With every romantic relationship she’d ever had, she’d worried about not being enough. Had been told she wasn’t enough, time after time. Here was Simon—wonderful and kind and everything a woman could want—and he worried about the same thing. Not being enough. How was she supposed to keep from loving him?
She crossed to him and put her hands on the lapel of his jacket, before pushing it off his shoulders. Catching it as it fell, she draped the garment on the back of her sofa.
He grabbed her arms. “Say something.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
She raised herself on tiptoe to kiss him. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
At the first touch, at the first whisper of his breath, she felt herself relax. She would think about his words later, let them heal her, but for now, all she needed was him.
He reached for her, then drew back.
“Don’t you want to talk about what happened?” he asked.
“No.”
She didn’t need to. Not anymore.
He drew her to him again, this time holding on as if he would never let go. His mouth claimed hers in a deep kiss that stirred her very soul. His hands were everywhere—up and down her back, along her arms, cupping her face. She felt his arousal, but more important, she felt his need and responded in kind.
She touched him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. Underneath was a T-shirt and she groaned in impatience as she pushed it up so she could touch bare skin. He undid the zipper at the back of her dress, unfastened her bra with a flick of his fingers, then cupped her breasts.
Heat engulfed them. The wanting grew until it was more powerful than the need to breathe. She was already wet and desperate, her legs shaking.
“Take me,” she whispered against his mouth, her fingers tugging at his belt.
He froze, his body stiff, his eyes locked on hers.
“Take me,” she said again, rubbing her hand against his erection.
For a second, he did nothing. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the bedroom. He jerked open the nightstand drawer so hard, it crashed to the floor. Everything in it went flying, but he found the box of condoms in seconds.
While he opened the box, she pulled off her thong and slid onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes, unfastened his slacks, shoved them down, then joined her.
“Montana, I should—”
“No.”
She reached between them, guiding him to her. The tip of him brushed against her opening and she pulsed forward, pushing up as he slid inside.
He filled her spectacularly, stretching, rubbing, exciting. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him in more. His mouth settled on hers, his tongue teasing her to a new level of arousal while his erection did the same to the rest of her body.
Deeper and deeper, faster and faster. She lost herself in the desperate race to her release. She touched him everywhere she could reach, clung to him, pumping her hips as her muscles tightened. He filled her over and over again. With every thrust, her tension rose.
He drew back a little so he could stare into her eyes. She looked back, knowing he saw the pleasure on her face as she saw it on his.
Still watching her, he straightened a little more. Continuing to thrust in and out, he reached a hand between them and rubbed her swollen center. One circle, two, and on the third, she lost herself in her climax, the waves rippling through her, making her shudder and cry out and hang on.
The pleasure went on for what felt like forever, then he gasped and went still, his muscles jerking as he gave himself to her.
Later, when they were both naked and in her bed rather than on it, he stroked her face.
“I don’t understand you,” he said. “You’re not still mad.”
“That’s true.”
“But it’s not the flowers.”
“No. It’s what you said.” Nevada and Max had been right. Simon’s actions had been about him, not her. He hadn’t been making a statement, he’d been trying to protect her.
“I don’t understand.”
She grinned. “You don’t have to.”
“I guess not.” He brushed his fingers across her lips. “It occurs to me that you might not have the same feelings about the fundraiser as I do.”
“That’s true.”
“So you might like to go with me.”
“I might.”
“Will you?”
She would, she realized, go with him anywhere. But that wasn’t the question he’d asked and this wasn’t the time to tell him that.
“I would be delighted to come with you. I’ll do my best to protect you from the worst of it.”
“Even you are not that good.”
She laughed. “We’ll see.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“EXPLAIN THAT TO ME,” Max said as he walked Cupcake, one of the newer service dog candidates, on the sidewalk by the park.
Montana looked where he pointed and saw several of the Fool’s Gold cheerleaders practicing.
“What’s to explain? I know you watch football. You’ve seen cheerleaders before.”
“There’s a lot of them.”
“We encourage participation here in town. You should see them at Christmas.”
Max glanced at her. “Christmas?”
“They do holiday cheers as a fundraiser so they can go to cheerleader camp in the summer. You hire them to go cheer at someone’s house. They appear at business events, as well. The tourists love them.”
“Fool’s Gold has gotten weirder in the past few years.”
“It’s wonderful. Don’t be such a cynic.”
They walked next to each other, each with a service dog. Buddy walked next to Montana. This time his primary function was to show Cupcake how it was done. Along with her unfortunate name, Cupcake had a bit of Border collie in her. She was one of the smartest dogs they had, but a bit prone to getting into trouble. Max wasn’t sure if she would make it through the program.
“You’re happier today,” he said. “Win the fight?”
“There wasn’t a fight and there wasn’t a win. You were right—he didn’t ask me to the fundraiser for reasons that had nothing to do with me. He was being nice. In a weird, twisted guy way.”
“Gotta take the good with the bad. But you still won.”
