She shook her head. “This is stupid.”
“That’s something women don’t forget, Payton. They remember it their whole lives. The only reason you can’t recall it is because it never happened.”
That had to be a lie. She was positive he’d proposed to her at some point. “Hmm,” she mumbled, working to get back on track. “Well, I guess that makes this easier for everyone. You never wanted to marry me, and I’m nauseous at the idea of marrying you. So let’s leave it at that. Goodbye, Archie.”
She ended the call. And though it cut off Archie’s final word, she’d heard the beginnings of it just the same. Fine. Wow, the guy was heartless.
At least she’d done it.
Payton slowed her breaths, allowing the dust to settle as she replayed the conversation in her mind.
Done. She’d really ended things.
But now what? Just what in the world did she want to do?
She considered the audacity of her mom talking with Mrs. Kendall like they were arranging for some playdate amongst a couple of children. Or some staged apology: “You shouldn’t have taken the toy away. Say sorry so you two can make up, okay?” It was just one more blaring example of how messed up her life was.
Her eyes drifted to the painting on the wall, the sight reminding her of where she was. Tucked away in the quiet country, far from Archie and Hollywood and all the demands that came with it.
Her gaze moved to the frame by the bedside, the one Doug had left behind. She pondered on it—or rather, Luke—while brushing through the wet strands of her red hair, the color darker since it was wet. Once her hair was snarl-free, Payton’s arm fell limp to her side.
What was she doing? Living in some world of make-believe?
Maybe. But what was wrong with that? It seemed everyone else had their turn at it. Perhaps it was time to give in to a foolish dream herself. An escape from a life that had become too heavy to hold.
There wasn’t a whole lot of thought in her next few steps. The ones that took her past the incubator, through the kitchen, and then into the front room, the pleasing scent of burning logs luring her on. Flames flickered in the rustic fireplace, which was a welcome sight; as warm as it was in the daytime, the nights here cooled down quick.
Luke sat before the glowing fire, his attention set on a block in his hands.
Payton took slow, quiet steps, the wood floor cool on her bare feet, and watched his eyes narrow in concentration. While a central couch faced the mantel, two angled chairs rested closer to the flames. Luke sat in the far chair, so Payton rounded the one nearby, heat from the fire warming her legs. Wordlessly, she lowered herself onto the recliner.
“Hi there,” Luke mumbled, not taking his eyes off the block in his hands. Looked like a game or puzzle of sorts.
“Hi,” she said, her voice shaky. She moved to scoot farther into the soft leather seat, and realized—as the hem of her nightshirt slipped up her legs—that it was shorter than she thought.
“I have another one of these if you’re interested,” Luke said, extending his arm to hand her the small game. “It’s a brain teaser. You see all these pegs?” He pointed to the dozen or so white pegs in the triangular wedge of wood.
“Yeah.”
“You’re supposed to hop over the other pegs and then take them off the board, like checkers. But you’ve got to be strategic, because you can only jump over the ones nearby, and there has to be an empty hole to jump into, see?” He demonstrated as he explained. “You’ll start with just one empty hole, and you can decide where you’d like it to be, and then keep going until you’re out of options. If you get down to just one peg, you win. If you have more than one left, you’ve lost.”
“That sounds easy enough,” Payton said as she looked over the game.
He chuckled. “Sounds easy, but it’s tricky. Here, I’ll put my pegs back in place and start over with you.”
“Okay.” Payton tugged one of the pegs from its hole, moved it over another peg along the edge, and landed it into the empty space. “These look like golf tees.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Not that I’ve golfed a lot,” she said. “I’ve done charity events with my dad.” She pulled out the one she hopped over and rested it on her lap before repeating he action. She worked until there were four pegs remaining. Sadly, none were side by side. “Looks like I lost this one,” she mumbled, pressing the pegs back into place.
“Dang,” Luke mumbled. “I was hoping you could solve it and show me how it’s done.”
She smiled. “Don’t you already know how to do it?”
