MONTANA HOMECOMING (Montana Book 2)

by Lane, Soraya

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Ha ha, very funny."

  "I'm serious!" Maddison leaned over and grabbed an olive, popping it into her mouth. "You had a huge crush on him when you were a kid, remember?"

  How could she forget? She was just lucky that her sisters didn't know about the kiss…

  "A crush as a fifteen year old doesn't automatically translate into attraction as an adult." She scoffed, shaking her head like she was trying to convince herself as much as Maddie. "He's like the quintessential bad boy, and the kind of man I want is responsible, kind, strong…"

  "He's kind and strong," Maddison interrupted.

  "He drives a deathtrap! Did I mention responsible was at the top of my list?"

  Maddison reached for another olive and Amanda slapped her hand.

  "For someone who doesn't have a crush any longer, you sure don't like being teased about him."

  Her sister had a point. "So what time are the boys joining us?" she asked, changing the subject.

  "They're moving cattle, then they're going to head to the airport to collect Blake and your luggage and come straight here."

  "I can't believe I'm going to have all of you home, under the one roof."

  Amanda stopped what she was doing and looked at her mom when she spoke, knowing Maddison was probably having the same pangs of regret that she was.

  Why had it taken a funeral to finally bring them all back to Settler's Hill together?

  Scott stretched back in the passenger seat, listening to his brother and Blake talk ranching. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in what they were saying, he was, but he wasn't exactly as passionate about raising beef cattle as they were. He loved the land, he just had other ideas for how to make it profitable. And it wasn't helping that he was thinking about how insanely hot Amanda had looked today. Because if her brother could read his mind right now? He'd be knocked out cold and tossed out of the moving vehicle. Of that he had no doubt.

  Maybe he'd been deprived of female company too long. Maybe he needed to get off the ranch and go live it up in town for a few days. Or maybe he needed to convince Amanda to…

  No. The one woman in the entire world that he wasn't allowed to touch was Amanda Jones. No touching her, no flirting with her, and no trying to get her into his bed. Blake had warned him off once, and for the first time in his life he hadn't tried to push the boundaries. He was guessing those rules hadn’t changed, or if they had he sure as hell was going to keep his thoughts to himself anyway, which meant that he needed to forget all about how gorgeous and sexy little Mandy looked all grown up.

  He groaned without meaning to.

  "What's up?"

  Scott looked at his brother and laughed. "Nothing. Just thinking about how different it is here than in Australia."

  Now it was Blake chuckling in the back. "Don't tell me that you didn't bring a little bit of Australia back with you? I was expecting a gorgeous blonde."

  "There were plenty of gorgeous blondes, but none I could convince to follow me home," he said dryly.

  It was true, there had been plenty of women in Australia, but he'd be lying if he said there was anyone special that had made him want to settle down.

  "I thought you told me it was just guys where you were hidden away in the mines?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked over at him. "What happened to poor little brother, stuck working with not a woman in sight?"

  "Well I wasn't working all the time. We used to fly out to Perth once a month, and it wasn't all work and no play."

  "All I can say is thank god it was Jack who took a liking to one of my sisters. If it had been you?" Blake laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "I don't even want to think about it."

  Scott laughed his comment off, trying even harder to forget about the beautiful woman in his head. "You two are just jealous."

  The truck went quiet, before the other two guys burst out laughing.

  "Damn right I'm jealous," Blake said, leaning forward between the two front seats. "Do you have any idea how boring it is stuck out on a ranch on my own? I don’t get into town anywhere near enough for my liking.”

  Scott chuckled. Maybe he was being stupid even thinking that Scott would really give a damn if he went after Amanda.

  "Home sweet home."

  Scott looked up when Blake spoke, admiring the immaculate drive in to the Jones' ranch. He hadn't entered Settler's Hill from the front like this since he was a teenager, before he'd left home as a kid to find his own way in the world, because they'd always gone between the two properties over a fence or gate. Usually on horseback, sometimes on foot.

