Riding High

by Stacy Finz

  “Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Gia couldn’t remember whether she’d made her bed; she’d rushed out early, hoping to have coffee with Flynn. Of course he’d taken off before they could discuss what had happened the previous night.

  Coward.

  “I’d love to,” Maddy said, obviously dying to get a look at the place.

  Gia told her to bring her coffee and gave her the grand tour, starting first on the main level. There was a bottom floor—Ray Rosser’s man cave—with a pool table, wet bar, and ginormous flat-screen. It also had a gym and an office. Gia used the library on the main floor for her day trading and rarely went downstairs. If she ever entertained, though, the basement would be perfect.

  “It’s a bit much for one person.” Gia laughed. The locals must think she was crazy for buying a place this big.

  “Were you thinking of your program when you purchased it?”

  “Yep.” She let out a sigh. “It has the bunkhouses and the foreman’s home, which is perfect. And of course this house.” Gia took Maddy to the third floor, which had five bedrooms. “See what I mean?”

  Maddy nodded. “That’s what I came over to talk to you about. I felt like we left the meeting on a bad note. When my brother and I bought the Lumber Baron to turn it into an inn, the reception was even worse. It got so nasty that many of the town’s business owners hung anti-inn banners on their buildings. So I identify with what you’re going through and don’t want to be like the residents who did that to me.”

  “But you’re still against the program?” Gia didn’t mean to sound defensive, but Maddy hadn’t spoken up at the meeting.

  “The truth is I like the idea. Very much. But—”

  “You don’t want to contradict your husband.”

  Maddy smiled. “No, I don’t want to publicly contradict the police chief. My husband I can handle.”

  It was Gia’s turn to smile, realizing Maddy was on her side but there were politics involved.

  “As far as the police chief . . . I’m working on him in private,” Maddy said. “But if you want this to happen you’ll have to significantly change your proposal.”

  Gia bristled. “What do you mean change it?”

  “First off, you should call your program a school rather than making it sound like a halfway house.” Maddy held up her hands to stop Gia from interrupting. “I know that sounds awful . . . snobby, judgmental, like nimbyism. . . . But do you want to fight or do you want to win? The second thing you could do is appoint a board of respected Nugget residents to help select the candidates for your school.” Maddy emphasized the word “school.” “These are just suggestions. Ignore them if you want.”

  “I don’t have an aversion to calling it a school. But it would complicate things because I’d have to get special licenses from the state.”

  “Then call it a camp or a retreat, something that doesn’t sound like a homeless shelter to men who make worst-case assumptions. You know what I mean?”

  Like your husband. Gia read her loud and clear. “Okay, I’ll rework the branding. And I don’t have a problem with appointing a board to help with the selection process. You think that will work?”

  “I’m going to be one hundred percent honest with you, Gia. Rhys and Clay are hard sells and both hold a lot of sway around here. Right now, their votes are unequivocal nos. But as hardheaded as they are, they can also be reasonable and have hearts as big as California. It’s up to you to sell them on it. No easy feat, but certainly worth a try. Off the record, because this conversation never happened, we’re all going to ask to meet again. At that point I would bring up these things we talked about.”

  They wandered back to the kitchen and Gia refilled Maddy’s coffee. She got out a package of cookies, tried to artfully arrange them on a plate, and put them out for Maddy.

  “Thank you for the advice . . . and for supporting my plan.”

  Maddy sat on one of the barstools and took a cookie. “I grew up fairly privileged and before I moved to Nugget . . . before Rhys . . . I was married to a Wellmont.” If she was talking about the Wellmonts, they owned one of the largest hotel chains in the world. “It turned out my first husband was in love with someone else.... Well, that’s another story for another day. The point I’m trying to make is that I’d signed a prenup that didn’t give me much. I’d been out of the workforce for years and my confidence was crushed. I may not have been a single mother relying on food stamps, but I felt a certain kind of desperation.... Without my family I would’ve died for the kind of help you want to offer.”

  Gia forced herself to ask, “Do you think I’m in it for the publicity?”

  “I don’t really care why you’re in it if it helps struggling women. I didn’t realize it at first, but just living in this beautiful place helped me get over a very bad time in my life . . . and of course there was Rhys.” Maddy got a dreamy, faraway look on her face.

  “For the record, if I never saw another camera again it would be too soon.”

  Maddy reached her hand across the island and put it on top of Gia’s. “I know it’s been tough, but it’s getting better, right?”

  “Yes,” Gia lied. No need to tell her that the case had become even more complicated.

  “It’s none of my business, but it seems like you and Flynn are forming an attachment.”

  Yeah, she’d become attached to Flynn. More than any man she’d ever been with. No longer did she just look forward to seeing him; she counted the days, the hours, and the minutes until his truck pulled into the driveway. And when she was with him, time ceased to exist. There was just the two of them—and so much chemistry it was explosive.

  But Flynn was the kind of man who had to be in charge. And Gia wasn’t the kind of woman who would allow a man to rule her. Not like her mother had. The only person driving Gia’s course would be her.

  “We’re becoming good friends,” she told Maddy.

