Coming from another woman he might’ve assumed she was fishing. But not Shea. Jesse thought for a moment about how much he wanted to reveal. “I know what folks think, Shea. They’re wrong. Though I haven’t found any need to correct them. Around here, once folks take something into their heads...” He shrugged.
“You don’t think the war changed you?”
“I’m sure it has to some degree. Killing is an ugly and senseless business. Even if it’s not in your face, you understand the reason why you’re carrying a rifle real quick.” He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Calling back memories never turned out well. “It would be naive of me to think that my views and opinions haven’t been altered. But basically I’m the same man who was shipped to boot camp.”
“What are people seeing, Jesse? Do you think they assumed you’d changed because it was expected?” When he didn’t answer, her body tensed against him. “I don’t mean to pry. I really don’t. I want to understand, but you don’t have to tell me anything.”
He hugged her, burying his face in her hair for a moment. It was crazy, his sudden yearning to unload. Why her? Sure, they didn’t know each other well so she was safe. But so was Noah, he’d served in the army and had a much better understanding of what Jesse had gone through.
Except his restlessness had nothing to do with the air force or Afghanistan. And if he told her the truth, that he couldn’t seem to find a place here anymore, that he felt irrelevant, she’d never understand. She might even think he was a stupid self-absorbed bastard who couldn’t appreciate a family who loved him. That they cared deeply about him wasn’t in question. He knew that. But it was hard to explain, this weird sense of not belonging anywhere.
Still, he didn’t want to cut off Shea, let her think that tonight had been only about sex. He truly felt something for her. Couldn’t name it precisely, but the fact was he’d been happier in the past twenty-four hours than he’d been in years.
He smiled. Ironic he’d finally found a slice of peace and contentment in this broken-down shack. He kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose.
She eagerly offered him her lips.
He parted them with his tongue and thoroughly explored her mouth. She drew her hand down his belly, and he knew he could easily distract her if he wanted.
Instead he caught her wrist and forced her to retrace her path up to his chest, then he kissed her palm. “First,” he said, taking a deep fortifying breath and praying he wouldn’t regret this, “we’re going to finish talking.”
14
SHEA FERVENTLY WISHED she could see his face more clearly in the obscured glow of the lantern. She knew when he smiled because of the flash of his white teeth, or when he stared at the ceiling. The way the light fell, he could probably see her a lot better, which was absolutely unfair since she had enough trouble picking up social cues. But there was one thing about which she was certain. He wasn’t as tense as before. His body was more relaxed, his heartbeat no longer pounding against her ear.
“You get to choose the topic,” she said, hoping to keep the mood nice and easy between them. He clearly didn’t like talking about himself, and she didn’t blame him a bit. She’d surprised herself at her own chattiness. Not like her at all.
“I’m going to tell you something that I want kept between us,” he said, lightly squeezing her hand.
She nodded, then said, “All right,” to make sure he knew she understood.
“If I’ve changed, it’s not about the air force or going to Afghanistan. Joining the service turned out to be the right decision for me, even though me joining up was kind of expected. It’s what McAllister men have done for generations. Not Cole—turned out he was allergic to the uniform. It’s kind of a funny story...maybe I’ll tell you later....
“Anyway, I was a junior in college over in Billings when my father passed away. He’d been battling cancer for a year. We knew it was coming but I guess you’re never really prepared.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it was hard, especially for Mom and Rachel.” He let out a short laugh. “Hell, it was tough on all of us. Cole had just turned twenty-one and being the eldest son the responsibility of the ranch was passed to him. Rachel and Trace were young, both of them still in high school. And Mom...” He shook his head. “She was so overcome with grief we didn’t know what to do about her.... Good thing she had two teenagers who needed looking after.
“Of course, I came home as soon as I got the phone call. I was here most weekends, anyway—that’s why I chose a college in Billings. After the funeral I told Mom and Cole I wasn’t going back to school, that I’d drop out, stay and help run the Sundance. They wouldn’t hear of it. Mom cried, said that’s not what my father would’ve wanted. Cole got up in my face and accused me of not having faith in him to run things.” Jesse inhaled a deep breath. “It wasn’t like that.... I wanted to help, yet I’d never felt more helpless in my life.”