  "Your old man kept this place looking good, Blake. We're all gonna miss him, you know that, right?"

  He listened as Blake cleared his throat. "Yeah, he was the best. I'm just lucky that I had him at all, you know?"

  Scott leaned back in his seat, wondering what it would have been like if he'd had Jones for a dad. His life sure would have turned out differently, given what a bastard his old man had been.

  "I think we need to drink to that," Scott said.

  "Damn straight," Blake muttered as Jack pulled up beside the big old house.

  He could go for a bourbon, straight from the bottle or poured over a handful of ice, but he doubted anyone else was thinking of anything quite so strong. A beer would have to do.

  Amanda had butterflies in her stomach. She knew why - the car full of boys had just pulled up outside, and instead of sitting with her sisters in the living room she was back in the kitchen trying to keep her mind off Scott and make herself useful.

  The lamb was still cooking, and the smell of the tomatoes and garlic was infusing the entire house with its deliciousness, which meant there was nothing for Amanda to do now other than set the table.

  She could always go out and greet her brother, be part of the gathering, but she didn't want to. Instead she poured herself a large glass of red wine and sat down at the counter, needing a minute on her own just to think. Amanda tilted her glass in a silent salute to her dad, then took a long, slow sip. Her dad had been right – the wine was incredible.

  "Care for some company?"

  The butterflies started again. She took a deep breath and slowly turned, knowing that there was only one man she knew who had such a deep drawl. Scott was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, propped by his elbow in the doorjamb as he watched her. His eyes were dark, gaze warm as he stared at her.

  Amanda smiled, eyes locked on his. "Of course."

  He still didn't move. "Because I'm happy to walk straight back out there and leave you alone, if you'd prefer."

  Maybe he wasn't quite the pain in the ass he'd once been.

  "I've never been one for drinking alone," she confessed, holding up the bottle. "Wine?"

  Scott made a face, but he also managed to flash her a dimple at the same time. He was insanely good looking - a fact her fifteen year old self had been only too aware of - and those dimples didn't help the matter.

  "I was hoping for something stronger, but yeah, wine will do."

  Amanda stood and fetched him a glass from the cupboard. Scott was sitting on the chair beside where she'd been perched, holding the bottle and reading the label.

  "This was one of your dad's?"

  "I found a whole box of them in his cellar, so I figured he was probably saving them for an occasion."

  Scott laughed. "For his next daughter's wedding?"

  She poured his glass and passed it to him.

  "Well he would have been waiting a long time for me to marry anyone, and I doubt Charlotte will be heading to the altar any faster than me."

  "You weren't tempted by Maddison's wedding?"

  "About as much as you were tempted to attend."

  He put his wine glass down and held up his hands, like he was surrendering. "Hey, it was kind of a shot gun wedding and I couldn't drop everything and fly back for it. But I'm here now," he winked, grinning, "and I intend on being the favorite uncle."

  "So tell me all about where you'v
e been for the past ten years," she asked, leaning back in her chair to put a little distance between them.

  Chatting with Scott was nice, but in the way that patting a large animal at a zoo could be nice - knowing they were dangerous but liking it anyway. She wasn't used to men so… she didn't know what. But Scott had an attitude that told her he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him, because he was way too happy in his own skin.

  "How about you tell me why you're not planning on being a bride?"

  Amanda laughed and took another sip of wine, watching as Scott did the same, only he didn't seem to be enjoying the taste quite as much as she was from the look on his face.

  "There's that small issue of not having a man," she admitted, not shying away from his gaze as it fixed on her. "I don't have any intention of becoming a bitter old spinster though, so don't feel too sorry for me."

  He didn't say anything, but she knew he was thinking something, that he was probably trying to come up with something that didn't offend her.

  "So back to you again," she said, as desperate to know where he'd been and what he'd been doing as she was to change the subject. "Tell me about Australia."