  Maddy smiled in that way that said, sure you are. She drained the last of her coffee, took the cup to the sink, and washed it out.

  “Thanks for the caffeine and the tour.” Maddy pulled the straps of her purse over her shoulder. “I’ve gotta get to the inn, but I’m glad we could talk.”

  “Me too. And thanks again.”

  “Remember,” Maddy said, “we never had this conversation.”

  “Got it.” Gia went outside and watched Maddy cut across the field to take the shortcut through Clay’s property.

  She started to go back inside when Flynn’s truck came up the road, whipping up dust as well as her pulse. A smile opened in her chest at the sight of him. He pulled into his usual spot and got out of the truck holding an enormous floral arrangement.

  “Who’s that for?” she asked, leaning against the open doorway.

  “Who do you think?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest notion.” She flashed him a toothy grin and he all but rolled his eyes. “You left so early I figured you had to get home to your wife.”

  “Very funny.” He handed her the arrangement. “They need water.”

  “Are these happy-sex flowers?” She took them to the kitchen and he followed.

  “No, they’re you’ve-bewitched-me flowers.” He gave her a once-over. “Nice shorts.” They were denim cutoffs, nothing special.

  “Thank you . . . for the flowers.” She tried to act nonchalant, but the gesture touched her.

  Evan had showered her with expensive gifts. Hermès scarves, Tiffany jewelry, hard-to-get concert tickets. Even before she knew how he’d paid for them, the presents hadn’t meant much. He’d always made a big deal about how expensive they were and very little about his feelings for her.

  With Flynn there’d been a light that shone in his eyes when he’d handed her the bouquet. She wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to call it love. But it felt like something. Something real.

  “Where’ve you been?” she asked.

  “Besides the florist?” He came up behind her as she filled the vase from th
e tap. “I had breakfast with my brother. We had cattle business to discuss.”

  “Oh?” She turned around and he pinned her to the counter, his lips so close she thought he would kiss her.

  “We need to talk about . . .” He waved his hand between them. “You know what I mean.”

  “About last night?” She couldn’t think with him so close so she ducked under one of his arms and went inside the great room.

  “Gia, don’t run away when I’m trying to have a conversation with you.” He went after her.

  “You mean like you did this morning?”

  He rubbed his hand down his face, removed his hat, and laid it upside down on the side table before sitting next to her. “I figured we both could use a little space.”

  “By my count we had eight hours of space while we slept in separate rooms.”

  Flynn grinned. “That’s because I lose myself when I’m around you.”

  “As you said, I’m bewitching.” She kicked off her sandals and pulled her legs under her butt. “How’s your brother?”

  “Smug.” When she shook her head in question, he said, “Never mind. Was that Maddy Shepard I saw leaving when I drove up?”

  “Yep. She came over for a nice chat.”

  “About what?” He put his arm over the back of the couch.

  “She had some ideas about how I might sell Rhys and Clay on my residential program.”

  “Like what?”

  She snuggled next to him and outlined Maddy’s suggestions. “It’s still a long shot because Rhys and Clay are adamantly against it.”

  “Having her on your side certainly can’t hurt and I like the idea of appointing a board.” He leaned closer and Gia could see the circles under his eyes. “Besides plotting against the police chief what else did you do today? Nothing you shouldn’t have, I hope.”

  “I didn’t even trade.” She’d been too anxious over the aftermath of their lovemaking. Then Maddy had called.

  He let out a loud yawn, confirming her theory.

  “Bad night?” Gia asked, hiding a grin. Served him right for pushing her away like that.

  “What do you think?” he growled into her ear. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

  He got off the couch and before she knew it scooped her up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you with me. My room or yours?”

  “Mine.” It was closer and she was heavy, though Flynn didn’t seem to think so. He carried her like she weighed less than a sack of Styrofoam packing peanuts.

  When they got to where they were going he unceremoniously dumped her in the middle of the bed, pried off his boots, and climbed in next to her. He curled around her so that her back was pulled against his chest and they lay that way until she felt his breathing slow and heard soft snoring.

  She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but Flynn’s warm, hard body proved to be too much of a distraction. His arms and legs cocooned her protectively and his scent—fresh laundry, green grass, and something distinctly Flynn—soothed her senses. Everything about him felt safe and solid—and arousing. She flipped onto her side so she could watch him sleep.

  “Quit squirming,” he said in a sleepy tone that made his voice rumble.

  “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

  He tugged her so that her head lay on his chest. “Better?”

  She could hear his heart beat. “I’m not really a day sleeper.”

  “Try this.” He pulled her completely on top of him, which only made things worse. She could feel his erection pressing against her.

  He gazed up at her, heat in his eyes, and with the agility of a cat rolled her under him. Balancing his weight on his elbows, Flynn brushed his lips over hers. The kiss was feather-soft and her heart dipped. She caged his face in her hands and kissed him again until they were both out of breath. Mouths and tongues dancing to a wild rhythm only they could hear.

  “Flynn?” She forced him down on top of her.

  “I’ll crush you.” He rolled them both to their sides and continued to kiss her.