Shea sensed his pain despite his modulated tone. He hadn’t stopped stroking her back, and though it felt wonderful, she understood his need for the repetitive movement. “Cole was probably feeling helpless, too, don’t you think? I mean twenty-one is still young to be handed so much responsibility. Just because I had a high IQ everyone seemed to think I was supposed to know everything. The expectations were unrealistic, but that didn’t mean their disappointment didn’t hurt.”
“That must have been tough. What is your IQ, anyway?”
“Uh-uh.” She never told anyone anymore. “We were talking about you.”
“That high, huh?”
She gave his nipple a light twist, and he jumped. “What happened when you returned to school?”
“Nothing.” He shoved her hand out of harm’s way. “I managed to survive the semester. My grades slipped but I didn’t care much.”
“You were still grieving. Did you have someone there, a buddy or girlfriend?”
“Yeah, actually, I’d started going out with someone a few weeks before my dad passed away. Another student a year behind me. We met at a football game when I spilled my beer on her.”
“Nice.”
Jesse smiled. “Chelsea was great. Smart, good sense of humor. Got a job as a marketing rep in San Francisco after graduate school. Who knows where she is now.”
“What happened? Were you ever serious?” Shea curbed her urge to pepper him with questions and let him answer without interruption. It wasn’t easy, though.
“Honestly, I thought we were for a while, but she didn’t like that I joined the air force. Initially I would’ve been out by the time she finished graduate school.” He breathed in deeply. “I was in Afghanistan when I got her letter. Said she was moving on. I didn’t blame her.”
“I’m sorry.” Shea wasn’t curious about her anymore. She didn’t like her, period.
“I didn’t take it as hard as I should’ve, which meant she was right. There was no future for us.”
“No, I can’t see you living in San Francisco. I can’t imagine you anywhere but here.” Shea felt him tense.
He stopped rubbing her back and stretched both arms over his head. “No more useless talk about the past,” he said casually, but she wasn’t fooled. Something was bothering him.
The thing was, she couldn’t figure out what she’d said to cause him to withdraw. Was he thinking about his old girlfriend? Did he regret their breakup? What a depressing thought. “Have you talked to her since you were discharged?”
“Who?”
“Chelsea.”
“Oh, no. There wasn’t anything to say.” He brought his arms back around Shea. “You want to talk about your old boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Okay, then.” He bit her earlobe, then dragged his lips down the side of her neck. “Enough talk. More action.”
Shea tried to laugh it off, but his body had already coiled with a different kind of tension, and she lifted herself up to brace her hands against his shoulders and keep him at bay.
&n
bsp; The move didn’t stop him. He flipped her onto her back, grasped both her wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, pinning them to the sleeping bag. She automatically arched her breasts against him.
“Talk about going from zero to sixty,” she said, breathless, still appalled that she could be this quickly turned on. It felt like someone else’s body, not hers.
“Complaining?” He bent his head to suck a nipple into his mouth and his free hand slipped between her thighs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He leisurely used his tongue to tease her already stiff nipple. “Really?” he asked with amusement as he moved to her other breast. “You need an explanation?”
She shuddered when his mouth made contact again. He had quite a tight hold of her wrists, and it was utterly shocking how much she liked it.
His fingers dipped into her folds and she could feel his arousal hot and pulsing against her outer thigh.
“You’re using sex to shut me up,” she said while she could still think.
He paused for a second. “Yes. Problem?”
Want and need burned low in her belly. “I can live with that,” she murmured, then gasped when he pushed his finger in all the way.
* * *
JESSE WOKE WITH A cramp in his shoulder. He hated to move and risk disturbing Shea. She was still sound asleep, her warm soft body tucked against him, her tangled hair a quarter inch away from tickling his nose.
The lantern had burned down and he suspected they had little more than smoldering ashes left in the stove, but between the blanket and practically staying glued together they’d managed to keep sufficiently warm.
Stretching his neck to the side seemed to help relieve the kink in his shoulder. She didn’t stir. She had to be exhausted. He sure as hell felt as if he’d been hauling hundred-pound hay bales. Generally he tried to keep himself in good shape but last night...
