She dropped her head onto his shoulder, still amazed at the powerful muscles there, and sighed. “Sounds lovely.”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her over for a kiss.
“Breakfast at the beach?” he asked.
“Of course. Give me ten minutes.” She slipped from the bed and raced to the bathroom.
When she joined him on the terrace, he was staring out at the ocean. Wrapping her arms around him, she asked, “You okay?”
He pulled her arms tighter around him. “Yep. For a vacation I didn’t want, I’m not ready for it to be over.”
She pressed her cheek to his back. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
They stood there for a minute, both of them lost in their own memories of the last nine days. Finally, Brock blew out a long breath. “I see the waiter on the beach setting up our breakfast. Ready?”
“Starved.”
He laughed and pulled her around him until he could loop an arm over her shoulder. “We did burn up a few calories last night.”
“And the night before that and the night before that,” she said, as they started walking toward the beach.
Brock loved to surprise her with breakfast. She never knew what he’d ordered until the cover was removed but so far he’d hit a homerun every time. This morning was freshly–squeezed orange juice, more coffee (natch), Belgian waffles with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, and bacon. By the end of the meal, they’d decided to order a bowl of whipped cream with dinner, regardless of what dessert they ordered. In fact, Brock suggested only whipped cream for dessert and she’d laughed.
The ride around the island was bittersweet. Natalie took her camera and shot pictures of everything, including Brock scowling when she aimed the camera at him, which only made her snap more.
That evening, dinner arrived as the sun was setting. The deep blue of the sky blended into purple, then pink, then orange at the water’s edge.
“I wish I were a painter,” Natalie said with a sigh. “Even my camera can’t capture the beauty of the scene in front of me.”
“I know what you mean,” Brock said. “Beautiful.”
She looked over to say something more about the setting sun and found Brock staring at her. Heat flushed her neck and up to her cheeks.
“I meant the sunset,” she said.
“I didn’t,” he replied. “I meant you.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “This week has been the best of my life.”
He turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. “Mine too.”
Their final dinner together was a reprisal of their first…prime rib and key lime pie. The meat was tender and perfect but Natalie could barely swallow around the lump that’d formed in her throat.
After dinner, after the sun had totally deserted them and the moon played hide–and–seek with the clouds, Brock pulled her onto the cushioned recliner on the terrace. She sat between his thighs, her back and head resting on his marble–like chest. He propped his chin on the top of her head and they just sat there watching waves roll in.
Her mood was much like the waves…high one minute and crashing the next. Three or four times she searched her brain for the right words to say but she realized she didn’t know what she wanted to tell Brock.
Thank you. You rocked my world.
Yeah, that seemed a little desperate.
But not as desperate as, don’t leave me, and she’d had that thought too.
Brock sighed a few times but seemed content to sit and hold her.
For some reason, the sitting and holding felt more intimate right now than if they’d been having wild monkey sex. Not that wild monkey sex would have been bad. Hell, no. That’d been awesome too, but this quiet time felt right. It felt as though both of them were soaking up the scents and feel of the other. Making memories to last a lifetime.
At ten, Brock kissed her neck. “It’s getting late.”
She shrugged. “I’m packed and ready. It won’t take me long in the morning.”
“Not what I meant. What I should have said was that I want to spend our last hours together naked and in bed.”
A smile crawled on her mouth. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure I’m ready to talk about the strings that were attached to this morning’s coffee.”
She twisted until her legs swung off the chair and she was sitting sideways. She wrapped her hand around his neck and jerked him forward into a hot, deep, long kiss.
“Something like that?”
“I do love how you can read my mind.”
Brock was up long before the five a.m. alarm. He finished all his morning necessities before walking back into the bedroom to wake Natalie. For a few minutes, he just stood and watched her sleep. Her full lips puckered as she let out a little snore, which made him smile. If only she didn’t snore, she’d be perfect.
Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? She was perfect. Perfect for him.
Yes, he realized they’d only known each other for less than two weeks, but his mother had always told him that when it was right, he would know.
He knew.
What he didn’t know was exactly how Natalie felt about him. They hadn’t discussed feelings. He was anxious that she would feel pressured if he started blurting out professions of love.
Besides, wasn’t it the woman who was supposed to be the touchy–feely one? Shouldn’t she be all emotional about leaving him? If she was, she sure hid it well.
“Stop staring at me,” she growled and rolled over.
“And good morning to you too,” he said brightly.
“Bite me. Wake me when breakfast gets here. You wore me out last night.”
“No breakfast this morning, Natalie. Remember?”
Her movements stopped abruptly at his words. “Right. Going home today. What time is it?”
“Almost five. You’ve got about ninety minutes but we have to load our luggage, return the cars, check out and get to the airport by then. I’m done in the bathroom if you want it.”
She threw the covers back, the sight of her naked body sending him from semi–hard to painfully rigid in two breaths.
“Fine. Fine. I’m up,” she said.
