Sometimes simple worked best.
Something soft whispered across his features and he patted her ass. “You’ve got a customer, babe.”
He’d sent the idiot on his way, knowing that he’d do exactly what he’d been told. Even if he thought he was following his own plan, he wasn’t. He’d been ridiculously easy to manipulate. All he required was a scene. A little drama played out in public forum would add another layer of suspicion on his target.
He adjusted his hat and surveyed the parking lot as he ambled through. Just another good ol’ boy out for a day at the flea market. The early morning rush ended and it wasn’t quite lunch time, so the traffic in and out slowed. He watched a young woman sit her little one into a stroller, load it up with baby crap and then she went on her way, leaving him alone.
One more pass and he decided it was likely his best chance. It only took a few seconds to unlock the truck. He opened the door and checked the glove box. It was empty, except for the usual paperwork and manuals.
He went to the center console, opened it, and found what he needed. It wasn’t his first choice, but it would suit his needs.
Too fucking easy.
He slipped it into his backpack, closed up the console and locked the truck. He looked around and, other than an aging, feeble man pulling an old wagon near the entrance, the lot was clear.
With a little luck, the item wouldn’t be missed for a couple of days.
It was more than he needed.
She looked up and swore. What is he doing here? Couldn’t she have one day of peace? Why was that too much to ask?
Preston stood near the first table in the farmer’s market and looked around. Seeing as he’d never stepped foot in any sort of outdoor market in his life, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he came to see her.
Dressed in expensive loafers, slacks and a button up shirt, he stood out like a sore thumb. But when he walked through the crowd, he didn’t come up to her as she’d expected. He headed straight for Mr. Peterman and his wagon.
Mr. Peterman came every weekend with his grandson, and they spent the day filling their wagon with junk. His junk collection neared hoarder proportions. He’d nearly filled his home and had begun to add his finds to the feed store. Today was no exception. He’d purchased a used television, and Trent had gone over to help him load it into the wagon.
Preston walked straight up to Trent and tapped him on the shoulder. Oh no. This had nightmare written all over it. Still in a crouch, Trent carefully set the television down and looked up. Recognition, irritation and disbelief flashed across his features. Even from her booth, she saw his eyes tighten. He nodded to Mr. Peterman and turned to face Preston.
“I heard you’ve been sleeping with my wife.” Preston’s voice was loud and obnoxious. He sounded drunk. He’d never been much of a drinker, and it was still early. Had he drank something to compensate for his lack of true courage?
Oh. Dear. God. What was wrong with Preston?
Trent arched a brow and looked down at her ex-husband. “Ex. She’s your ex-wife. She left you. She divorced you. What she and I are or are not doing in a bed or elsewhere is none of your concern. Anything she does stopped being your business the day she filed for divorce.”
Preston’s voice changed to a whine. “How do I know she wasn’t sleeping with you before she filed?”
“Man, what are you after? She’s made it clear, she wants nothing to do with you. You were a lucky man. You had her first, but you fucked it up. That’s all on you. I should thank you for being an idiot because it cleared the path for me to meet the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. But again, I repeat, what we do or don’t do is none of your business. Did you show up here with the intention of starting trouble? ‘Cause that’s what you’re doing, making an ass out of yourself.” Trent stared down at Preston, his handsome features marked by a frown of irritation.
When she realized Trent was right, Preston was likely here just to cause trouble, she expected Trent’s anger to go nuclear. But that moment when she’d forgotten that’s not who Trent was only lasted a bare second.
Trent had the air of a man extremely annoyed by a pesky fly. She saw none of the testosterone-frothing rage she’d dreaded.
That was all Preston. That was the life she’d come from and not where she was headed. Noticing the contrast in the two men sealed her fate. On one side, she saw her past and all the resulting pain and heartache. The cause for most of it stood there, in his expensive clothes, looking down on the world around him. She’d lay a small part of the blame at her own feet simply because she’d tolerated it for so long when she shouldn’t have.
On the other side stood a man in faded jeans and old boots who went out of his way to help an old man with a heavy television that would probably end up tucked into a corner of an already over-packed house. There was no doubt in her mind that later today Trent would get his hands dirty helping her clean up waterlogged trash at her house. Just the day before, at his ranch, she’d watched him patiently coax a skittish horse into a trailer using nothing but his soft voice and a great deal of time.
Night and day.
When she thought about her life, she realized she was happy. Or at least she had been until Preston arrived. She’d fought for her peace, and she would not stand by while he screwed it up. She was done with him and the headaches he caused.
She rounded her table and, before she knew it, stood between the two men. Her anger boiled white-hot as she pushed a finger into Preston’s chest and lit into him with all the pent up anger and hurt she’d stored over the years.
“You. Get out of my life. I’m done with you and the headache of having you in my past. You have no place in my world, none. Go away.” She stepped forward and pushed with her finger. In that moment, her finger had all the strength in the world and she was going to use it to crush Preston like a bug.
A strong arm wrapped around her ribs and a low voice spoke in her ear. “Kate, I’ve got this. I don’t need you to protect my virtue.” Was he smiling? He was smiling. She could hear the amusement in his voice.
