Ely agreed, and the brothers said goodbye. He looked around, taking in the scenery around him. He’d been joking when he told Jonas that Montana was so far from heaven. He loved the Caribbean, the blue waters and long beaches. But here, the air was clean and brisk, and he felt...free. It really was Big Sky Country, and his spirit responded to that with energy he hadn’t felt in a long time. He loved wide-open spaces, and had forgotten that after being in the city for so long.
Removing the mountains of snow from the driveways and paths was refreshing, and provided a physical outlet for the sexual frustration that still clung to him. He felt much better after a few hours of hard work, until he let himself think about the kiss from the night before, and the soft bedsheets that Lydia was sleeping on. How the pink roses that covered the bed would provide such a stark contrast to the inked flowers and designs on her skin.
Suddenly, he was much warmer than he should be, not even feeling the wind as it passed by.
Down, boy. She wasn’t interested.
She’d kissed him like she was interested, another part of him argued. He could press the issue, and she might give in—and then what? She’d be pissed at him again. And rightfully so.
Chemistry was only hormones, after all, and he was a Marine, right? Self-control was hardwired into his way of life. And when this was done, he’d go back to the Caribbean and help himself to any one—or maybe more—of the beautiful women there who were always available. He stood, taking a breath as he shoveled a path to the front door of the farmhouse, refocusing.
Clearing the final bit of snow in front of the steps, he looked across the field where Lydia expertly managed the tractor, clearing the area around the garage so that she could get her car out. Who would have known?
She constantly surprised him. He wished he could take a picture of her on his phone and send it to Tessa—she was certain to be as surprised by this other side of Lydia as he was.
If Lydia ever told her. Hopefully, she would. Tessa was made of strong stuff, and she stood by her friends. Lydia had to trust in that.
Planting his shovel in the snow, he saw that Smitty and Kyle had gone to take care of the animals, and Lydia was still pushing snow around with the tractor. Ely decided to take the opportunity to look around while everyone else was occupied. He’d already noticed that none of the locks or windows had been broken or jimmied. Lydia had locked her doors, so how had the intruder gained entry?
It was an old door, old lock, and it was possible Lydia’s mother had handed out copies of the keys to anyone she thought needed one. He’d have to find out. He planned to buy new locks and install them first thing, and seek out the local sheriff and talk to him about what was going on. Just in case.
He’d promised Lydia he wouldn’t tell Tessa, but he’d never said he wouldn’t tell the local authorities what had happened.
Wandering around the outside of the house, predictably, any footsteps were erased by snow, but he saw something small and off-color kick up through the snow as he stepped and bent to retrieve a small vial. It was empty, and it could be anything. Still, he put it in his pocket.
As he turned the corner toward the back, he was interrupted.
“Looking for something?”
Kyle was standing by the edge of the porch, watching him closely. How did this guy keep managing to get the drop on him?
“Thought I dropped my keys, but I guess I left them inside,” Ely lied smoothly.
Smitty was a good enough guy, but Kyle gave him an itchy feeling. He was protective of Lydia, but there was something shifty about him, as well. Kyle watched more than he talked, and he watched Lydia in particular. Ely didn’t like it.
Kyle barked out a short laugh. “If you lost them out here, you’re sunk. And wouldn’t that be convenient? Give you another excuse to stay.”
Ely smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Turns out I don’t need an excuse. I’ll be staying awhile. I’m going to help out a bit while I’m here.”
Kyle didn’t seem to like that idea very much, but just shrugged. “Whatever,” Kyle said with a snort, and turned to walk away, heading back to the barn.
Maybe a background check into Kyle wouldn’t be a bad idea, Ely thought as he went inside to get his keys—where he had left them on the counter just inside the door. Beside them, he saw a slip of paper and picked it up. It was a veterinary report on one of the cows—the animal had been poisoned.
The door opened and closed behind him, and he turned to find Lydia, pink-cheeked from her outdoor exertions. Their eyes met and held for a second, before she walked past.
“What happened to this cow?” he asked, the piece of paper still in his hand.
Her eyes darkened. “Well, if you read it, you already know. But it’s fine. We got to it in time.”
He touched her elbow as she passed him. “Lydia, someone tried to kill one of your animals—and Kyle told me about the spray paint.”
She took a breath. “Listen, there are some people from my past who might not be crazy about me coming back. I think as soon as they know I’m not staying, this will stop.”
“What else?”
Reluctantly, she told him.
“And the sheriff wouldn’t help?”
“There was nothing they could do. It’s not exactly a situation for them to send out a forensics team and post surveillance,” she said sarcastically, but he sensed the agitation, and the fear, underneath her tone.
“Okay, well, hopefully my presence here in the house might discourage anyone, as well.”
She agreed.
He paused, inhaling. The house smelled amazing and his mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, and his stomach was reminding him now. Loudly.
“What smells so good?”
“I made a batch of pancakes earlier and left them warming in the oven before I went outside. Let me get the coffee on, and the eggs and sausage, and we can all have brunch in about an hour.”
“All?”