When she stretched her arms over her head, he almost tackled her back on the mattress and screwed her silly. But then she stood and walked past him, giving him a slap on his ass on her way to the bathroom.
The time flew and, before he realized it, they were climbing the stairs to the airplane. Their seats weren’t together but he fixed that by convincing a woman to exchange seats so he could sit by Natalie on the flight to San Juan. He took her hand at take–off and held it through the short thirty–minute hop flight.
At the San Juan airport, he asked about upgrading to first class to sit with Natalie. When he couldn’t, she asked about joining him in coach. But the flight was full and exchanges and upgrades were not happening.
They found seats in the boarding area.
“Brock. I don’t know if I’ll see you once we get to Memphis. I just want to tell you that this time together has been…” She choked a little. Saying good–bye was going to be harder than she’d thought. “It’s been wonderful.”
“It doesn’t have to end. Come home with me. I can get off in Memphis. We can drive to the ranch. It’s only about four hours or so.”
“Oh. That is so sweet, but it’s Christmas Eve. Your family is expecting you, not you and a guest.”
“They’d love to meet you. I’m sure. I can call home when we get to Memphis and let them know.”
She felt her resolve to not go faltering. “I don’t know, Brock. Christmas is such a family holiday.”
He took her hand. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight and tomorrow. Nobody should be alone at Christmas.”
Before she could answer, the gate crew started boarding. She stood when they called first class. Brock didn’t release her hand.
“Think about it. I would love for you to come to Ace–I
n–The Hole. You should be with people at Christmas.”
She nodded and leaned forward to kiss him. She pulled her hand from his and walked down the gateway to the plane.
By the time Brock’s seat number was called, the plane was crowded, people shoving boxes and sacks into every free inch of space they could find. He gave her a wink as he passed.
During the flight, she replayed their time together at the Sand Castle. Replayed their gate conversation.
And then it hit her.
He’d said he didn’t want her to be alone at Christmas. She wanted to slap her forehead. Of course. That’s why he asked her to come to his house. Duh. Being the great guy that he was, he felt sorry for her and wanted to do what he could. That made all the sense in the world.
The smart thing would be to was get off the plane, grab her luggage from luggage claim, and wish him a nice life. Be mature about the whole sleeping together thing. They were adults. They’d had consensual sex. Okay, maybe consensual wild monkey sex but it’d been sex, not a life–long commitment.
In Memphis, she was first off the plane and didn’t wait for him. She hurried down to luggage claim and prayed her luggage would get loaded on the carousel first.
Of course it didn’t. She was still standing there, waiting for the red light to blink and the conveyor belt to move, when she saw Brock striding toward her. His face looked tight, angry.
“You didn’t wait for me,” was his opening line.
“Was I supposed to?” Stupid response but even though her heart was pounding gallons of blood through her body at a rapid rate none of it seemed to be reaching her brain.
“What’s going on, Natalie?” He took her arm and pulled her off to the side. “Talk to me.”
She glanced nervously at the carousel which remained frozen and quiet, then she looked at him.
“Nothing is going on, Brock. But I’m home. You’re headed home. Maybe it’s best if we leave with good memories intact.”
His forehead pulled into a severe frown. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I can’t come home with you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for inviting me. For not wanting me to be alone tonight and tomorrow. But I’ll be fine.” She touched his cheek. “Really.” She kissed him. “Thank you for caring.”
“Damn it, Natalie. It’s more than caring about you.” He raked his fingers through his short hair. “I don’t know what it is but it’s damn sure more than care.”
“Go home. See your family. Smile when you remember me and our time at the Sand Castle.”
The red light on the luggage carousel began to blink and a loud horn honked.
“That’s us.” She turned to walk away when he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“This is it? You’re walking away from…from…”
“Yeah. Exactly.” She dug in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Call me sometime. Let me know you’re okay.”
She pulled out of his grasp and found her luggage circling. She pulled it off, jerked up the handle and rolled it to her car. She didn’t let herself cry until she was safely behind her wheel and pulling onto Winchester Road. And then the waterworks hit.
Chapter Ten
Brock was in a foul mood by the time he pulled into the ranch drive. Natalie had stunned him in Memphis. He’d been shocked when he’d gotten off the plane and she’d already headed to luggage claim. But when she said she’d rather be alone than spend the holidays with him, the jab to his gut had left him breathless.
But Natalie wasn’t the only surprise awaiting him. The family home was decked out in twinkling lights from the roof to the eaves, to every pole on the porch. In the big picture window stood an enormous evergreen with sparkling lights, ornaments he hadn’t seen in years, and old–fashioned tinsel. He could see wrapped packages piled high under the tree.
He was home.
He was barely in the door when Hurricane Lauren whirled up and fired twenty questions at him, not giving him a chance to answer even the first one.
“Did you have fun? What was the resort like? Was it as great as it looked on the internet? Were there any movie stars there? I heard that it was the in place for them. I saw the parasail pictures. Was it fun? Who was the girl in the picture with you? How were your flights?”
