by Alison Kent
“And grease and oil and sweat. Not exactly GQ-scented material.”
“Mmm. Much better.” She cuddled closer, drawing her entire body onto his, and tucking her feet between his legs.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, his eyes drifting shut as Harley’s weight settled so comfortably against him.
“How about this?” she asked, the fingers of one hand pressing hard at his nape, circling over and over against the tight knots of muscle.
“Yeah, that, too,” he managed, sinking deeper into oblivion. Her other hand took up the same motion, running a line from his biceps over his shoulder and up to his neck. She pressed, massaged, rubbed, and squeezed. And Gardner groaned.
“Feel good?”
“You have to ask?” He moaned again. Ecstasy.
“You ought to hire a masseuse,” Harley whispered, dusting tiny kisses along his jaw.
“No way.” His body was gelatin.
“Why not? You need it. You’re enjoying it. It’s obviously doing you good.”
“You’re doing me good.” The hand at his nape was now at his scalp. His head bounced twice as his chin hit his chest.
“A professional would know which muscles need the kinks worked out.”
I’ll show you kinks, he thought, then said, “I don’t want a professional. I want you.”
She leaned forward, still rubbing, still massaging, and flicked her tongue against his ear. “Why?”
“Why what?” He was hot. Liquid. Burning up and melting at the same time.
“Why do you want me?”
“I’m too tired to think, Harley. And I’m way too tired to talk.”
“I don’t want you to talk, Gardner And I don’t want you to think.” Leaning back against the couch arm, she pulled his head to her chest and tucked him close. “I want you to feel. Just close your eyes and feel.”
How could he help but feel with the way she touched him? The way she drew exhaustion from his body and eased him into the hazy edges of sleep. The way she rocked his body with hers, holding him until he slumbered beneath her.
The way she punched holes in the logical way he’d planned out his life.
That wasn’t supposed to have happened, he thought, then Harley turned out the lights.
SEVENTEEN
FRIDAY MORNING WHEN HARLEY WOKE, she was alone on the couch in the den. Gardner’s warmth and smell were the only things left of the hours she’d spent curled into his side, legs and arms tangled, fingers and lips never far from bare patches of skin.
She stretched, smiled, and decided she could easily grow used to such nights. Then she decided those long days spent learning chess from Everly were worth every minute. If not for winning that second game from Jud, she’d have lost out on precious time with Gardner.
Whether or not she’d made any progress last night remained to be seen. She’d shown him gentle love, soothing love, love born of care and compassion. Today was their picnic, tonight their campout, and she planned to show him more.
She didn’t even mind the prospect of dishes this morning, though when she got to the kitchen—after a quick detour to her room for a shower and change of clothes—she found the drainer full and the dishwasher running.
Not only had Jud cleaned the kitchen, he’d left her a plate of biscuits and ham and had written out instructions on reheating the gravy in the microwave. She chuckled to herself after reading his note and decided he didn’t understand that cooking for one had taught her the finer points of the digital meal.
Even though she could well afford to skip breakfast—especially after Tuesday night’s meat loaf, Wednesday night’s chicken-fried steak, and Thursday night’s pork chops—she sat down at the table and ate. The clock above the humming refrigerator ticked its way to eight. The silence was more than Harley could stand.
Starting the past two days at 5:30 a.m. with a rowdy bunch of cowboys was an experience not to be missed. And she missed it. Strange that for someone who’d never been a morning person, she hadn’t had a bit of trouble making it to the kitchen in time to share the first meal of the day with this overgrown family of men.
Gardner had told her about Judson and Ty but he’d failed to mention Ol’ Pete or the seven other wranglers living on Camelot that made up the Barneses’ extended family. And what a family it was. Food fights at the breakfast table. Tall tales stacked one on top of the other. Discussions of the day ahead and who might need help with what.
Sure they were trying to impress her. She was a guest. But it didn’t lessen the attention they paid to one another. She was so glad Gardner had brought her home.