She groaned. “No. If you want to win, then someone inevitably loses. That’s not the way to have a good relationship. Both parties have to feel good at the end of the day, or what’s the point?”
“Very wise, little grasshopper.”
She laughed. “Not yet, but I’m getting there.”
For once the streets were quiet. Hardly any tourists and only a few residents were out. They’d passed the cheerleaders, and stillness filled the air.
“Max, did you used to know my mom?”
He kept his attention on Cupcake. “Why do you ask?”
“She has the name Max tattooed on her hip and I wondered if that was you.”
He was quiet for a long time, then came to a stop and faced her. “You should ask your mother.”
She felt her mouth drop open. “That means yes.”
Montana knew what Nevada had told her, what her sister believed, but she’d dismissed the possibility. There was no way her mother had ever dated Max Thurman. But it looked like Montana was wrong.
“You guys went out. You were involved! What happened? Why did you leave town? Was it because of my dad? Were you there first or was he?”
Her mind swirled with possibilities. “Were you in love with her?”
“Kid, I’m not answering any of your questions. Like I said, if you want to know more, ask your mother. It’s her business.”
“And yours?”
He raised his eyebrows as if asking her if she really thought he was that stupid, then continued walking Cupcake. Montana moved with him.
“You’re not going to say anything else?” she asked.
“On that topic? No.”
�
�So I should change the subject?”
“That would be my suggestion.”
MONTANA SPRAWLED IN A CHAIR in Dakota’s living room while Hannah played on a quilt on the floor. Nevada and Kent were digging chips into salsa. Dakota sat on the sofa, her feet propped up.
“Ethan said we’re making too much out of nothing,” Nevada announced after she’d chewed and swallowed. “Sometimes he’s really a pain in the—” She glanced at Hannah. “A-s-s,” she spelled, then rolled her eyes. “I think he’s too happy with Liz and all their kids. It’s making him sanctimonious.”
“I know,” Montana said. “He was all about us leaving this alone. I can’t. It’s too weird.”
“Mom didn’t just fall to earth, fully formed, the day she married Dad,” Dakota said reasonably, then she leaned her head against the back of the sofa. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally freaked by this. I don’t want her to have had a life before Dad. It’s not right. I always knew about the tattoo, but tried to tell myself it was a very strange birthmark.”
Kent sat on the floor with Hannah and pulled the baby onto his lap. “I remember years ago, when I was Reese’s age, seeing one of my teachers on a date, at the movies. It was the strangest thing. Until then, I’d never thought about teachers having lives outside of school. I guess I thought they were shut down and put in a box until it was time for class.”
“This is bigger than seeing a teacher eating buttered popcorn,” Nevada told them. “This is Mom and Max Thurman. The tattoo is a big deal. Back when she was what, nineteen or twenty, nice girls didn’t get tattoos. It’s not like it is now. So there was something going on between them.”
Montana had a feeling that something was a lot of hot monkey sex. “Whatever it is, it ended and she married Dad. Isn’t that what’s important?”
“Why did it end?” Dakota asked.
Montana completely understood the significance of the question. It was one thing if their mother had met Ralph, fallen madly in love, then dumped Max. The story had a very different flavor if Max had been the one to end things, or if somehow he had stolen her away from their dad. But that wasn’t right, because she’d married Ralph and not Max.
“We could ask her,” Nevada said tentatively. “You could ask her,” Montana said. She drew in a breath. “I’m trying to tell myself I’m making too big a deal out of this. So she had a boyfriend.” Except she couldn’t reconcile the word boyfriend with the reality of her middle-aged mother with a tattoo.
“You don’t suppose…” Dakota’s voice trailed off.
They all looked at her.
“What?” Nevada demanded, then shook her head. “No. No way. I don’t accept that.”
“Accept what?” Kent asked.
Montana was about to ask the same question, when she realized where Dakota’s mind had gone.
If Max had come first, was it possible their mother had been pregnant when she married Ralph? Pregnant with Max’s baby?
“I don’t believe that,” Montana said.
“Believe what?” Kent demanded. “I hate it when you guys do this.”
“What if Mom was pregnant with Max’s baby when she married Dad?” Montana asked. “That would make Ethan our half brother.”
“You three are crazy.” Kent continued to play with Hannah. The baby grinned happily as she bounced on his lap. “Ethan is not our half brother. Have you seen him? He looks exactly like Dad. Whatever was going on with Max, it has nothing to do with the six of us. You’re searching for trouble where it doesn’t exist.”
The sisters looked at each other. “He has a point,” Dakota said. “It’s just Max is kind of dangerous and sexy, even now. Imagine what he was like thirty-five years ago.”
“Do I have to?” Kent asked.
“She’s right.” Nevada shifted in her seat. “Max is the kind of guy who sweeps a woman off her feet. They have to have been together first. I can’t believe Mom was dating Dad, left him for Max, got a tattoo and then went back with Dad.”
“We have to figure out what happened between them,” Dakota said.