Laughing, he pulled his sister in and kissed her forehead. “It was great. The resort was incredible. No movie stars. Can I tell you more once I set my luggage down?”
George and Cody grinned up at him from the two living room sofas.
“Welcome home, bro,” Cody said. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“We didn’t burn down the house or barn while you were gone.”
Brock laughed. “I knew you’d do fine.”
And he had. Sort of. He just hadn’t been willing to let go. But it was obvious they had done fine without him for ten days. Maybe it was time to let them shoulder more of the responsibility around here. At least Cody and George should. Lauren was going to college. He’d sent Cody and George. He wanted to make sure they had more opportunities than he’d ever had.
Not that he begrudged his life. He didn’t. He just hadn’t realized how lonely it was until now.
Until Natalie.
“Okay then,” he said, dropping his luggage at the foot of the stairs. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”
Christmas morning brought frigid winds and stinging shards of sleet. The minute Brock’s feet hit the cold hardwood floor, he longed for the hot days at the Sand Castle.
Holiday or not, there was cattle to feed and stalls to muck.
And one sexy, unforgettable woman he needed to forget. Surely ten hours of hard labor would help.
When he got downstairs, fresh coffee filled the pot. Biscuit and ham sandwiches were in the oven on warm. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. His siblings were nowhere to be seen.
After pouring a cup of coffee, he retrieved a hot biscuit sandwich from the oven. He leaned his hip on the counter as he ate, wondering where his siblings were. Wondering if, now that he was home, they’d slept in and handed all the responsibilities back to him.
He sighed. He knew it’d been too good to be true.
As he had the thought, the back door flew open and three icy humans stomped into the kitchen.
“Good Lord it’s cold out there,” Lauren complained. She slapped her gloves together to knock off the ice before slipping them off and dropping them on the table. “Morning sleepyhead,” she teased.
“You have perfect timing,” George said. “We just finished feeding the horses. The barn can wait until this afternoon.”
“What about the cattle?”
“Hank and I will head out after breakfast and presents.” Cody grinned. “We sort of have us a routine now. Hank and I take care of the stock. George and Lauren are in charge of the barn.”
Brock nodded. “Sounds good. Who cooks and does the laundry?”
“Yeah, well. We were kind of hoping to talk you into a housekeeper.”
Brock shook his head. “We can’t afford it.”
“Yeah, we can,” Cody said. “I’ve been looking at the books and, ah, hell. This can wait until tomorrow. I say we get to the present opening.”
Even as Brock followed his loud and boisterous family to the living room, he felt like a semi had driven through his chest, leaving a gaping hole. He plastered a smile on his face and joined them in the annual ripping into the Christmas presents.
After all the presents had been opened, and the givers thanked, Cody dragged George along to help with cattle. He’d told Hank to stay home with his family and that George would take Hank’s place. George had grumbled, but hadn’t put up much of an argument.
The minute the door slammed in the kitchen, Lauren pounced on him. “You know, Brock. Our brothers might have heads thick as slabs of concrete but I don’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brock picked up his empty coffee cup from the sofa table and stood to go to the kitchen
.
“You are not the same Brock we sent on vacation.”
He whirled to face her. “I don’t have an idea what you are rambling about.” He whirled back and headed for the sink of dirty dishes.
She followed him.
“Lauren, just leave it be. Okay? I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He heard her sniff. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who pushed this vacation on you and everybody else.”
“It’s not your fault. There’s nobody at fault for anything. Aren’t you supposed to go over to your friend’s house for Christmas brunch?”
“That’s not for another two hours.”
He looked at her. She wasn’t grown but she wasn’t a little girl anymore. But he damned sure wasn’t discussing his love life with her…or any of his family.
“Look, pumpkin. The vacation was great. The weather was hot. The water was warm. The food was delicious. I’m just grumpy being back in cold, wet weather. That’s all.” He pasted on his plastic smile again. “Who’d want to leave paradise?”
“Are you sure that’s all?”
“I’m sure.” He hugged her. “Now get out of here and go on to the Pettys’. I have laundry to do.”
She hugged him back. “We’re glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.”
Once she left, the house fell into a deathly quiet. Brock slumped on the sofa. He’d screwed up. He wasn’t sure how or what he’d said or done, but there was no way Natalie didn’t feel about him the way he felt about her.
He hadn’t gone looking for love but damned if it hadn’t sneaked up and bit him on the ass.
Love. He’d fallen in love with Natalie Diamond. Even now he could picture her standing at the sink in the kitchen, or snuggling up next to him on the sofa, or, better yet, naked and moaning in his bed. His cock woke up at that thought.
They owed it to each other to see where this relationship–or whatever it was–went.
He pulled her card from his pocket and dialed her home phone number. The phone began to ring. The palms of his hands began to sweat. It was possible he was in this all by himself. It was possible that he had just been a fling for Natalie.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 37