by Gayle Eden
It was dinner hour at the ranch when he arrived. Alex left his buggy with the hands.
“She’s in the house,” the young hand told him.
“Thank you.” Alex smiled and laid his jacket on the buggy seat, hands in his pockets as he stepped up and crossed the porch.
“Alex!” Corey was passing by the doorway and spied him through the screen. “What brings you out today? Come in.”
“I wanted to ask if you’d join me in the morning. I want to look at some land.” He stepped in.
“Have you had dinner?”
“No.”
“Join me.” She motioned to the kitchen.
He followed her there.
“Who is the land for?”
“For me. I want to build a house.”
She set the table and filled two bowls with soup. Setting out milk and bread. Seating herself, he noticed with a wry grin, before he could offer to.
He took his own chair. She must have come in off the ranch and bathed. Her hair was damp and curly, her yellow shirt clean, the denims much washed—and her feet were bare.
After grace and eating some of her soup, she said, “I’m sure Falon and Lucas like having you in that big old house.”
“Of course, it’s not that…”
“You shouldn’t feel in the way because they’re getting married.”
“I don’t.” He slid his half-empty bowl away and rested his elbow on the table. “It’s nothing to do with them.”
Sitting back, having finished her meal, Corey regarded him for silent moments. “You strike me more as a townish man, Alex Croft.”
“I do?”
She nodded and grinned. “The suits. What you do for a living. Your accent, and…well, you just do.”
He grunted and looked out the window. A lacy curtain fluttered as it was opened to the sounds of the ranch.
He heard her say, “You don’t seem like a man who goes too far from his work.”
“Bad habit.” He smiled slightly and looked at her.
“I know.” Her own grin was soft. “It’s in the blood.”
He nodded and watched her get up. She took the bowls and cleared the table. Handing him coffee before sitting down. “I understand wanting a place of your own. I really do.” She cradled her cup. “And of course I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.” He finished his coffee. Afterwards, she walked him to the buggy. He gave her a time to be ready and waved before heading off. Alex would tell Lucas of his plans. But, he wanted to actually find some place first.
* * * *
Leaning against the porch brace, Corey watched that buggy head down the main road. Alex Croft was one of those men who didn’t realize how attractive his was. Corey discerned from dropping by the office, from Falon too, that he was a hard worker, driven somewhat. She liked to see him in more relaxed settings. He had a boyishly, sexy grin. Sometimes—he even forgot himself and laughed aloud. Alex attended most of the socials she’d gone to. He always asked her to dance.
Corey often flushed when his intense jasper eyes were on her directly. His coloring being all warm and tawny. There was something oddly alluring about his city accent and clothing, his business like façade—and that sportsman’s body. She hadn’t thought much about how men of his background played, but whatever he did, certainly honed him in the right places.
She was around hands all the time. She and Noah butted heads still—although thankfully in a better natured way since she’d matured some. Corey sure still liked to get him riled up. But, a woman had to notice someone as different as Alex.
He was certainly mature and serious most of the time. But, there was something she glimpsed now and then that hinted if he loosened up and relaxed, he’d be very witty, maybe even a little wicked. She was guilty of thinking that intensity could also translate into passion.
Seeing as how she felt the stirrings of that for a few years now, Corey sinfully liked to picture him in her mind stripped down to his toasted honey skin, with that wheat and brown hair mussed—those jasper eyes glowing with a whole other kind of fire. It was safe to think of attractive men like that, she reasoned. Not in a million years, did she think Alex took her for anything but the Landry youngest—who normally was anything but serious. Though, that was her own fault too.
She enjoyed studying Alex. Falon had mused a few times aloud about him. Her sister worked with him, lived with him, so Corey figured Falon had a handle on who the man was. A contrast, according to Falon. She told Corey he was competitive, excelling at sports, and studies. A man who didn’t want to fit a mold, yet one who had been raised to do just that.
Corey thought of the times he had been on the range. Yes. She supposed she sensed his admiration and envy for the cowhands who did what they loved. You would never know it, given his long hours and work, the serious in which he handled every case. She supposed outside that, he was a man who just might want something more.
She turned and went inside, figuring she would turn in early. Ryder had started sleeping in Frank’s old room back in the winter. He was up first and gone, and didn’t come in until late. She’d leave a note for him and Rose.
Yawning she fell onto the bed and hugged her pillow, realizing she’d not even been into town since the spring round up started. She loved the ranch, but it would be good to escape it for a day. It was always interesting to talk to Alex too.
* * * *
Corey was up and ready when Alex tooled the buggy into the yard. Wearing a light buckskin coat over her denim shirt and trousers, she carried her hat and left off her spurs, since she figured they weren’t going to do any riding.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” She climbed up beside him. Noting he wore almost similar clothing to her own. His jacket was cut more tailored for a man’s riding outfit.
He turned the buggy and they headed out, the sun just risen enough to dry the dew. Corey watched his hands, sure on the reins, and smelled cologne she associated with him that was earthy and pleasant. His uncovered hair was ruffling as he picked up the pace.
“How many acres you looking at?”
“Three maybe.” He glanced at her. “I’ve no real idea.”
