She was concentrating on that, too.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ON A SCALE of one to ten, the evening had been about a seven, considering that his father was involved. Between hotel schemes and ketchup spills, there’d been a few glitches, but Tate could wash the shirt and say no to the hotel idea, so all in all, it was a success.
His father liked Bex.
That was good, anyway.
There was no middle ground with him. He liked you or he didn’t, and usually it was obvious either way. Bex was beautiful and successful, so her popularity with his critical parent was no surprise.
Tate was drawn to her for entirely different reasons. Well, maybe not entirely. But aside from the undeniable attraction he felt for her was something deeper.
She had an undefinable quality he wouldn’t even try to analyze, at least not tonight.
Tonight he was focused on one thing. The fact that she was sexy as hell.
Definite thumbs-up there. The boys were all worn out from the long day, so getting teeth brushed and pajamas on wasn’t met with the usual resistance. Adam was asleep before he’d left the bedroom, and Josh looked zoned out, too, lying on the blow-up mattress on the floor. Ben managed to say good-night, but it was sleepy and halfhearted.
Bex was lounging on the couch, shoes off, ankles crossed, relaxed. “You did that so well, getting those kids to bed. How about a lesson?”
There was no way he could resist going over and scooping her into his arms. “I have an ulterior motive tonight, so I pulled out all the stops. Now can I put you to bed? I’m hoping that’s an offer you can’t refuse.”
“I’m about to nod off.” She gave a fake yawn.
“Well, let’s see if I can keep you awake for a little while, anyway.” He carried her down the hall to his room in what he had to admit was a theatrical gesture, but Bex was laughing, and he grinned back when he deposited her on the bed.
The first thing he did was shut the door. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on a chair. “Can I tell you how much I’m looking forward to sleeping with you again?”
“I thought that bunk was fairly comfortable,” she lied.
“Maybe if you aren’t over six feet tall.” He sat down and yanked off his boots. “But I have to say there were some perks, namely you. I’ve mentioned that I have a serious crush on you, right?” It was more than that, of course…
She shimmied out of her dress by lifting the skirt and pulling it off over her head. Beneath she wore a scanty black bra and even scantier panties.
He could no longer swallow, his mouth went so dry.
“I was hoping to see that expression on your face,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t normally dress like this. Remember my plaid flannel pj’s?”
“You looked hot in those, too,” he told her, and that was the truth. Still, she looked even sexier with her loose shimmering hair and all that bare skin. “But this is a little better. Take it all off?”
“Same goes for you, cowboy. All or nothing.”
He’d never shucked off his pants so quickly. If someone had been timing him, he would’ve set the world record.
Bex unfastened her bra and slid the panties down her long legs. He figured it was a good sign that he didn’t expire on the spot—it meant he had a healthy heart. He’d stopped at the local drugstore earlier and bought a box of condoms, although it had been quite a while. He wasn’t celibate by any means, but fleeting encounters only satisfied one urge and left him feeling cheated, and he really wanted this.
Wanted her.
“You want this, too, right?” He settled next to her, and touched her nipple. “I won’t pressure you.”
In answer she rolled on top of him. Bare breasts to bare chest, and her smile could have tipped the earth onto a different axis. “I want this.”
“I’m just—”
“Overthinking it.” She kissed him, her lips lingering softly on his. “Just make love to me.”
He had to ask. Thanks to Tripp, he knew about Will, and he had some sense of what had happened in her past, but he doubted even Melody and Hadleigh knew every detail. He touched her cheek, “I feel stupid asking this, but you aren’t a virgin, are you?”
“I’m almost thirty.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Typical Bex, she came right back at him. “Would it make a difference?”
“It might slow the pace.”
She shook her head then, her eyes luminous. “No. Will and I had a week before he shipped out again. He wouldn’t touch me until I was eighteen, and I understood that since he was older, and…and he was a man of honor. We waited, but that was a memorable week. He didn’t come home again.”
“No one else?”
“Nope. I’ve dated, of course, but wasn’t ever interested enough for this.” She touched him and he groaned.
Pretty damn close to a virgin. Tate rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry you lost him but I’m glad I found you.”
“We’re in complete agreement, then.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, the silky feel of it familiar after those two long nights sharing that bunk. He kissed her and she kissed him back with fervor, and then he reversed their positions, rolling over as he began to explore her body, listening to the cadence of her breathing as it changed with each caress, every touch of his mouth and hands. Her spine arched as he kissed his way down her rib cage and stomach, and when he kissed her intimately her response was intense.
He rolled on the condom with hands that weren’t steady, and the press of her hands told him she did want this as much as he did. He entered her and began to move, her hips lifting naturally to the rhythm.
She surrendered first, and the tightening of her inner muscles brought his release. The pleasure was overwhelming.
“Hmm.” Bex stroked the base of his spine. “I think I might want to do that again sometime.”
He laughed, the sound a bit strangled. “I just hope I start to breathe again sometime. Maybe next year.”
