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Page 14

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer


  MEG CHOSE to ride back to the Circle W with Jed because she wanted to make sure he wasn’t too disappointed about not getting on the show. “It was very hard to choose,” she told him as they drove down the deserted highway.

  “I’m sure.”

  “You are all awesome at your job.” And they were party animals, too. Back at the Steak Out the celebration was still in full swing. When she’d mentioned that she needed to leave because of her early broadcast, she’d had a ton of offers to take her back, and she’d picked Jed. He had the added appeal of having consumed the fewest beers of anyone.

  “I didn’t think I’d make the finals.” Jed chuckled and patted his stomach. “Too much good living and not enough crunches. But I’m happy for Denny. He’ll have fun. Me, I would’ve been too nervous. I just entered because everybody was doing it and I didn’t want to look like a wuss.”

  “Anybody who can eat a jar of those jalapeños is no wuss. I had one and my mouth was on fire. Do you eat those all the time?”

  “Not like I did tonight. Everybody was showing off for you, me included. Besides, it helps if you drink beer. Water doesn’t cool your mouth like beer.”

  “Too bad for me, I’d decided to lay off for tonight. I wanted to stay sharp for when I made the announcement about the finalists. And it was killing me because those margaritas looked delicious.”

  Jed nodded. “They’re great margaritas. You’ll have to come back when you can relax and enjoy one.”

  “I’d like that.” If Clint went for her plan, she would be back for sure. The Circle W just might become her home away from home.

  “I’ll bet there are a lot of things you can’t do that you want to.”

  “Some, but I try to look at the big picture.” Right now her big picture included a certain lanky cowboy. All he had to do was agree to step into the frame.

  Jed pulled his truck up in front of the ranch house. “Sit right there. I’ll get your door.”

  “Jed, that’s not necessary.” She took quick note of the living-room windows and noticed the lights were still on. Her heart rate sped up.

  “I think it’s necessary.” He hopped out, surprisingly agile for such a hefty guy. “If I’m going to tell this story, I want to make sure I come off as a gentleman.”

  She waited until he walked around and swung open the passenger door. When he held out his hand, she put hers into it and allowed him to help her down. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  His smile flashed in the darkness. “Thank you for letting me be the one to drive you home. The other guys were all ready to string me up when you did that. They’ll pounce on me the minute I get back and demand every last detail.”

  “You’re going back?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m going back to gloat, man! Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Meg laughed. “Then let the record show that I took your arm as we walked up the steps.”

  “All right.”

  “And kissed you on the cheek before you left.” She gave him a quick peck.

  “Wow. Now I’ll have to quit shaving so I preserve that spot exactly as it is. Did you leave any lipstick?”

  Meg checked and saw a faint lip print. “Yep. You have evidence.”

  “Cool.” He reached for the screen door. “Let’s make sure ol’ Clint left the place open for you.” He twisted the knob. “Looks like he did.”

  Excitement surged through her as she thought of Clint inside waiting for her. And she knew he would be. “Then I’ll say goodnight.”

  “Same to you, ma’am.” Jed touched the brim of his hat and charged down the steps, obviously bound for a moment of glory at the Steak Out.

  Still smiling, Meg walked in the door. Clint sat in his easy chair, a magazine open on his lap. He glanced up with a slow, easy smile of welcome. She’d never seen anyone look so good in her life. She had the craziest feeling of homecoming, which made no sense. Or maybe it made incredible sense.

  She closed the door and turned the lock. “Hey, you.”

  “HI.” He felt a rush of tenderness. She looked so damned good coming in the door of his house as if she owned the place. She was quickly taking possession of his heart, too, and he didn’t know what to do about that, but he couldn’t seem to stop the process.

  She walked toward him. “Did Jamie get his ticket?”

  “No. He decided not to go.”

  “Not to go?” She eased down to the sofa across from him. “Why not?”