  Scott was still staring at her, his expression thoughtful, but he snapped out of it when she mentioned Australia. He sat back and twirled the stem of his wineglass in both hands.

  "I spent a couple of years floating around when I left home, and then I moved to Australia on a temporary work visa," he said, taking another sip. "I managed to stay permanently after I trained in the mines there, and ended up owning two drilling rigs."

  She had no idea what type of work he was talking about, hadn’t ever paid much attention to exactly what Scott had been doing in Australia, other than knowing he owned his own business. "You mean like coal mining?" Amanda asked.

  He shook his head. "Kind of like the equivalent to oil drilling here, I guess. They have amazing natural resources over there, in Western Australia, and I specialized in iron ore. My rigs worked non-stop around the clock, twenty-four hours a day in the mines."

  So the black sheep of the Gregory family had done okay for himself. Not that she'd expected any less, but still, it was impressive.

  "But you're back here for good now?"

  He grinned. "As soon as my old man died, and Jack gifted me half of the ranch, I cashed in my business and came back." Scott looked thoughtful as he nodded and looked into his dark red glass of wine. "I've always known where I belonged, my trouble was who I belonged with."

  Amanda swallowed, hard, fighting back tears. "Isn’t it ironic that you and Jack probably celebrated when your father died, and here I am feeling like my world is over?” Scott’s dad had been a tyrant, an absolute bastard in anyone’s eyes, and it wasn’t like the community had mourned him when he died, not after the way he’d treated his boys.

  She tried to stop her hands from shaking as she lifted her wine glass to take a sip. Scott rose beside her, took the glass from her and set it down. He took her face into his hands, palms warm against her cheeks.

  "Your dad was one of the best men I've ever known, Mandy. I'm not going to lie and tell you it'll get easier any time soon, because when I lost my mom? Hell, I don't even know if I've gotten over her yet. But you do learn to live with it."

  She stared into his eyes, trapped in the web of his gaze, still fighting the tears that were blurring her vision until she could hardly see him.

  "Come here," his voice was rough.

  Scott shuffled closer and put his arms around her, drawing her head to his chest and holding her tight as she sat on the stool. And then the tears really started - falling from her eyes like rain in a storm. Sobs wracked her body, and she held on to Scott so tight, wrapped her arms around him like she was never, ever going to let him go.

  Scott dropped his chin to the top of Amanda's head and stood still, arms firm around her. He knew what she was going through - hell, he knew what it was like to lose someone you loved more than anyone else in the world. He'd pushed his feelings back for years, had refused to let his father dictate to him, to let him put blame on to him or Jack when their mom's death had been nothing more than a god-damn accident, but it didn't mean that he still didn't hurt. That he still didn't wish like hell that he'd walk through the front door of his childhood home and see his mom standing in the kitchen baking, or riding out on her horse - the horse his dad had sold to try to remove all reminders of his mom.

  Scott stood strong, kept his shoulders squared, refusing to go back in time.

  "I'm sorry," Amanda mumbled, cheek still pressed to his chest.

  He gave her a squeeze and dropped a kiss into her hair. "You cry all you like, sweetheart."

  Amanda stayed there, didn't move, until someone cleared their throat and she jumped back like she'd been electrocuted.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt."

  Scott smiled at Amanda's mom. She was standing a few feet in from the door.

  "It's fine, mom, I was just…" Amanda's voice trailed off as she wiped at her tear -stained cheeks.

  "We were just talking about Gus," Scott said, not knowing why he felt compelled to explain. "I think you all know how much he meant to me and Jack."

  Amanda was still sitting, frozen, trying to compose herself, and her mom was nodding and checking on dinner, like she needed to keep herself busy to avoid dealing with what was happening, with what had happened.

  "We're just all pleased you're back, Scott. Isn't that right, Amanda?"

