But I already had. My feet had carried me here without my head even knowing. I tried to remember what it had felt like. Being me, so young, so in love.
But who had I been in love with – Jack, or Lance?
I had told myself for years that it was Jack. Jack had swooped in and claimed me like a knight in shining armour, sweeping me off my feet and riding off with me into the sunset. Except he hadn’t.
I had waited for that sunset to materialise, but it had never come. And his armour was growing mighty rusty by that stage, too.
Lance. He had always been there. We were like the three musketeers, charging at life like bulls in a rodeo. I had thought that Lance was riding alongside me, but had he always been the one who was taking the lead?
I shook my head, not knowing anymore. It didn’t matter, anyway. None of it mattered. Jack was dead. Lance had betrayed me, both of us, really. And I was alone, as always.
I shivered. I really should have brought a jacket.
Our ghosts wandered the hallways of that school, blind to what life was going to bring us. Oblivious to our fates.
I was sick of this trip down memory lane. Time to look to the future. Resolutely, I kept walking.
I would not come here again.
Lance
She had disappeared.
No one knew where she was. Jessie was confused, but stepped up, getting the breakfast made and the men fed for the day. They were bewildered, too, and kept asking was Gemma alright? Had she had bad news, or suddenly fallen ill?
I was tight lipped, saying she had to leave for personal reasons. And vague about when she would return. Inside, I was a mess. I couldn’t believe how royally I had fucked up the night before.
Where was she? I should have known she would do this. Gemma was a passionate woman, in every aspect of her life. If something was wrong, she acted quickly. She didn’t sit around and ponder what was the best course of action.
My love. I had let her slip through my fingers. How could I have done that?
I walked restlessly around the cook’s quarters, seeing the haste of her departure everywhere. Items forgotten. The bed left unmade, from our lovemaking the night before.
That stopped me in my tracks.
Had it been our lovemaking? Or had I simply taken her, not caring what she was thinking or feeling. Selfishly, in the desire to claim her, to make her mine. Treating her like an object, rather than the flesh and blood woman that she was. I slowly sat on the bed, my mind in turmoil.
Everything she had said last night was right. I had behaved like an asshole.
Violating her privacy. Treating her like she was a project, to fix. Crowing to myself every time I crossed another thing off that stupid goddamn list. What had I been thinking? Had I done it just to best Jack, like she said?
I shook my head. No. In that she was wrong. There may have been an element of truth to it, but it was bigger than that. Way bigger.
It was because I had loved her forever, and had let her go. I had been too much of a damn coward to stand up and fight for her back when Jack was claiming her. And then I had thought it was all too late. I had been a coward this time around, as well. Concocting a stupid list of her wants and desires as a way back to her. When I should have just come out and told her what she meant to me.
That she was the love of my life.
That I wanted to marry her. Live on the ranch with her by my side, forever.
Was it too late? Was it past the point of no return for us? I stood up. Not if I could help it.
Yes, I had fucked up. But she was worth fighting for. Shit, I had been in war zones. Completed dangerous missions, where my life had been on the line. Been so weary I could have died a thousand times over. I was known for my bravery. It was time to take that strength and fight again. She was worth it. She had always been worth it.
>
Be a man, I told myself. She deserves no less.
***
She had gone back to her parents.
I parked the car on the curb across the street from the house, reminiscing about how many times I had been here as a teenager. Playing third wheel to her and Jack.
Not anymore, I vowed. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I knocked on the door. It seemed an eternity before I heard footsteps approaching.
Mrs Fox opened the door, a look of surprise flitting across her face.
“Why, Lance,” she exclaimed. “It has been so long!”
“It has, ma’am,” I nodded. “Too long! I should have come and visited before now.”
Mrs Fox smiled. “We know you are a busy man, Lance. We never expected you to go out of your way to see us.”
I looked at her. She was a good woman, and her husband, Gemma’s father, was a good man. They had raised Gemma to be the wonderful person she was. I had a great respect for them both. Always had.
“Is Gemma here?” No point beating around the bush.
Mrs Fox nodded. “Sure is,” she said, standing to one side and gesturing for me to enter. “Come on through.”
The living room was exactly as I remembered it, down to the old TV blaring in the corner and the shag pile rug on the floor.
She was sitting at the table, writing in a notebook. She looked up when she heard us come in. Her mouth dropped open.
“Would you two like some chocolate chip cookies I made this morning?” Mrs Fox asked, looking from me to Gemma.
I almost laughed. It was exactly what she used to ask every time I came here as a youngster. But I didn’t think chocolate chip cookies could fix this situation.
“No thanks, Mom,” Gemma quickly answered. “I might just take Lance out the back. Show him your garden.”
“As you wish, dear.” Mrs Fox took the hint, and walked away.
I looked at Gemma. It was like I hadn’t seen her in years, rather than two days ago.
I was struck by her beauty all over again. God, but she was the most beautiful woman who walked this earth. She stood up, gesturing to me to follow her.
We stood in the garden. hen Gemma turned to me. “Why are you here, Lance?” She appraised me slowly.
Cowboy's Barmaid: A Small Town Military Romance (Lucky Flats Ranchers Book 2) Page 16