  Clint closed the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table. “After he had some coffee and thought it through, he realized that might not be the best answer to the problem.”

  Relief made her smile. She hadn’t looked forward to engineering a substitution. “Your coffee would give anybody a come-to-Jesus moment.”

  “I’ll have you know he had a second cup.”

  “So where is he now? Running laps around the corral?”

  “Down at the bunkhouse editing. He asked me to give you the message that he’d changed his mind.”

  She gazed at him. “Why do I have the feeling that you influenced that decision?”

  “I don’t know that I did.”

  “I do.” She stood. “And thank you.” She held out both hands to him. “Is there some way I can show my appreciation?”

  He drank in the sight of her standing there offering herself. She might never cross his path again, but for tonight, she wanted him, wanted to be with him until the morning tore them apart. He got up and took her hands in his. “Yes, ma’am, there certainly is.”

  13

  BACK IN HIS BEDROOM, Clint took his time undressing Meg. Each time before, she’d started the festivities naked, but not tonight. And that seemed to fit, because he was a heck of a lot more coordinated about the process now. Twenty-four hours ago he’d been too intimidated and eager. His undressing technique would have left much to be desired. Tonight he was in control.

  She’d worn her fringed black jacket, which he took off first. Underneath, she’d exchanged the blue-knit top she’d worn in the morning for a white spangled cowgirl shirt with pearl buttons at the wrists and down the front. He unfastened the snaps at her wrists first and kissed each pulse point.

  “I like that,” she murmured. “I didn’t know I was sensitive there.”

  “Neither did I.” He drew back her sleeve and ran his tongue from her wrist to the inside of her elbow.

  “Mmm.”

  “Good feedback.” He repeated the caress on her other arm, moving slowly, enjoying the taste of her skin, the scent of soap and perfume.

  She began to tremble. “Maybe…maybe it’s the anticipation, but feeling your tongue there…I’m going a little crazy inside.”

  “Good.” He gently unfastened the first three snaps of her blouse as he gazed into her eyes. “I want you to imagine me licking you…everywhere.”

  She took a shaky breath. “What do you suppose I’ve been thinking about ever since our shower?”

  “This?” He left the rest of the snaps and unhooked the front catch of her bra. Then he slipped both hands inside to cradle her warm breasts. Her nipples tightened in response.

  “Yes.”

  In one motion he peeled her bra and her blouse from her shoulders. She lifted her arms free. In that moment she transformed herself into an image of sexual abandon, half her clothes hanging loose around her and her breasts uncovered.

  His groin grew hot and heavy as he gazed at her. He hadn’t thought she could look any sexier with clothes than without, but this partial nudity made him want her in a fierce and untamed way.

  “I love that wild look in your eyes.” She cradled her breasts. “As if you could eat me up.”

  His mouth went dry. By touching her breasts, she’d tapped into an unrecognized fantasy of his. He covered her hands with his and leaned down to run his tongue along the curve of her finger as it pressed against her silken skin.

  She brushed her thumb across her nipple, making it quiver. With a groan he took charge o
f that sweet nipple, rolling it against the roof of his mouth as tension pushed him closer to the breaking point.

  “I need you,” she murmured, her voice urgent. “Now. Right now.”

  He lifted his head, his body pulsing with the urge to be inside her. “I…meant to…go slow.”

  “Next time.”

  “Next time.” Snaps popped, zippers rasped, and he pushed her down crossways on the bed without taking off his boots, without taking off his jeans.

  Once his aching penis was free, he grabbed a condom and put it on. Then he lifted her hips and hooked her ankles over his shoulders. Knees braced against the mattress, he pushed deep and began thrusting.

  They both came instantly, as if they’d had hours of foreplay. He’d never known a drive this strong. It left his brain spinning and his body out of control.

  Gradually their breathing evened out, and the room came back into focus. Ending the magical connection, he gently lowered her back to the mattress. While he climbed out of the rest of his clothes, she slid under the covers. Finally he joined her there, gathering her close and kissing her with gratitude in his heart.