“Yeah. My mother always had everyone in for Sunday breakfast, but Thursday works, too, considering how hard everyone is going at it out there,” she said, peeling off her coat and gloves—much sturdier winter gear than she had been wearing the night before—to reveal her slim, petite figure.
“What can I do to help?” Ely offered.
He suspected maybe that she wanted to invite the ranch hands in so that they weren’t here alone together. Probably a good idea until he got the hang of this being friends thing.
“I’ve got it covered. I think Kyle was going to try to get the tractor over to dig out your truck. You should probably go help him with that. If it keeps snowing like this, we’re going to have to unbury everything again by dinner. You’ll want to get your truck in the garage and under cover.”
“Thanks. If I can get out today, I need to go settle up on my room and get my things. I’ll stop by the hardware store to pick up some supplies, as well.”
Lydia turned to pull some pans out of a cupboard, and the movement drew his eyes to the curve of her backside, and as her shirt rode up, to the scroll of ink that was sketched across her lower back.
“You can take my—well, it was my mother’s—car if you need to. It’s all-wheel drive and should get around okay.”
“Thanks,” he said, turning away as she bent deep into a cupboard, her butt poking up in a very delectable way, making him think thoughts that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking.
After all, they were only friends. Repeating that to himself a couple of hundred times as he went to get Kyle, he hoped it would eventually sink in.
* * *
IT TURNED OUT THAT Ely would have been stuck there whether Lydia had agreed to let him stay or not. They were well and truly snowed in from the storm the night before, and they hadn’t been able to get anywhere close to Ely’s truck. The highway plows had come by and pretty much buried it—they’d have to try again tomorrow, when the snow stopped. If the snow stopped.
Lydia kept herself f
rom obsessing about Ely’s presence by making enough pancakes, sausage and home fries for an army. She couldn’t get his offer out of her mind—some frisky fun while they were stuck here together, no expectations, no strings attached.
Normally, she would have jumped at such an offer. So why wasn’t she? Ely was hot, and he was wonderful in bed. No doubt he could offer her some much-needed distraction from her other, less pleasant tasks. And if she was completely honest, it felt good to have him around, and that he knew about the stuff that had been going on.
She went back to cooking, hearing their footsteps on the porch. She walked back to open the door she had locked behind her. Lydia stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at a world turned completely white, as the men entered the kitchen.
“I’d forgotten what winter here is like,” she said to no one, but found Ely was right behind her. Of course he was, she thought with a sigh. She’d felt him watching her earlier, knew he was fascinated with her ink from the night they’d shared. “It really is like living in a snow globe.”
“We have our share of storms back east, but yeah. This is pretty amazing,” Ely said as he looked with her out at snow that piled over the porch rails, glittering everywhere.
“And it’s just the beginning of the season,” she added.
Then, catching a chill when the wind whipped toward them, she stepped back to close the door, bumping solidly into him.
His hands landed on her waist, steadying her. His thumb slid along the waist of her jeans, grazing her skin at the small of her back and she stilled. He stepped away without another word, but the heat that leaped between them from the simple touch seemed to brand her.
Neither Smitty nor Kyle had seemed to notice anything. As the men ate, Lydia dug out some of her father’s winter clothes for Ely, since the ones he’d worn that morning were soaked. Breakfast passed uneventfully, and they went back to work outside, while she stayed indoors and worked on clearing out some more of her mother’s things.
As the men talked over coffee during an afternoon break, Lydia slipped away upstairs to take a shower and change. She was exhausted, not having slept much the night before, and she closed her eyes under the hot water of the shower only to shriek a few seconds later as it suddenly turned ice cold.
She jumped again as the bathroom door burst open and Ely was there, looking fierce, facing her as she wrapped the shower curtain around herself.
“Ely! What are you doing? Get out!” she demanded, her teeth chattering.
“You screamed. What’s wrong?”
She closed her eyes, understanding why he would be in bodyguard mode after the events of the previous evening. She sighed, praying for patience.
“I didn’t scream, I yelled. In surprise. Cold water. The water heater must have broken.”
His body eased, the tension draining out of him as he realized she wasn’t in trouble, but his gaze didn’t leave her.
“I’ll let Smitty know,” he said distractedly, his eyes glued to her. The transparent plastic of the curtain wasn’t hiding much.
“Thanks,” she said, swallowing hard as she confronted the desire in his eyes.
“Um, could you hand me one of those towels?”
He blinked, as if breaking out of a trance, and grabbed a fluffy white towel from the counter, handing it to her. This time, when their fingers brushed, they both pulled back as if electricity sparked between them.
“You have to go,” Lydia said, fighting the wave of desire that had hit as soon as he walked through the door. She only wanted him to get undressed and join her. “The guys are going to wonder—”
“Ely? Everything okay up there?” Smitty’s shout interrupted them, yanking them out of their daze.
“Yeah, Smitty. Everything’s okay. Apparently the hot water heater broke,” Ely said, tearing his gaze away from hers and walking back out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
Lydia let go of the breath she was holding and wrapped the towel around herself, stepping out and sinking down to sit on the side of the tub.