After cleaning her dishes, she headed outside, stopping on the back porch to take in the view. The screen door bounced once and smacked her on the rear, sending her down the steps with a smile.
Half the dry dusty yard had settled into the leather creases of her red ropers by the time she reached the scattered outbuildings. Next to what looked to be a mechanic’s shed, she found the lower half of Jud sticking out from beneath the Range Rover. The words she heard from his upper half dissuaded her from saying hello. She’d thank him for doing the dishes later.
Continuing on, she stepped inside the barn. The shadows were cool, ripe with the smell of hay and grain, worn leather and animal musk. Tiny coos and murmurs issued from beyond the long row of stalls. She headed in that direction, realizing the voice was Tyler’s. When the mutterings became words and the words took on meaning, she stopped.
“C’mon, now. Quit your beggin’. Man, you women are all alike. You gotta be waited on hand and foot.”
Brow furrowed, Harley stepped closer. There was something compelling about Tyler’s tone—and the distinctly canine sound of the whimpers that had now reached her ears.
“C’mon, Guin. I’m not asking for a lot. Look, you can ignore your old man but you can’t ignore your doctor. Now open your mouth.”
Harley stopped at the last stall. The dog lying on a pallet of old quilts and blankets had long since caught her scent and was obviously ignoring Tyler and the pill he held in favor of this newest distraction.
Tyler shushed the weak bark and looked up from where he’d hunkered down next to the dog. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself,” Harley responded, making her way cautiously into the stall.
“Gardner’s not here.”
“I didn’t think he would be.” Slowly, so as not to alarm the dog, Harley maneuvered into a sitting position. She leaned back against the plank wall and drew her knees to her chest. “The house was too quiet. I saw Jud under the Rover but I don’t think he’s in the mood for company.”
“Well, company’s definitely welcome in here,” Tyler said, scratching a spot behind the dog’s left ear. “I’m surprised Guinevere’s pitiful pleas for attention haven’t brought the entire crew running.”
“What happened?” Harley asked, noting the bandage circling the black, brown, and white furred rib cage.
“She’s really too old to do much of anything except get in the way but she can’t stand being left out of the goings-on around here.” Tyler moved his fingers in a circle around the dog’s neck. His expression was as tender as his touch. “The other day I carried her along when I went to check on a downed calf Ol’ Pete found. Guin can’t get herself up into the truck any longer so I have to lift her into the cab.”
“Then you do wait on her hand and foot,” Harley said, enchanted by the picture of man and his best friend.
“Oh, yeah. She’s got me wrapped around her little paw, don’tcha girl,” Tyler said, leaning forward and rubbing his nose against Guin’s. He suddenly straightened, avoiding Harley’s gaze, and Harley couldn’t help but smile.
“Anyway, I lifted her down from the truck and she plopped right down for a nap. Only she did her plopping a little too close to the calf for Momma Cow’s liking. By the time I heard the ruckus and turned around, Guin had managed to drag herself under the truck but Momma was still stomping.
“She’s got a real
bad case of bruised ribs,” Tyler explained, sitting back and stretching out his legs. “She’s also got enough stitches to give her the look of a patchwork quilt. Her injuries aren’t serious. But her spirit’s gone.”
“You’ve had her a long time?” Harley asked, watching the dog pull herself halfway into Tyler’s lap.
“Gardner gave her to me right after our folks died. She was already about five. Like they say, it’s not the years, it’s the mileage.” Tyler buried his fingers in the ruff of Guin’s fur and the dog’s eyes drifted shut. “She’s put in some long hard ones.”
“I never had a pet,” Harley said, and when Tyler glanced up added, “You make me wish I had.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing she can’t talk or I’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble. I’ve told this girl more than I’ve ever told anyone,” Tyler said, his expression darkening. “I really gave Gardner a heck of a rough time the first couple of years after our folks died.