  “Has it only been one day that we’ve known each other?” he asked, awestruck by the powerful emotions between them.

  “One day, but two nights.” She rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him close. “Clint, we have to do something about this situation.”

  He pretended not to know what she meant, because he had no solutions. “What situation?”

  “You, me, fireworks.”

  “I only can think of one thing.”

  “What’s that?” She sounded hopeful.

  “You’ll have to take some ugly pills. And maybe if you smelled a little more like a garbage dump and less like a field of flowers, and wore baggy clown outfits and a rubber nose, that would help, too.”

  She laughed. “Look, it’s not all up to me. You’re the one who put on those sexy boots. And the fit of those jeans should be illegal. We won’t even mention what a hottie you become when you wear your hat. So don’t think I’m taking all the blame for this fiasco.”

  “Hey, I tried to avoid the cowboy thing. I didn’t wear any of that stuff when you first got here.”

  She sighed. “True. And I still craved your body.”

  “And I’ve craved yours from the beginning. It’s a problem.” He kept his tone light, but the subject was anything but. And no answer in sight.

  “Clint, there is a solution.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He tweaked her nose. “Even if you begged me, I can’t see you wearing a chastity belt. That’s a definite no.”

  “I mean a real solution. Take part in the contest.”

  “Huh?” He readjusted their position so her head was on the pillow. Then he propped himself on his elbow because he needed to look into her eyes and try to figure out what craziness was going through her mind. “Too much sex must be frying my brain, because I don’t get how that ties in with anything. For one thing, the Arizona contest is over.”

  “Yes, and there wasn’t time to get you into the regular competition, so I called the studio this afternoon. I have permission to add a wild-card contestant at any time. He’ll be called Meg’s Pick, and the slot would go to you.”

  “Hey, hey, wait a minute. I don’t want to be—”

  “Let me finish. I wouldn’t have to announce it right away. In fact, I should probably wait until all the state contests are finished. We’re talking about another thirteen days.”

  “I thought you knew how I felt about this contest.” The longer she talked, the less he felt listened to. She was ignoring everything he’d told her about himself and that didn’t feel good.

  “I know it wouldn’t be easy for you, but think of the end result. You would have a reason to be in New York.” She paused. “I’ll be in New York.”

  He knew that. It was part of the problem. “And the contest stuff would last how long—a few days? I don’t think buying us a few days is worth what you’re asking.”

  “I’d say more than a few days. Once you’re on TV, all sorts of opportunities would come your way, even if you didn’t win. Endorsements, guest appearances—you’d be in demand for months. Some of the work might be in L.A., but a good part of it would be in New York.”

  He couldn’t think of anything he’d hate more. “Meg, that’s not my thing. I’ve tried to tell you that.” His disappointment grew. She didn’t know him at all.

  “But think of what this would mean! You could earn all kinds of money, maybe even enough to buy back the Circle W!”

  “You’re asking me to prostitute myself so I can maybe buy this place? Sorry, the price is too high.”

  Her expression became stormy. “Come on, now, Clint. It wouldn’t be that bad.”

  “Easy for you to say. It’s your world. You feel comfortable there. I would feel like a trained bear in a circus.”

  “I don’t believe that. And you don’t really know, because you’ve never tried it. And…and yes, it’s my world. I…thought I could share a part of it with you.”

  “Then I guess you just don’t get me.” He’d felt so warm a moment ago, and now cold was creeping relentlessly through him, chilling his soul. “If you could imagine I’d want to do something like that, you don’t have the first idea of who I am.”

  She clenched her jaw. “Just like that, you’d give up a chance to earn a pile of money and be with me at the same time?”

  “Like I said, the price is too high.”

  “I must have misunderstood.” She cleared the huskiness from her throat. “I thought the ranch meant a lot to you.”

  “It does.”