Why did she have to feel this way about Tessa’s brother-in-law, for crying out loud?
The night they’d met, he’d told her about the woman who had dumped him, and about the life he’d thought they could have until he found out she wasn’t so perfect after all.
Chloe Roberts, an up-and-coming investigative reporter with a father who was highly placed in the U.S. Navy had been the woman to send Ely into a tailspin. And had shot him directly into Lydia’s path. Chloe was supermodel-gorgeous, smart, sophisticated and she’d had Ely wrapped around her little finger—except that she was also wearing an engagement ring on that finger—given to her by another man.
Ely hadn’t known, and he was crushed, not only by losing his dreams, but by unknowingly having slept with a woman who belonged to someone else. Lydia knew he never would have done that if he had known; Chloe had played him for a fool.
Lydia had taken him back to her place because she wanted to ease some of his pain. It wasn’t an instinct she’d often given in to, nor one she had very often; normally, sex was simply entertainment for her. But Ely had been different.
It made perfect sense that he’d used her to forget Chloe, at least for a night—Lydia was the exact opposite of the reporter. For the short while he’d been with her, she had made sure that he wouldn’t think about what he’d lost. Problem was, Lydia hadn’t been able to forget him.
Maybe she was thinking about this the wrong way. By avoiding sex, they were making it a bigger deal than it was. The sexual tension was driving them crazy. Lydia was friends with several of her former lovers, and she knew that desire always seemed to burn out naturally after a while, leaving friendship in its wake. Why wouldn’t it be the same with Ely?
Lydia was no Chloe Roberts, and she wasn’t thirteen anymore, either. But Ely wanted her, and why did it have to be so complicated? She had the things she wanted in life: her business, her friends. Those were the things that counted, and she was lucky to have them. There was a time in her life when she didn’t think she deserved even that much.
Making her way to her room, she took a breath and toweled off, trying to warm up as she dressed and checked out the window, finding Ely with Smitty, moving hay to the barn. Though he was bundled in the thick, wool coat of her father’s, she could see how strong he was just by the easy way he lifted the block of hay and the grace of his movements. As if the heavy bundles of hay weighed nothing.
He was like that in bed, too. Even when he was pushed to the limit, every muscle tensed in high relief as she brought him to the edge over and over, he was the most perfect man she’d ever seen. Certainly the most perfect man she’d ever been with.
It had been such a thrill to have such a powerful man give himself over that way and to watch the intense pleasure he experienced. With her.
Or had he been thinking of Chloe all along? Was Lydia that foolish? Frowning, she supposed it was possible. He had just broken up with the woman less than a day before. He admitted that he hadn’t been thinking straight at the time.
She shook her head in disgust, walking away from the window. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and she was already trying to find ways to renege on their agreement. She recited to herself, again, all of the reasons this couldn’t happen. But in her heart, she would be amazed if either of them lasted the week.
5
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, when they had finally finished clearing the snow, Lydia couldn’t help but notice that Ely looked like he was having the best time of his life.
“I think I have time to get into town. Still mind if I borrow your keys?” he asked.
“Actually, would it be okay if I go into town with you? I need to pick up some supplies.”
“No problem. I’ll heat up the car.”
She handed him her keys and their fingers touched without them bursting into spontaneous flames. See, they could be friends, right? They just had to get through this awkward stage. The moment in the shower had
just been...well, a moment.
It didn’t mean anything she didn’t want it to mean.
Once they got to town, they went their separate ways. And Lydia tried to focus on what she needed to buy for the ranch.
She walked to the small grocery store, figuring she would start there. But as she made her way down the aisles, feeling again like she was out of place, worried that she would bump into someone who would know her, she forgot the list in her hand and found herself staring at a display, lost in another one of the time warps she seemed to be suffering since she’d returned to Clear River. She even heard someone saying her name.
“Lydia Hamilton,” the guy said again, and she turned around slowly, grabbing one package of paper towels from the shelf and tossing them in the basket. She didn’t look up, facing him, though the second time he’d spoken, she recognized his voice.
“Loyal,” she said with a quick stretch of her mouth that didn’t quite approach a smile. “Long time.”
Loyal Slater. Football star, high-school hunk, and her first kiss in their freshman year of high school. His parents owned the ranch bordering her family’s land. That kiss had been the beginning and end of their relationship, since Loyal was anything but.
“We heard you went off and became a big-city girl,” he said. “Sorry about your mom, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said with a nod, anxious to finish her shopping and leave.
She hated coming into town like this. The fewer people she ran into in the process, the better. Strolls down memory lane with old boyfriends were a case in point.
Loyal was all grown up and still as handsome as ever. He kept staring at her piercings like he hadn’t seen anything like them before, but she’d passed two tat shops in Billings, and knew that Montana wasn’t that removed from the ways of the world.
Still, her winter clothes covered the majority of her designs, which often drew attention even back in the city. Lydia considered it good advertising. When people asked her about her ink, she often talked them into visiting her shop, and she had found a lot of customers that way.
Hers for the Holidays Page 6