“But I gotta admit that once I got my head outta my butt I realized he was a better dad than our father. He’s certainly done a better job managing the place.” Ty cleared the pained look from his face and cracked a bold smile. “I figure that’s because he knows how to delegate.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Harley teased, thinking of all he’d ordered her to do.
“He’s a bossy son of a gun, ain’t he?” Tyler laughed. “Jud takes care of the house and the equipment. I take care of the animals and school. The crew manages the stock. And Gardner, well, he takes care of all of us.” He glanced up then, sincerity knocking the cocky edge from his expression. “I’m glad to see he finally found someone to take care of him.”
“I don’t think Gardner needs anyone to take care of him.”
“Oh, he needs it all right. He just won’t admit it. For some reason, he’s a real brick wall when it comes to relationships. It’s his way or the highway if you know what I mean.”
Oh, yeah. She knew exactly. And was doing her best to make Gardner see what he’d been missing. Harley smiled at the dog’s contented wuffle and sigh. “How long until Guin is up and around?”
Tyler eased his legs from beneath the snoozing dog. “Physically, she’ll heal up in a couple of weeks. She’ll never be as good as new. Who would be at ninety? I guess that’s what worries me more than anything. Losing someone who’s been there for me most of my life.” Tyler forced a laugh and looked up at Harley. She saw the little boy in his eyes. “This’ll sound stupid but it’s kinda the same way I feel about going to college in the fall.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Harley prompted.
“You grow used to someone being there, you know. And when you don’t have them around every day it throws off your schedule.”
Oh, what she would have given to have grown up in a family full of this much love. “Gardner will always be there for you, Ty.”
“Yeah, but once I’m off to College Station, who’ll be here for him?”
EIGHTEEN
“ARE YOU BARNES MEN FATTENING me up for the kill?” Harley asked, the evening breeze cooling the sun’s heat from the air.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gardner answered, stroking a cherry tomato over Harley’s lips—a tomato the same color as her jeans.
Sitting cross-legged on the quilt Gardner had spread beneath the oak tree, Harley grasped his wrist to still the maddening motion of his hand. She licked the tomato from between his fingers, catching a taste of mesquite smoke and chicken, and Gardner’s salty-sweet skin.
She bit down. Juice and seeds spewed into her mouth. “First you feed me monstrously fattening dinners each night. Then breakfasts with enough cholesterol to kill a cow.”
His fingers were moving again, roaming, teasing. She tightened her hold. His touch drifted lower. What was it they’d been talking about? “What exactly does Jud do to his biscuits to get them that high?”
“I’m sure your cholesterol doesn’t want to know.” Lounging on one elbow like some pagan god, Gardner tugged at her lip with the pad of his thumb. “And don’t accuse me of being involved in any conspiracy. There’s not an ounce of fat in this picnic.”
She’d noticed that. That everything he’d packed to eat was low fat, low cholesterol, low calorie. Too bad she had a low appetite.
“You did all right, Barnes. A girl could get used to this kind of attention.” Next, she’d work on the worship. Then she’d go for the love. She kissed the tip of his thumb. “There’s hope for you yet.”
“How about hope for us?” He sat up, shifted closer, threaded his fingers into her hair.
She nearly choked on a tomato seed. “Is it time to get serious?”
For a moment, he stared, searching her face, looking deeper than the surface. Then he shook his head. And his eyes said no. “I think it’s time for dessert.”
The anticipation of splendor. What a beautiful thing. Gardner pulled her mouth close to his. She splayed her hands over his shirt. His breath touched her skin. His muscles quivered beneath her palms.
“I have a need, Harley. It’s fierce. Powerful. I’ve lived with it a long time But now it’s connected to you.” He lifted his head and gazed down. His eyes glowed a hot, hot green. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Tell me. Just tell me.”
Lips curled up in a racy smile, he dipped his finger in the hollow of her throat. “It started the day I saw a very sexy woman on a plane.”
“Sexy? Is that all you saw?”
He sobered then, stilled every motion but the beating of his heart. Her fingers measured the rhythm. The meter matched that of her own.