He shook his head. “These are Pete’s. He can solve anything, I swear. We made a bet that if I took these home with me when summer began and couldn’t solve it before school started, I’d have to take him out to lunch.”
“Ah,” she said with a laugh. “Smart kid.”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “The lunch, I don’t mind. But he tagged something onto the deal.”
Payton lifted a brow, allowed herself to look Luke in the eye. The magnetic pull she felt toward him drawing her in once more. “What was it?”
“I’d have to tell the waiter that he’s smarter than me.”
A laugh snuck up Payton’s throat. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He’s a stinker, that one.”
“Well, then, I guess we better figure this thing out.”
He chuckled. “Yep.”
They worked in the light of the flickering flames, the crackling fire calming Payton’s nerves. Or perhaps it was the simple task of the puzzle, or the easy conversation between her and Luke. She liked being near him. He was good at being in the moment, as they say. Not in some hurried state like most of the people in her life.
“Hey,” he mumbled after a while. “I shouldn’t have said any of that tonight. About Archie Kendall and your parents, I mean.”
“No,” she said, realizing it was the very thing that sparked her into action. “I’m glad you brought it up. I might not have been very open about things, but it got me thinking.” She didn’t offer more, only continued to work quietly on her puzzle as Luke did the same.
By the time she lost her third game, the light had waned slightly, the fire dying down to smaller, smoldering flames. Payton sank onto the floor and sat beside the foot-high base of the mantel, tucking her feet beneath her. She adjusted the hem of her nightshirt to ensure her thighs were covered.
“Having any luck?” Luke asked.
She glanced up to see that he was joining her on the floor. A soft wool rug covered the wood there, the looped fibers soaking up the heat. It felt warm against her, but not as warm as Luke’s bare skin as his straightened legs grazed her knees. He’d stepped into gym shorts and put on a tee shirt. And though his chest wasn’t exposed this time, a recollection of those muscular contours rushed to her mind.
All sorts of goose bumps surfaced over her skin. She rubbed a hand over her arm, watching as Luke did a bit of silent calculating while tapping a finger on the puzzle block.
A question came to mind then. Just why had Payton been so certain Luke knew about Archie? It was possible he could’ve offered those very words without any knowledge of the affair.
“Archie’s been cheating on me,” she blurted. Her heart did a miniature gallop as she waited for Luke’s response. Forget about easing into things …
Luke tapped his index finger exactly three more times before stopping, looking up at her, and arching a dark brow in question.
She nodded, wondering if he’d tell her he already knew.
“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled. The flecks in his eyes had changed. What were usually cool shades of silver and gray were now—in the light of the fire—warm and gold.
She shrugged, managed a weak laugh, then felt her chin quiver. No, Payton, don’t get emotional over it now. “I don’t know where the emotion is coming from. I’ve actually known since the day I came.”
The puzzle slipped from Luk
e’s grip and landed on the floor with a thud. He cleared his throat. “You have?”
“Yes.” She turned her face toward the fire, its warmth reaching her cheeks as she closed her eyes for a beat. “I found out just before I stepped onto the jet.”
“Whoa. That must’ve been rough. Does Jason know?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not even my parents know. Well, actually,” she said with another short, humorless laugh, “they know now. Everyone does, or at least will soon. There was a leak to the media.” She dropped her gaze to the wooden wedge, began tugging each peg out one by one. “So now my PR rep is waiting for me to make a statement, my parents are waiting for me to salvage things somehow, and the only guy who knows what I’m going to do about it is Archie.” She lifted her chin and gulped as she caught his gaze.
“What are you going to do?” His voice, though husky and low, carried sensitivity. The look in his eyes, that gorgeous blend of color, revealed more than mere hints of tenderness. There was a whole lot of something else too. Longing or desire? Maybe hopefulness about what she’d say.
“I broke off the engagement. Told him I didn’t want to marry him.”
“That’s … that’s too bad.” He scooted the slightest bit closer. “When did you do that?”