“Why, I don’t know, but he came here to pick a fight with you. I won’t have it. I like you and I’m keeping you. He needs to get lost.”
“Kate, I don’t know what I ever saw in you. You’re nothing but white trash. Coming back to Riley Creek has made you lose your mind.” Filled with derision, Preston shook his head at her as if she had truly gone crazy. He turned and walked back the way he’d come.
She stared holes into his back until he disappeared from view. Then she realized what she’d done and what she’d said. Oh no. She never lost control and she never lost her poise or the smile that was everything.
She turned her no doubt bright red face to Trent and buried it in his broad chest.
“So. You’re keeping me, huh?” Laughter colored his voice.
“Oh God. I’m so sorry. I saw him and I got so mad. I just lost it. Pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“What if I liked what I heard?” His words were murmured low, as if he meant them for her alone.
“You did?”
“I did.” He kissed her lightly, but he didn’t hide the desire in his eyes, letting her know without words what was on his mind. Desire, electric and potent arced between them. “Crowd’s watching. Let’s get back to your berries.”
Trent disconnected his call with Rick and left his office. He found Kate in the kitchen washing more berries. Did the woman ever quit working? He doubted it. After spending half the day at the farmer’s market, they’d worked at her house then came back to his place. She’d insisted on seeing to Bonnie herself, even though his employees would have handled the task easily. Then she’d showered and fixed a quick meal for them both. After all that, she had enough energy to make fucking jam?
She was either the hardest working woman he’d ever known or crazy. Possibly both.
“Won’t those keep until tomorrow?” She really needed to give it rest for a bit.
“They
should be fine for a couple of days, I think. Why?” She’d turned on the radio as she worked, and he watched her hips sway in time to the music. The volume was low and her movement so subtle, he wasn’t sure she was aware she did it.
She wore a pair of pale blue pajama bottoms that had been washed so many times they hugged each curve and dip of her ass. He tried to focus on her words, but the sight of her heart-shaped cheeks snagged his attention.
“Trent?” She turned and caught him staring. Shit. Caught red-handed, there was no reason to hide it. He just grinned. “Does Rick have any news? I can only hold Joe back with vague answers for so long. Any day now, he’s going to show up demanding answers and to make sure you’re not holding me against my will. It won’t be pretty, especially if I don’t have something to give him.”
He wished he could do the same—just show up on the senator’s door and demand answers. It’d be so much easier, but he’d do anything to keep Kate safe, even go toe-to-toe with her overprotective cousin. He couldn’t say he blamed the man, though. Call him old-fashioned, but every woman should have someone in their corner watching out for them. The time might come when they’d have to tell Joe MacDonald what was happening, but they couldn’t take a single chance.
“Rick’s had someone digging into both Preston’s and Bailey’s finances. According to the reports, the good senator made a couple of large deposits to an offshore account. Rick’s guy is trying to find out who holds the account now.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.
“Exactly how much money is a large deposit?” She set a colander full of strawberries in the sink to drain and turned to face him.
“The first one was a hundred and fifty thousand. The last one was a quarter of a million dollars.”
“I didn’t think he was that wealthy. I mean, I know he lives comfortably and has some old family money, but that’s almost a half a million dollars. Wow. What could it be for?” She walked into his arms where she fit, as though she belonged there.
“I don’t know, but to me it reads as either paranoia or dirty dealings. Either one isn’t good.” He shook his head, wishing he had better news to share.
“You’re probably right. I don’t see him gifting the money to puppies or starving children.” A shudder passed through her shoulders, and he smoothed his hands over them.
“Why don’t you rest for a bit? Keeping up with you today has worn me out. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I am tired, but it’s a habit, now.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and he wondered if it was only habit like she said or something more. She seemed to have a near obsessive need to stay busy and work for everything she had. It was a trait he appreciated, even admired, but it could go too far.
“What are you making tonight?” Following the scent of berries, he moved closer. When she turned to him, her own vanilla scent mixed with the fruit, making his mouth water.
“Strawberries. I’ll be sad to see them go. They’re almost out of season now. Do you want one?” She selected one from the colander and took a bite. “These are sweeter than they are tart, which is great. I won’t have to add as much sugar.”
He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand to his mouth. Her attention shifted to him and her lips parted as he took a bite of the fruit in her hand. Sweet and juicy, the flavor melted over his tongue, but it wasn’t what he wanted.
They’d danced around each other for days, and he’d tired of it.
“It’s good, but I want something sweeter. Give me a taste, pretty Kate.” Not giving her time to object, he dipped to touch his mouth to hers. Lord, she was soft as she released a breathy little sigh.
But he wasn’t soft or sweet. His body had grown hard and hungry, starving for her. Unless she threw up a red light, he was taking what they both wanted.
For days she’d nearly tiptoed through the heavy, anticipatory air. They hadn’t spent much time together, but each time they’d crossed paths, the weight in the air tightened until she’d imagined she felt the press of it against her skin. Somehow, without words, it hadn’t become a question of would they or wouldn’t they address the issue of chemistry, but a matter of when.