After a minute, he raised his head. “I saw a child. Our child.”
Children. Always children. Her hands slid to her lap. “Gardner, you didn’t even know me then. You really don’t know me now.”
He blinked, banished whatever it was that haunted him. The promise in his eyes raised her spirits—and her temperature.
“I can fix that.”
Arousal, like wildfire, raced over her skin. “Sounds like you have a plan.”
“What I plan is to do this right, so that every time you take off your clothes you think of me.”
Then he took off her clothes.
And while the sun vanished and the moon cast its own pale light from the sky, Gardner worshipped her well and good.
Harley looked out through the Range Rover’s windows at the barest edges of pink-tinted dawn. Gardner lay beside her, his breathing uneven. She wondered if he’d slept at all.
She’d managed to drift and doze but nothing deeper. It was almost as if her subconscious was counting the hours, determined not to waste a minute in sleep.
They’d climbed into the back of the Rover sometime around midnight after forgoing dessert in favor of each other. They’d talked off and on the hours beyond, sharing secrets and dreams, playing twenty questions, and telling knock-knock jokes.
But it was time for the games to stop. She was going home tomorrow and they’d yet to settle a thing.
She rolled onto her side, tucking both hands beneath her chin. “Are you asleep?”
Gardner nodded without opening his eyes.
She leaned over and kissed his thick lashes The double layer of sleeping bags cushioned her aching bones. But the way she figured, the discomfort of their makeshift bed didn’t even rate as a problem. “I want you to do something for me.”
Gardner’s dimple flashed. “Again?”
Glaring down at his closed eyes, she decided it was a good thing they’d tugged their clothes back on or she might’ve taken him up on the offer. She couldn’t believe how she wanted him.
“No, I want you to close your eyes and tell me what you see.”
“My eyes are closed.”
“Then keep them that way and tell me what you see”
His dimple deepened. “Hmm. Red veins on flesh.”
Men. Harley rolled her eyes then cuddled against him and whispered in his ear. “Tel
l me what you see that keeps you awake.”
“I… see… the future.”
Ignoring his crystal-ball sarcasm, Harley parted the plackets of his unsnapped shirt “How far into the future? Minutes? Days?” She wound a sprig of his chest hair around her finger “Years, maybe?”
“Hey,” he hollered, grabbing her hand.
“C’mon, Gardner. It’s just a little hair,” she said and tugged.
“Yeah, but it’s got roots. Roots connected to nerves. Nerves connected to muscles. Pull too hard and who knows what might pop up.”
In my wildest dreams, she thought, leaning over to taste his skin “So you’re saying that minutes from now things are going to be… on the rise?”
He wiggled both brows.
Harley sighed. She could spend a lifetime on Camelot and never get enough of this man. “How about days from now? Start with what will happen Monday after I’m gone.”
A scowl creased his face. “Who said you’re leaving?”
“You know I have to.”
He captured her fingers and held her hand beneath his. “I don’t know anything except that I want you here.”
“C’mon, Gardner. Tell me about Monday.” She’d never make her point if he kept thwarting her efforts. Or if his heart didn’t stop beating so hard in her palm.
“Mondays are always lousy.” Gardner snorted. “But without your doom-and-gloom predictions, I ought to be able to wallow in my fatty breakfast peacefully.”
“Very funny,” Harley said, unable to contain a private grin. “What else?”
“I’ll more than likely stick to horseback Monday. After last night, the Rover smells too much like you.”
Harley breathed deeply. “I think it smells like us.”
Gardner’s hand tightened around her fingers. He was silent for several moments then shook his head. “All those hours in the saddle are going to be tough without someone to work out the kinks when I get home.”
Harley didn’t even want to think about anyone else working out Gardner’s kinks. “What about supper?”
“Oh, I’ll get to hear a blow-by-blow of everything that went wrong with Jud and Ty’s day. Then they’ll grill me like a steak, asking why I couldn’t talk you into staying.” He grunted. “Monday’s going to be a bitch.”