  “Then how are you ever going to buy it back? Winning the lottery isn’t a plan, Clint!”

  “I know that. So I’m racing a quarterhorse next season. Gabriel’s got talent, and once he starts winning, the money will be there. It might take a couple of years, but—”

  “And me? How do I fit into all that? I thought…I meant something to you.”

  “You do.”

  “But not enough.” Her lower lip quivered.

  “Not enough to compromise who I am.”

  “I don’t see it that way.” She blinked away tears.

  “Meg, I’m sorry. It wouldn’t work. I appreciate the thought, but—”

  “No, you don’t.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “You don’t appreciate it, you hate it. You’re insulted that I would ask it of you.”

  He sat up, too. “Okay, I do think it shows that you don’t understand me, and that’s disappointing.”

  “I understand that you’re so set in your ways that you won’t compromise, not even to get what you say you want.” She walked around to the other side of the bed and gathered up her clothes.

  “Meg, I don’t want us to end like this.”

  She held the bundle of clothes against her like a shield. “I didn’t want us to end at all. I wanted to find a way that we could keep seeing each other. To know that you’re ready to give up—well, that hurts.” She turned and walked out of the room.

  “Wait! You don’t have an alarm clock!”

  Her voice floated back to him. “Don’t worry. I won’t need one.”

  With a groan, he flopped back onto the mattress and stared up at the beamed ceiling. Dammit, why couldn’t she understand? Why did she have to imply that if he really cared about her, he’d parade around in front of a TV camera?

  If she really cared about him, she’d never ask. It seemed as if she was trying to turn him into a different kind of guy. He could keep the cowboy outfit, but underneath that she wanted a more sophisticated man, one who moved in the same circles she did. She didn’t really want him the way he was.

  Endorsements and public appearances. The concept gave him hives. Even if he wanted to do it for her sake, he didn’t think he could. He wasn’t cut out to be in the limelight.

  But she was. She’d found her calling, and he’d found his. And the two were totally in
compatible. As perfectly as their bodies meshed, their lives were exact opposites and always would be that way.

  He should probably consider himself lucky for what they’d shared. He should, but he didn’t. After the kind of loving he’d had with Meg, anything else would be a joke. He’d always expected to marry some day, but Meg might have spoiled him for another woman. And, God help him for being such a selfish bastard, but he hoped he’d spoiled her for another man.

  MEG TOOK cat naps throughout the night. She was too exhausted to stay awake and too upset to stay asleep. When she’d conceived her plan, she hadn’t considered that Clint might say no.

  Between his love of the Circle W and his obvious attraction to her, he had two strong reasons to agree. She hadn’t expected him to be crazy about the idea, but she had expected him to be willing to give it a shot. After all, she’d eliminated any need for him to compete here on his home turf.

  All he’d have to do was appear on TV. Surely even the most private guy in the world could do that if it meant getting everything he wanted as a result. Maybe he didn’t care enough about her—and that stung—but the ranch had been in his family for generations. He could reclaim it now, instead of waiting around to see if his precious horse Gabriel won enough races.

  The more she thought about his stubborn refusal to try, the angrier she became. Well, if he wanted to be a martyr, then let him. She was sorry that she’d ever become involved.

  She was especially sorry because, stubborn and proud though he was, he’d given her the best climaxes of her life. Although she didn’t have a huge basis of comparison, she had a hunch that sex like that didn’t come along very often. She had enough problems in the dating arena already, without having Mr. Yummy Cowboy raise the bar to impossible heights.

  Every time she woke up and remembered where she was, and who was right down the hall, she had to control the urge to make that trip. He would take her back into his bed, no question. She was the one who had called a halt.

  But she’d had to do that once she’d known for sure he wouldn’t make any effort to keep the relationship going when she so plainly wanted to. A girl had to preserve a little of her pride after being so resoundingly rejected. So she stayed in her room and checked her watch every time she opened her eyes.

 

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