She held back a wry smile. “A few minutes ago.” The short answer came out shaky. Mainly because she wasn’t thinking about Archie; she was thinking about the man by her side. No matter how wrong or unhealthy it was to desire Luke, having just broken things off with her cheating, unloving fiancé who hadn’t even proposed to her, Payton couldn’t hold herself back.
The emotions that had surfaced over the last few days grew thick in the air. Their flirtatious words in the barn. The euphoria of his hands on her hips as he taught her to ride. Even the heated argument on the porch. A glorious symphony of everything they shared swirled around them at tornado speed—a force too powerful to ignore.
She needed this right now. Needed the assurance that she was wanted, the hope that just maybe, Luke Branson could live up to her impression of the man in that nightstand photo.
She reached out tentatively and let her fingers graze over his muscular arm as the galloping picked back up in her chest. The five-o’clock shadow he wore accented the perfect shape of his masculine jaw. It gave character to the small scar at his chin, reminding her that she now knew how he’d gotten that. She liked knowing things about him. Wanted to know more.
Luke scooted closer still, searching her face, and then extended a hand toward her as well. The slightly rough tips of his fingers slid around the outside of her arm, just beneath her sleeve.
Payton thought it felt good when she touched him, but this reached a whole new level. Especially when his fingers slid over the sensitive skin along her inner arm. Her gaze drifted to his full and inviting lips, a thrill of anticipation shooting through her as a question arose: After all that he knew about the details of her life, would he dare move in for a kiss?
Luke answered that question like she’d asked it aloud, slowly leaning in and closing the gap. He cupped her face, lowering his head until their lips barely touched in a soft, single kiss.
Yes.
She sighed as he came in again for a series of long, heated kisses, the gentle glide of his tongue urging her lips to part. She thought back to his mention of seven minutes of heaven. Payton hadn’t known how accurate that term was. But the kindled tension between them, the spell of bliss pouring through her, was exactly that.
Luke brought the kiss to a pause and tipped his head back, his smoldering gaze seeming to measure her response before moving in for more. This time his kiss was strong and certain. A low moan sounded from deep in his throat as he slid his fingers through the damp strands of her hair, adding to the bliss. Luke’s short stubble against her palm was a tease of its own.
Yes. Everything about this was right. And wonderful. So wonderful that she hadn’t paid attention to the distant close of a car door. She also tuned out the footsteps coming up the porch steps. But the sound of her brother’s voice—the words see you in the morning—brought them all into line.
Luke pulled away and looked at her with wide eyes. “Jason’s home.” He bolted to the chair he’d been sitting on when she came in and ran a hand over his short, dark hair.
The creaking of the storm door came next, followed by a jiggle and twist of the knob. The door swung open, and Jason stepped inside. He flicked on the lamp, closed the door behind him, and spun around. “Payton?”
She nodded, gulped, and smoothed a hand over the bottom of her nightshirt. “Hi,” she said, wondering if he could sense the frazzled state of her nerves or the passion that had lit up the room like dynamite only moments ago.
Luke, who was blocked by the back of the leather chair, went unnoticed.
Jason looked at the floor beside her, drawing attention to the two abandoned puzzles. The scene tipped him off enough to do a more thorough search of the area. “Luke?” he said, stepping farther into the room. He draped his thin jacket over the back of the couch.
Luke stood up and stretched. “Payton was just … trying to help me solve the puzzles Pete sent home with us,” he said through a yawn. “But I guess it’s getting pretty late.”
Payton’s heart raced as the three played a game of tag with their eyes in the low light. Jason broke from it by giving the clock a pointed look. “Yep, I’d say it’s officially late.”
The large clock on the wall—a slab of wood with an hour hand drilled into the center—said Jason was right. It was one thirty in the morning.
When Payton and Luke remained quiet, Jason shook his head and grinned. “Well, good night, you two. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Luke hollered. “We’re going to hit the sack too.”
Jason stepped into the kitchen, then peeked his head back into the room with arched brows. “Together?”
Luke snatched a lounge pillow and tossed it at Jason. Her brother dodged it with ease and laughed. “Night.”