She nodded but when he attended the road again said, “It depends on what you want to do. How many animals. Or maybe orchards, or something else. The land hereabouts is good for lots of things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed. “Alex. A man who is as smart and educated as you, as fit too, can try his hand at all sorts of things.” Corey regarded his profile. “You’re not satisfied in what you’re doing now, obviously.”
“Not so obvious.” He smiled back. “You’re very perceptive.”
“No. I’m a natural born rebel.” She snorted. “Except for ranching. I love it. Well, I suppose I love being around horses, and cattle, animals. I like the freedom of ranch living. I wouldn’t do well in a town or city. I’d go daft.”
He reached down and handed her the satchel. “The maps are in there. Three pieces of land. Only one has a house, but it is derelict. I’d want to design and build one.”
“You can do that?”
“I think so.”
“Yeah. You likely can.” She took out the maps, and looked them over while he drove. They talked on and off, and the more they did, the more Corey related to what he was saying. There was a time even she was in awe of the Croft name. Considering all she’d learned of his sister, of his family, she didn’t think many people would envy them. She had hints from her mother after she and Finn had wed, that his marriage to Andrea had been manipulated by the father—with Andrea’s consent.
“You should see the marker soon.” She kept out the one map and put the rest away. “Six acres is decent if you just want to garden and keep a few horses and such.”
They came upon it. It was nearly obscured by spring weeds. Alex steered the buggy down a rutted road, unused for months or longer, already weeded over in places.
T
he scent of spring was sharp, fresh growing grass, and a creek they spied on the right. The land formed a shallow basin and valley. They stopped at the edge of the path, both spying a half-built cabin.
“I wonder what drove them off?” she murmured when he helped her down.
“The man’s wife died and he had a brother back east who ran a lucrative laundry business.” Alex walked around, looking at the property. “I suppose he didn’t have the heart for it anymore. He put it up for sale and headed east.”
They ambled and circled around the hilly side, Corey admiring the trees and lay of the land, the large spread of valley—understanding why the man chose it. A bit sad, that he didn’t get to see his dream there.
The sun rose. They removed their jackets, leaving them on the buggy, and strolling to the stream. A stretch of bank was shaded with leafy trees, newly grown, they rippled overhead. Baby birds chirped along with the gurgle of the creek.
Sitting slightly back, her palms behind her, and knees bent, Corey observed Alex roll up his sleeves and drink from the stream. His damp hands pushed his hair back before he sat down, his wrist on his knee.
“It’s a nice place.”
“Yes.” He turned his gaze from the valley to her. “Quiet, but alive somehow.”
Corey’s lips curved, understanding what he meant, a little distracted by how the sun turned his eyes a lighter jasper, fascinated—that his lips were sensual, semi full, and that he was so darn handsome. “So you build yourself a nice house here. Get a couple of pure bread dogs. Have a decent stable. Horses have room to run. And—you could grow a garden.”
He laughed. “I suppose I could research that.”
“You could.” She relaxed back on her elbows, straightening her legs and crossing her ankles. “I’m sure I could teach you. Help you, do your ordering of seeds and all.”
“But then you’d have to show me how to plant them, and when to harvest…”
“You’d need a cook. A housekeeper. Probably a hand or two.”
“I won’t jest about that. I agree. I would.”
Her gaze discreetly landed where his top three buttons were undone. He had a strong throat, a honey skin tone that didn’t fade in winter. “Why don’t you—do some research and find something you feel challenged by?” Her gaze lifted, finding him watching, observing that look, but she refused to blush.
“I think I will.” His eyes went over her swift before he stood and offered, “I’ll fetch our lunch. This is a perfect place for a picnic.”
She sat up and watched him stride to the buggy. Admiring his long legs and taut backside—that he had broad shoulders and yes, that somewhat untamed way he wore his hair.
Her instinct told her that Alex knew she was a woman. The swift look said he did. Her good sense—reminded her that most men didn’t think “good” women should flirt, lust, and treat natural desires… naturally. It was stupid, of course. She worked around men. She knew how they thought. Given that Alex was a “city man” regardless of how relaxed she was otherwise around him, Corey didn’t know if revealing an attraction to him was all right.
He returned and spread a plaid and unpacked a feast—
“What kind of man thinks of a picnic with wine and cheese?” She popped cheese in her mouth and sipped from the glass that had been carefully packed.
Grinning at her in that naturally boyish way, Alex swirled his wine in the glass, dangling from his fingers, wrist resting on his bent knee. He was just across from her.
“Most men would… where I am from.”
She shook her head. “I can’t see a cow hand thinking of this.” She waved toward the tiny sandwiches and fruit, a couple of tarts. Corey relished it, and drank another few drinks.
“You seem to be enjoying it.” He observed, chuckling as she ate more.
“I am.” She held her glass for more wine. After another, Corey blinked. “I’ve only had wine at Christmas though. I’m wonderfully woozy.”
Really laughing at that, Alex then grimaced. “I’m picturing you hanging out of the buggy on our way home. So let’s make this your last glass.”
She laid back, the glass resting on her stomach. “Oh, no, sir. I kind of like this feeling.” Looking up at fluffy clouds, she murmured, “I think I’ll have wine evvveeery evening.”