  Scott turned back to Amanda. She should have seemed like a stranger, this woman he hadn't seen since they were both teenagers, but it was like… like he was supposed to be looking out for her. Having her in his arms before, it had seemed right.

  "I didn't mean to get your shirt wet," she said, taking a step closer and touching the front of his tear stained tee.

  He took her hand, squeezed it and held on for a second longer than he needed to. "You're going to get through this, Mandy. I promise," he told her, voice low.

  "I know." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I just don't know how right now."

  He nodded, aware that her mom was only a few feet away on the other side of the counter. Scott could have so easily pulled her in, held her again. Maybe if they'd been alone he'd have been able to kiss her, could have tried to help her forget, for a few minutes at least.

  Instead, he held up her hand and pressed his lips to it, eyes never leaving hers. He might have been a shit to her when they'd been kids, but right now? Right now he was prepared to do anything to make her understand that he wasn't that kid anymore. He was a man and she was a woman, and he was more than god damn aware of that fact that he'd ever been.

  Forbidden or not, Scott wanted one thing right now, and she was standing in front of him. Amanda was broken, at least temporarily, and he wanted to put each piece of her back together. Piece by beautiful piece.

  "I'm going to head upstairs for a moment, tidy myself up," she said, a slow smile crossing her lips as she withdrew her hand from his. "Mom, will you be okay for a sec?"

  He watched as she walked away, wondering how the hell he'd managed to come home after so long away and still come back to wanting the same girl.

  "Anything I can do to help?" he asked her mom.

  Amanda took a deep breath as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had no idea what had just happened downstairs, but she felt better for it. Confused over the way she'd let Scott hold her, the way she'd reacted to his touch, but better for finally letting herself have a good old cry.

  She finished dabbing concealer beneath her eyes and touched up her lip gloss, before going back downstairs. She hadn't even seen her brother yet, so there was no chance she could hide up here all night even if she wanted to.

  "Amanda?"

  Amanda stopped on the bottom step and saw her brother waiting for her, standing in the hall.

  "Hey Blake."

  He put down his drink on the hall table and reached for her, enveloping her in a big hug.
/>   "You have no idea how good it is to see you," she told him, holding on tight.

  "You feeling like crap for not coming home earlier?" he asked.

  "Yep. You?"

  He stepped back and ran a hand down her hair, before letting go of her and collecting his drink. "Like you wouldn't believe."

  Amanda linked her arm through her brother's as they walked back to the kitchen. It was so nice being back with her family, hanging out with her siblings after they'd all taken such different directions for so long. Just because she didn't like the physical side of ranching didn't mean she didn't love her family home, because she did.

  And if she still had creative block by next week, maybe she'd need to move back here for awhile to try to get her groove back. She wasn’t much of an artist if she couldn’t manage to finish even one painting in her collection.

  "Don't you think it's crazy having all of us here again, with Jack and Scott, too?"

  Blake laughed. "Yeah, just like old times."

  "Now that we're all here it seems like no time has passed at all."

  When they entered the kitchen everyone was gathered around, which meant they all heard what Blake had said to her, but her brother's gaze was firmly focused across the room.

  "Yeah, so long as I can keep Scott's hands off you still, everything will be just like it used to be."

  Amanda fought the blush she could feel trying to creep across her face, burning her skin. Scott keeping his hands off her was exactly the opposite of what she wanted. She glanced over at Scott, who was suddenly chugging his drink and clearly avoiding looking at her brother.

  Caution told her that even flirting with Scott was dangerous, but then again, he'd been right about how liberating his motorcycle would be for her. So maybe she needed to stop avoiding danger and just live a little. For once.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SCOTT watched as Amanda rose from the table. She started to clear dinner plates, and he jumped up to help her. The others were all talking, reminiscing mostly, and he was guessing she was finding it either too hard or too painful to listen, maybe both.

  "You don't have to help me," she said, carrying a stack of plates and cutlery into the kitchen.