She and Luke remained motionless until they heard the bathroom door close. The shower kicked on, and Payton sighed.
“Dang kid,” Luke mumbled. “Of course we’re hitting the sack together.” He shot her a wink. “Jason’s moving over to the bunkhouse soon, you know?”
Her eyes widened. “He is?”
Luke strode over to Payton and extended his hands to her. “That’s the plan.”
“Hmm.” Payton ran her gaze up the length of his tall, muscular form before reaching for his hand. Warm. Solid. Strong.
In one quick tug, he lifted her off the ground. The momentum continued once she was standing, sending Payton flush against his muscular chest. Luke wrapped his arms around her and gazed down as she lifted her chin. Beneath her hand, Luke’s heart thumped a hot, speeded rhythm.
“Just so you know,” Luke said, “Ross told me about the Archie thing at dinner. I figured I’d tell Jason about it, then let him tell you, but it turns out you’ve already known.”
She nodded, surprisingly unfazed by the forgotten topic. “Yeah, I’ll tell Jason about it tomorrow.”
Luke nodded, glanced at the dying embers before setting his gaze back on her. “Let’s, uh, do this again tomorrow night, shall we?”
Payton wondered exactly what he meant by that, but she nodded just the same. “Yes. We should keep trying until we get the puzzle solved.”
He grinned, the sight of it reaching a tender corner of her heart. A corner she hadn’t allowed herself to explore.
Luke brought a hand to the side of her face, ran a thumb along her forehead, then swept a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. When his fingers lingered there on her neck, she couldn’t help but envision how good it might feel for his lips to graze her throat in a moment of passion—something her failed relationship lacked.
“You’re beautiful, Payton,” he said, his voice low and husky. “And I don’t feel a bit bad for sampling that pretty mouth of yours tonight. That idiot doesn’t dese
rve you.”
Wow! She hadn’t expected that. The comment, along with Luke’s comforting embrace, made her feel exactly like she’d hoped he could.
Luke leaned in, slid his bottom lip along the bridge of her nose, then pressed a soft, longing kiss to her lips. A kiss that should lead to a whole lot more. “Good night, Payton,” he whispered against her mouth.
She managed a weak nod. “Tomorrow?”
One corner of his lips quirked. “Definitely.”
Chapter 17
When Luke had agreed to help prepare the old barn for the harvest party, he should’ve known he’d be doing the grunt work. Of course, as he shoveled stale straw out of dusty corners of the cement floor and hauled wheelbarrows full from the barn, he realized he probably wasn’t good for much more. At least not yet.
Once it was time to move in furniture and hang lights, he and Jason could help out with that as well. In the meantime, he hadn’t minded listening to Payton and Mom as they brainstormed ideas for the place. He hadn’t minded catching glimpses of the temptress as he went about his work either. Dressed once again in a pair of ripped jeans, tall boots, and a plaid shirt tied at the waist, Payton had given him side-glances and sly grins. They were sharing a tasty secret, and Luke couldn’t help but enjoy it.
He and Payton had spent time cozying up by the fire the last three nights in a row. Luke could honestly say he was becoming addicted to the taste of her kiss, the feel of her warm body close to his.
He might be getting in over his head, but Luke couldn’t get himself to care. Upon waking up this morning, he recalled movies he’d seen depicting characters fresh off a breakup. The smart ones had all sorts of discipline. “No, I can’t get involved with him. He’s on the rebound.” Or perhaps it was the other way around. “I could see myself falling for her one day, but I don’t want to hit her up while I’m on the rebound.”
And then there were the comical ones where the characters jumped into some rebound relationship and disaster struck, just like everyone expected.
Though Luke’s shoulders were high and tight with the load he carted out of the barn, his posture dropped. His family would think he was crazy to dream of a woman who’d barely broken off an engagement. Heck, anyone would. But then, who cared about what others thought? If he and Payton wanted to explore the chemistry between them, they could. They were full-grown adults.
This Cowboy's a Keeper (Unlikely Cowgirl Book 3) Page 11