Her grin was pure Bex, saucy and teasing. “I hope it doesn’t take you that long to recover, cowboy.”
*
HER GRANDMOTHER USED to have an old expression she was fond of trotting out. It went, “If you cross a flooding river while it’s still raining, you’re going to have a hard time crossing back.”
Bex had already come to the conclusion that sleeping with Tate was plunging into that current.
He was a considerate lover, no question. Her pleasure before his, but he wasn’t going to slight himself, either, and in the floating aftermath of the third time, she decided that if it was a mistake, at least it was an enjoyable one.
However, outside the bedroom, they had some problems that weren’t going away. She had Tara’s mess to deal with, and her business, which took up a great deal of her time. He wasn’t even currently employed on an official basis, but about to embark on a brand-new venture. Add the well-being of three children, and it was just plain complicated.
Still cradled by his left arm, Bex slid her hand over his bare chest. “So tell me how you’re going to handle tomorrow’s visitors.”
“Jeez, you know how to ruin the mood.” His dark eyes held wry amusement as he turned his head to look at her. “The question involves hotels and horses and two possible investors who don’t like each other.”
“That certainly sums it up.”
“This answer will impress you. I have no idea.”
“Want some thoughts?”
“Only if you don’t tell me I should consider the devil I know or the devil I don’t.”
That was true enough. Bex frowned. “I stand by my earlier suggestion that if your father decides a hotel is a sound business decision, let him buy the land and lease the horses from you. That seems logical to me. Pitch it to Mrs. A., as well.” She added, “Mrs. A. has been willing to trust me with her investment. No meddling at all. That’s been my experience, anyway.”
He nodded.
>
“You could see which one would be willing to fund the bigger stable.”
“Or I could build a smaller one I can afford myself, and keep them both out of my hair.”
He had a point, but…
“Then you’d have to build another stable in the near future,” she said. “God willing and the creek don’t rise.”
Her grandmother’s sayings must really be on her mind.
He was quiet except for a long sigh. “I know,” he said finally. “That’s both a plus and a minus. If the business goes well, it’s exactly what I’d have to do, and that’s another outlay of cash. I’ve been arguing with myself. I’ve talked to Tripp. I’ve asked Doc Cameron, and everyone thinks a bigger stable is the way to go—they say not to wait—but I like to do things on my own.”
“I’ve gathered that.” It wasn’t as if she didn’t understand. That was her, too. She made her own way, but she also relied on Hadleigh and Mel—all three of them relied on each other. For that matter, Tripp and Spence would be there for her in a heartbeat. And there was also the matter of Mrs. A’s very generous investment. While complete independence was appealing in theory, the reality was a little different.
It was nice to have some backup.
“Let’s just see how it goes.” He kissed her temple, his body beginning to relax in a way she knew signaled sleep. “I’m too tired to worry about it right now.”
She wished sleep would come as easily to her.
It didn’t.
So she eased out of his embrace, got up and slipped on her T-shirt and shorts. Then she went into the living room with her phone, taking a quick peek through the boys’ door. All three were sleeping peacefully. Her throat tightened as she looked at Josh, with one fist curled under his little chin, his pajamas patterned with dinosaurs.
She hoped Tara knew Greg as well as she claimed, and there wasn’t a looming battle she couldn’t win.
Tate had what could be the largest couch ever made. She propped up a pillow and when she’d accessed her email, she sent both Hadleigh and Melody a message.
Kind of a significant evening in Bex-land. I could use some girl time soon. Shopping? Lunch?
Mel was obviously awake, because she answered immediately.
I have the worst heartburn and I believe the baby is deliberately sitting on my bladder. What’s up?
Tate.
Oh, is that a double entendre?
Mel!
I was joking.
Talk soon?
Date.
It wasn’t as though she’d give details. But there’d been an ongoing conversation among the three of them about the fact that she had no social life or romantic involvement. Her friends knew she’d loved Will, but both of them encouraged an interest in Tate.
They would both be so happy for her. Over the moon.
She hit Send, smiling.
Tate was a light sleeper, probably due to being a single father, because when she went back to bed, he woke instantly, pulling her close. “Everything okay?” he murmured.
“Better than.”
“That’s the answer I wanted.” His eyes drifted closed again.
“I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” she whispered into the dark. Not that she didn’t want one. She did—with him. But her remark was an attempt to persuade herself, on both a practical and an emotional level, that this was too fast, too soon.
“You got that straight.”
Damn, he wasn’t asleep, after all.
Bex jabbed him in the chest. “What does that mean?”
He rubbed the spot. “Hey, I was trying to be agreeable.”
She nestled against his shoulder. “This is a terrible time for us to get involved. Neither of us has the actual time.”
“Yep.”
“Maybe we could just sleep together now and then.” His chest was solid and warm.
“Now and then? I’d go for more often than that. If tonight didn’t do it, maybe I need to read up on it so I can try again.”
“You could teach classes,” Bex said sarcastically, “so stop with the false modesty.”
Finally, she was the one getting sleepy. She yawned.
“Bex, things will work themselves out.”