Chuckling at that drawn out statement, Alex packed up the basket but came to lie beside her, looking up as she was. His own glass refilled.
“Does that look like a wizened old man to you?” He pointed to a cloud. “Perhaps Aristotle or Socrates. Maybe one of the gods. Zeus?”
She snorted. “It looks like old Seth. He used to come around selling pots. He stank so bad that Rose and I would hide from him. Mamma tried to stay upwind.” Since he was laughing, she did too, and added, “The beard there looks like his. I’d swear birds nested in it.”
When his chuckles subsided he claimed, “You’re an amusing woman, Corey.”
“Had to keep a sense of humor growing up.” She sat up. “My father didn’t have one. “
He sat up too. “Falon talks about him.”
“He wasn’t no worse than your own, in his way I guess.”
“True.” Alex nodded, his eyes going over her face. “All of you seemed close to Sara though.”
“We are. Although I gave her fits.” Corey raised her brow, smiling. “Defiant, head strong, too curious.”
“Curious?”
“Is it?”
He laughed. “No. That was a question. In what way where you curious?”
“Every way. I still am. I’m not nosey, you see. I just like to know things rather than make suppositions.”
“Hmmm,” Alex made that sound still looking at her. “Maybe we’re all like that. We just don’t admit it.”
“Maybe.” She finished the wine and rose to rinse the glass. It was obvious by the time she packed it, she was tipsy.
“You’d better sit down.” He laughingly rose and took her arm when she weaved a bit.
“I’m fine.” She grinned and looked down at his hand, then up to his face. “As much as I find you interesting and different, and all of those things, it’s really hard sometimes to ignore how handsome you are.”
He stilled and smiled. “Am I, handsome?”
“More than that. I think that word is like pretty. But it don’t quite do it.” She blinked and shook her head. “Doesn’t quite say it? Lord. I can’t talk.” She laughed.
He eyed her mouth, and then met her gaze. “I’ve a flask of coffee you’re drinking before we leave.”
“Okay.” She tried to look serious. “Did I offend you?”
“Not at all, Corey.” His hand came up and ruffled her hair.
She sighed and shook her head, sitting rather awkwardly and pulling him with her. “Mamma always believed I hated being female. I didn’t—don’t. But there are some things about it that really ain’t fair.”
“Like getting foxed on a glass of wine?”
“No. Like—” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I really try to be more discreet and not so blunt anymore. It makes Rose daft. And I have been known to embarrass myself. Although—I refuse to pretend to be something I’m not—or ashamed of normal things.”
His brows were up. “I’m lost here.”
She waved her hand. “Don’t get me started. I know I’m—what did you say? Foxed. I’ll say something and you’ll be either shocked, or uncomfortable around me. And I like you, Alex.”
“I like you too.” He relaxed back on his elbows. “I think this is the place, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s perfect.”
After a few moments, Corey turned her head and looked at him, knowing the warmth of her skin and light head were warning signs. She should just shut up and ask for the coffee now. However, she liked the relaxed state, the way he looked out in the sun—all warm and tawny.
When he began to return her stare, he was wearing a slight indulgent grin, but Corey felt the sun strike her autumn eyes and warm her already wa
rm face. She felt feelings and sensations she’d been battling for a couple of year’s wash over her. She had been hungry for a long time for all those things that women weren’t supposed to feel.
Her body betrayed her as it normally only did in private. “Kiss me, Alex.” She whispered it, hands resting on her ribs.
He closed his eyes a moment and then looked away. “I’ll get that coffee from the buggy.”
When he started to stand, she reached out and took his hand, the heat settling somewhere in her lower half. “Don’t think badly of me, Alex.”
“Never.” He husked smiling unsteady.
“I’ve been pretty good thus far. Curiosity wise.” She grinned slightly. “I mean I satisfy it in fairly harmless ways. It’s an odd kind of hunger, isn’t it? A little bit like the wine makes you feel, only—”
“Corey.” He sat back down, close to her, his thumb brushing her wrist. “Do you know how many people would have my head on a pike for—”
“We don’t have to tell anyone.”
He groaned and then slowly leaned down; his face in her vision a moment before his mouth touched hers.
Corey moaned.
He lifted his head, watching her lave her mouth. Then Alex groaned once more, covering her lips again. This time his tongue came into play, teasing and then entering her mouth.
He tasted like the sun melting on her tongue. Corey’s one hand cupped his head, her other held his upper arm. She had seen enough kissing to be a fast learner. Rolling her tongue over his and gliding them together—put a tremble in her body. Panting soft and quick through her nose, she arched as the sensations spread.
Alex lifted his head, his eyes telling her with heavy heat he liked the taste of her too. “Just a kiss.”
She rolled her lips, a little greedy for the flavor and feel he had given her. Her fingers sifted the hair at his nape. “It feels good. Better than wine.”
“I’m taking advantage of you.” He shook his head insisting that in a groan.
“Because I’m younger? Because I’ve had some wine?” She shook her own head. “If anything, it’s the other way around. I want kisses. I want to feel things. I want you to kiss me again.”