  Gia pushed up his Henley. She wanted it off, wanted to feel his skin against hers. Flynn whipped it over his head and she took in a breath at the sight of him. His torso rippled with muscle. Apparently lifting hay bales and wrestling calves was better than any gym. Dark hairs sprinkled his chest and wended down into a happy trail that disappeared inside his pants.

  His arms, all muscular and veiny, banded around her, and he whispered, “Take off your top.”

  She wiggled out of his grip, sat up, and tugged off her T-shirt, leaving her in nothing but a see-through bra and shorts. He hummed his appreciation, pulled her back down, and fondled her breasts, playing with her nipples until they puckered pink and proud through the diaphanous lace. His tongue lazily swirled over each one, wetting the fabric until it molded to her.

  “I thought we weren’t doing this again.” She closed her eyes while the pleasure of his warm mouth ripped through her.

  “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” he muttered. “You want to stop?”

  “God no.”

  Flynn lifted his head and her immediate reaction was to pull him back down so he could continue his slow torture.

  “Seriously,” he said, “do you feel like you have to do this in exchange for my representation?”

  She stared at him, hardly believing his words, then bolted upright. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “According to the state bar, I can’t require or demand sexual relations with a client as a condition of representation; employ coercion, intimidation, or undue influence in entering into sexual relations with a client; or continue representation of a client with whom I’m having sexual relations with if it causes me to perform legal services incompetently.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Flynn, you’re actually reciting the rules to me while I’m half naked? Way to be a buzzkill. I’m paying you cash for your legal services, not sex. And the fact that you even had to ask is insulting. No one could ever coerce or intimidate me into doing anything I didn’t want to. So I guess the last question is in your court. Will us sleeping together cause you to be a lousy lawyer?”

  After all that, Flynn actually had the audacity to flash a wolfish grin and flick open the front catch of her bra, drag down the straps, and let the whole thing slither off her. “That answer your question?” He pushed her back down on the bed and straddled her.

  She ran her hands down his chest, went to work on his belt, and felt him suck in a breath. This time she got the buckle undone all by herself and tore open his fly, one button at a time. He pushed the pants over his very fine ass, down his legs, and kicked them away. And everything coalesced in the pit of her stomach. Lust, overwhelming attraction, and something she wouldn’t identify. She knew what it was and willed it away, choosing to focus solely on her hunger for him. It was easier that way.

  He unzipped her shorts and drew them down, making her lift up so he could get them all the way off.

  “These are nice.” Flynn dipped one finger inside her panties, see-through just like the bra, and rimmed the elastic band. “But they’ve got to go,” he said, yanking them off so that she lay there completely open to him.

  “No fair; you still have yours on.”

  He quickly dispensed with his shorts, his impressive erection jutting through a thatch of dark hair, eager and raring to go. The man made her mouth water and her body quiver. Soon his hands, lips, and tongue were everywhere. Touching, laving, and licking. She moaned and let out sounds she didn’t know she was capable of making. Thank goodness the nearest neighbor was a right distance away.

  He left her for a second, leaning over the side of the bed, searching through his jeans. She clawed his back, urging him to return, her body craving his like an addiction. He stumbled up, clutching a foil package, which he tore open with his teeth, removed a condom, and rolled it down his length. Spreading her legs, he touched her center, first with his fingers, then wit
h his mouth.

  “Flynn . . . oh God . . . so good.” She came in a rush, screaming his name.

  The next thing she knew he was inside her, filling her to the brink, moving in and out . . . making it feel so good. Unlike the last time, he went slowly, savoring every thrust and touch. With the sunlight glinting through the spaces in the drapes, they met each other stroke for stroke. He dropped tiny kisses on her face, her throat, and her shoulders, whispering words that would have otherwise been nonsensical but made perfect sense to her. And in that hour, joined together like a perfect merger, they lost themselves. Near the end, before both of them climaxed, he looked down at her and she could’ve sworn she saw his heart in his eyes. It made her tear up as she arched into him, reaching the final pinnacle before crashing down. He followed with a racking shudder while he called out her name. They lay there for a few seconds, panting.

  Sprawled on top of her, he wiped her cheek with his hand. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” She tried to move away.

  “Hey, hey.” He flipped her over, got rid of the condom, and tightened his arms around her. “Where you going?”

  She couldn’t help it and cuddled into his chest, tucking her head under his chin. “Nowhere.”

  “Good.” He glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “What do you say we crash for a little while? Then I should check the cattle.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  He closed his eyes and she spent the next hour watching the best man she’d ever known sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Clay was almost to town when his phone rang. The touch control on his dashboard lit up with his home number.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Where are you?” It was Emily and she didn’t sound right.

  They’d been fighting all morning and he’d left in a huff, which was wrong because Emily deserved his understanding. Intellectually he knew that, but his heart felt like it had been rolled over by a semitruck.

  She didn’t want their baby.

  “Where are you?”

  “Just passed Grizzly Heights. Why?”

  “Can you come home?”

  He pulled over to the side of the road. “What’s wrong?”