Apparently, Trent decided enough was enough. He touched his mouth to hers, igniting a firestorm of desire. She opened, letting him take until she saw stars. The rough tips of his fingers grazed her cheeks as he tilted her head and sucked her bottom lip.
Lost in the storm, her hands searched for an anchor and gripped the waistband of his jeans. They curled, the backs of her fingers meeting the warm flesh of his abdomen. She toyed with the button of his jeans.
He touched his forehead to hers. “What do you say we give those legs of yours a test run?” She met the heat of his eyes where dark and turbulent desire simmered. Something snagged behind her heart, squeezed and blocked her breath.
Well, if she couldn’t speak or breathe then she might as well go back to kissing him, because the man could kiss. She tackled his mouth with hers, taking every bit as much as he’d taken from her and giving it all right back.
He gripped her hips in his hands and lifted, sitting her at his waist. The evidence of his arousal singed her through her thin pajamas, branding her with a fire she’d never forget.
The house moved by in a blur then they were in his room and on the bed, a tangle of limbs, heat, and desire. Lips, tongues, and teeth dueled in a passionate war where no one lost.
He pulled his mouth away and put his forehead against hers. His heart raced hers as he closed his eyes, appearing to give himself a moment to settle.
“I swear all it takes in one sweet little smile from you and my cock turns to steel. All I can think about is stripping you bare and sinking my teeth into you while every rational thought in my head flees. Let’s see if we can slow this down a bit. A body like yours needs to be savored.”
Slow down. Slow down? That was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to be pressed against him in a hot, bare, flesh to flesh clench. She wanted to succumb to the demanding, greedy inferno that threatened to claim them both. He felt the same as she did. She saw it in his eyes and heard it in his deep controlled breaths.
He stood, took the bottom of his T-shirt in both hands and pulled it up and over his head. Every ridge and shadowed hollow created by long days of work flexed. Taking in the sight, she forgot every thought. Fortunately, she didn’t need brains. She could simply lie there and stare at the view until the end of her days.
“Your turn.” His sexy half-smile turned her girl parts to liquid. The heat in her belly pooled, spread and engulfed her. “I showed you mine, now show me yours.”
Without giving her time to comply, he took matters into his own hands. He raised her shirt by placing his palms flat to her abdomen and sliding them up her torso, removing fabric as he went. Pleasure followed beneath his touch and grew like a wildfire engulfing every cell. Her shirt disappeared.
A slow, wandering finger trailed from her shoulder, over her collarbone then to the upper border of her bra. “Pretty, but it’s got to go.”
Tugging her upright, he crushed her to his chest, unfastened her bra and whispered into her ear. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed of seeing your breasts. I told myself repeatedly to stop, that you weren’t for me. Yet each night, when I closed my eyes, you insisted on haunting my bed.” His voice, filled with wicked promise, rumbled in her ear. “Show me.”
He laid her down and sat back, giving her a little space and waiting. Watching her, with those intense gray eyes. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been near or completely nude in front of others over the years, but right then with Trent, it mattered. She knew that her body was decent, but she wasn’t a twenty-something, perfect, pageant queen anymore. Somehow though, she knew that no matter what she revealed to him, he’d approve.
She slid the fabric shielding her breasts down her arms, baring herself. A hungry intensity sparked in the smoke of his gaze. As if they knew they were on display, her breasts grew t
ight, swelling and vying for his attention.
“Fucking perfect.” His hands skimmed up her belly, lighted over her ribs and cupped the mounds, thumbing her nipples. Her hips arched in reaction, seeking contact of their own. “Not yet. We’ll get there, but you hold still for now.” One hand moved down to cup between her legs and put her where he wanted her without words.
He took one tight nipple into his mouth, drawing hard. When her hips tried to buck in response, he held her with that one hand, his eyes never once leaving hers. Working her until she was dizzy, he moved from one breast to the other. Sucking and tormenting with the sweetest of tortures, he drove her to the peak of madness without pushing her over.
Trent drew away and finished stripping her. As if awed by the sight, he stood and paused. He wiped a hand over his mouth then unfastened his jeans. Already low on his cut hips, the denim dipped even lower revealing a faint, dark blond trail of hair. In one smooth move, he pushed the jeans and underwear down, baring his everything. And, damn was there a lot of everything to take in. Cut muscle from head to toe and the kind of equipment that made women swoon, he was perfection. His cock stood straight and ready. Long and thick, it drew her gaze and made her hunger.
He’d stolen her ability to speak.
He opened the bedside table, produced a condom and slipped it on. He returned to her, sinking into the bed and her.
“Legs, sweetheart. Let me have them. Since I first saw you in that barn, wearing a fancy dress and old mud boots, I’ve been dying to try them on for size.” Taking one ankle, he opened her and moved between her hips. He notched the head of his cock at her entrance and eased in, stretching her flesh with a delicious burn.
He met her mouth with his and kissed her until she saw stars. Then he moved. Once, twice, he eased in and out, rasping through her tightness. As if satisfied she was with him, he slammed home in a single plunge. He met her gaze with his, pressed a final passionate kiss to her lips and then let loose, driving in a steady, relentless pace. Again and again, he drove into her, each thrust a devastating pleasure-filled blow.
Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1 Page 16