She put her arm around his waist and settled in. “Funny, that’s what I was going to tell you about tomorrow.”
His face was shadowed. “Oh, yeah. Mrs. A., as you call her, and my father? I’d rather be a professional fish-from-the-hook remover.”
“That reminds me. We should take the boys fishing again. Could we choose one of those fly-in places that fix all the food and have real bathrooms?”
“Aren’t you the princess? Hey, except for the outhouse, that one wasn’t bad.”
“I tend to avoid them, so I’ve got a very short list for comparison.”
Still, she’d go there again, outhouse or not. The boys had loved the place.
And there was no way she’d ever forget that it was where Tate had told her he loved her.
*
THE NEXT MORNING, school preparation was the usual chaos. Tate told Ben that he was in charge of getting everyone there, but then changed his mind and drove them all. He sat in his truck, watching them walk through the front door of the building.
Sandra had always said he was overprotective, and it might be true…
He wanted them to be independent, but he also wanted them to be safe. Josh was part of the equation now, and against his better judgment, he was becoming attached. Even if Greg didn’t step in, once Tara was settled in Denver, she’d want her son back.
Bex had gone off to the fitness center and he needed to be at the ranch, so after he saw the boys inside the school, he headed over to the property.
Everything was routine, with trucks all over the place. The driveway would need to be graded when the construction was finished, he noted to himself, because of the ruts.
Unfortunately, before he’d even parked, he saw that not only was his father there, but a very expensive car he didn’t recognize was, too.
He checked his watch. Barely nine in the morning.
If it wasn’t for the reflected glow of last night, he’d be even more on edge. Tate got out, slamming the door, prepared to be cordial. He did whip out his phone and quickly called Cameron. “Operation Stable is about to begin. How many stalls do you think we need again? I have the potential investors and contractor right here.”
“Twice as many as we originally planned if you can pull it off. Aside from my regular practice, I can take care of that many horses—with some help. And I have a friend who’s moving here from Idaho. He’s also a vet, Jaxon Locke, and he’s good. Hell or high water, he’s coming to Mustang Creek. So we’re covered. He’d be willing to step in on a day-to-day basis until he gets settled. After that, we’ll need to hire some hands.”
Twice as big?
That was ambitious. No, Tate couldn’t do that on his own.
Where were Mrs. Arbuckle and his father? Probably killing each other somewhere. He should get going. “I’ll let you know how this turns out,” he said tersely.
“Good luck.”
His contractor stopped him in the driveway. “Sorry, but they just went on in. When I tried to talk to them, they ignored me and just walked through the door.”
“That’s not surprising,” Tate responded. Then he raked his fingers through his hair. “If we did a stable twice the size, what’s the timeline?”
Bill brightened. “Seriously?”
“Think about a bid.”
“Numbers are already running through my mind.”
Tate found his father and Mrs. A. in his kitchen, arguing.
Over what, he wasn’t sure.
The kitchen looked damned good. The counter Bex had picked out was perfect, and the contrast to the floor and the cabinets really set it off.
He and Ben and Adam should be able to move in by mid-October. For the first time since he’d taken on this project, he inhaled an easy breath. They could’
ve stayed in Kirkland and done just fine, lived comfortably in the house he owned there, but he wanted a different life. This was it.
He expected his new life to be an improvement over the old one.
Especially if Becca Stuart was going to be part of it.
“Hello.” He leaned against the cabinets and tried to intervene. “Sorry I’m late to the party but the boys needed to be dropped off at school. So, good morning. What do you think of the house?”
“How many bedrooms?” his father asked abruptly. This morning he wore an expensive sweater and tailor-made slacks, his hair was, as always, immaculately groomed.
Mrs. Arbuckle hardly came up to his shoulder, but she exuded the same powerful aura and she, too, was overdressed in her designer suit and silk scarf, carrying a leather handbag with an impressive logo even Tate recognized.
He felt a little grubby in his faded jeans and denim shirt, although both were clean, and he’d actually polished his boots a few days ago. “Four bedrooms,” he said in response to the question. “Three bathrooms. Right now the living room looks like you could land a plane in it, but there’s going to be an office at one end with a view of the paddocks and pasture. They haven’t framed it in yet.”
“Ha, I guess that means I was correct when I informed you that my son would have his office in the house.” His father’s smile was meant to irritate.
It worked, judging by Mrs. A.’s scowl.
“Well,” Tate said in a mild tone, “we plan on there being one in the stables, as well, where we can keep the bloodstock books and other records, like veterinary notes.”
“So, you see, Randolph, you can wipe that superior smirk off your face.” Lettie Arbuckle sniffed elegantly. Tate had read that description in books and inwardly laughed, but he’d never seen it in person. “Bex told me he was a bright young man,” she went on, “so of course I assumed he’d put an office in the stables. He must take after his mother’s side of the family.”
That was what they were arguing over? This was going to be a comfortable morning. Tate needed to go and get the original plans out of his truck but he was afraid to leave them alone.
The Marriage Season Page 15