“Not necessarily. We don’t consider Dad a sexy guy, but we weren’t dating him,” Montana pointed out. “They were always crazy about each other. Maybe it was love at first sight. Maybe Dad came between Max and Mom.”
“One of you should talk to her,” Kent said.
Nevada raised her eyebrows. “One of us? Why one of us? Why not you? Or is this a girl thing?”
“It’s exactly a girl thing. The only thing Mom and I talk about is how much she hates Lorraine.” He sighed. “Okay, that’s not fair, but I can see it’s on her mind. I am not asking our mother about her love life when she was a teenager.”
“Coward,” Dakota said with a grin. “You men are so emotionally delicate.”
“I’ll do it,” Montana said. “I haven’t been to see her in a while. I’ll talk to her about Simon and then ease the conversation into past loves and Max.”
“Do you really think she’ll be fooled? Nevada asked.
“No, but I can pretend she will be. I’ll ask and report back.”
SIMON FOUND HIMSELF at a large table at the Fox and Hound, surrounded by women. Some were younger, like Charity Golden, the town’s city planner. Others were well past the age of consent, as one of his favorite nurses used to say. Women able to get a senior discount without showing ID. Mayor Marsha fell into that category, as did several other city council members and a rather stern-looking seventyish woman in a bright yellow tracksuit. Her name was Eddie something and she was the one who had told him he needed to make an honest woman of Montana.
So far the conversation had been pleasant. The women had chatted about various things happening around town. He’d been brought up to date on Pia’s twins, Dakota Hendrix’s pregnancy, the upcoming groundbreaking for a new casino resort north of town, and the fact that the Castle Ranch had finally been purchased by a family who seemed as if they were going to stay.
On the ranch front, someone had said something about a woman named Heidi who raised goats and lived with her grandfather, but he figured they had to be making that up.
Lunch had been ordered and delivered, food mostly eaten and still no one mentioned the actual reason for the meeting. That they were going to do their best to convince him to stay.
He was used to the pressure. It happened everywhere he went. He’d had village chieftains offer him everything from chickens to virgin daughters. In more westernized areas, the enticements included money, positions on boards, stock options and the occasional daughter, with no promise of virginity made.
Their server came and cleared the plates. Simon glanced toward the door and wondered if he could simply make a run for it. Glancing at the women seated around him, he doubted he could make it to the door before them. Senior citizens or not, they were determined.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed why we asked you to join us for lunch,” Mayor Marsha said.
“I have an idea.”
“You’ve brought so much to this community,” she continued. “Your work is extraordinary, but it’s more than that. You have a dedication to your patients that touches us all. You care and we respect that.”
Care? He saw himself as brilliant, gifted and, at times, a complete tyrant. But caring? Had they met him?
“One of the things that makes Fool’s Gold a unique community is that we are so much more than a group of people who happen to live in the same place. We have an emotional bond that makes us more like a family. Many of us can trace our roots back several generations.”
“The Hendrixes are one of our founding families,” Eddie said helpfully. “You like Montana, right?”
One of the other women shushed her.
“What?” Eddie demanded. “We’ve all seen it. Are we going to pretend we don’t know they’re having sex?”
Charity winced, then turned to him. “Sorry. Eddie is…er, unique.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
Simon held up a han
d. “It’s fine. I get her point.” At least Montana wasn’t here to witness all this, he thought, not sure if she would laugh or be embarrassed. Probably both.
“As I was saying,” Marsha continued, shaking her head slightly, “you bring a lot to the hospital and we think we have a lot to give in return. Which leads me to my question. What is your dream offer?”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me what it would take to get you to stay. We’re building a new hospital. You could help with the design—create your dream facility.”
He wasn’t used to that, he realized. All the other places had simply thrown things at him, hoping to convince him with volume. No community had ever thought to ask what he wanted.
He looked at their hopeful faces and knew they would try to fulfill any request. If he wanted to run the hospital board, they would make it happen. It he wanted a fifty-foot picture of himself on the mountain, it would appear.
If only it were that simple.
“What I want,” he said slowly, “is for people to be more careful around fire, because this one life is all we get. What I want is for parents to stop hurting their kids.” He drew in a breath. “That’s not what you meant.”
Marsha smiled gently. “No, that’s not what we meant.”
What did he want? He knew there was no answer to the question because staying wasn’t an option. Selling him on the town wasn’t necessary—he already liked it here. If he could stay…
“I appreciate the offer,” he told them. “Fool’s Gold is great. I’ve enjoyed my time here. My decision to leave isn’t about the town. It’s about me.”
“How can we change that?” the mayor asked.
“You can’t.”
“I APPRECIATE THAT YOU stopped by,” Montana said, “but you look weird lying on the grass in a suit.”
Simon kissed her palm. “I took off my jacket.”
“Well, then, that makes it okay.”
After his lunch with the mayor and her friends, he’d come by the kennel to see Montana. She had been outside with the puppies, enjoying the warm afternoon. He’d joined them, stretching out on the grass, letting the puppies crawl all over him.
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