He shot a look at the door. It was morning. Still early, judging by the pinkish light seeping under the door. But if he didn’t get up and use the radio soon, it wouldn’t be long before Cole brought out the hounds. Jesse wouldn’t blame him—if the situation were reversed, he’d have loaded the snowmobiles before first light.
Crap. That was exactly what Cole had done, he just knew it, and Jesse had damn well better be prepared for the cavalry to descend.
He tried to angle his arm on the off chance he’d be able to see his watch and not wake Shea. It was still too dark no matter how hard he squinted. Maybe he was wrong about the sun being up. He inhaled her sweet musky scent. They both smelled like sex. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind being stranded for another day or so.
Of course that would leave too much time for more talking. He’d never been an open book, didn’t see the need, and yet he’d told Shea so much. He wasn’t sure why he’d let down his guard like that. Maybe because she’d be leaving soon.
No, it wasn’t that. In her own way, Shea understood him more than almost anyone. Her questions might be blunt, but they were also right on point, and the woman didn’t give an inch. Strange how much he liked that. Liked her. Which didn’t change the fact that there was still no place for him here, and he still hadn’t come up with a better solution than reenlisting.
He looked at her sleeping, so pretty and soft. He’d miss her.
The thought ate at him more than it should have. It was just sex, he reminded himself. For both of them. She was leaving two days after Christmas. Until then it would be fun. They’d spend time together. As long as he was on the ground, he’d probably go help out at Safe Haven.
If he was called away then...damn, the idea really sucked. Christmas was in what...three days? Last week he would’ve welcomed the excuse to get out of Blackfoot Falls. And now?
Shea moaned softly and rubbed her silky cheek against his shoulder.
He didn’t move, waiting to see if she was awake or not. Her slow, even breath warmed his skin. She was still asleep, but he’d have to rouse her soon. Real soon, since he had no clue as to the time. He stretched out his neck again, relieving more of the pressure. What a dumbass. He should just get up. Check outside, check the fire. If he disturbed her, she’d go back to sleep.
“Jesse?” she murmured groggily, bringing a small fist up to her face.
He touched her hair. “Yeah?” he said, and felt her slow smile draw across his flesh.
“It wasn’t a dream.”
“What?”
“Us.” She opened her hand and laid her palm on his chest. “Last night.”
“Best dream I ever had if it was.”
“You’re sweet.”
He grinned. “Think so? Even when I tell you we have to get up?”
She skimmed her hand to his belly. “You sure about that?”
Damned if his poor tired cock didn’t twitch. “There’s a term for women like you.”
“I am not...” She lifted her head. “Okay, maybe a little. But only with you.”
Oh, boy. He had to think about that one. Or maybe he shouldn’t. He cleared his throat. “All kidding aside, I have to find out what time it is. We don’t want to be caught with our pants down, so to speak.”
She giggled, but quickly sobered. “No, that would be bad.” She sat up and twisted toward the door.
More dawn light was seeping in. He vaguely considered how the door faced northeast, which meant the sun had to be pretty high, but he was more interested in the silhouette of her breasts now that he could see her more clearly. He traced her puckered nipple.
Shea froze. “Did you hear that? Sounded like a motor or engine.”
Abruptly he pushed to his feet.
“Maybe it was my imagination.”
He hadn’t heard anything but he’d been preoccupied. “Stay here,” he said, grabbing his Levi’s and yanking them on, not bothering with underwear, thermals or the zipper.
At the door he stopped and listened. Still nothing. Maybe it was the mare growing impatient. The second he opened the door he heard voices.
Shit.
Barefooted, bare-chested, he stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind him. Cole and Trace were approaching the shack. They stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him as if he’d grown a pair of horns.
“Everything okay?” Cole asked, frowning at the door, and then at Jesse’s chest and feet.
“Fine. We’re good.” Jesse glanced past them at the snowmobiles they’d left parked near where the trail had been covered with snow. “Anybody else with you?”
Cole shook his head, his expression of confusion transforming into amusement.
“Stay here.” Shivering from the frosty air, Jesse backed up. “Don’t come inside.”
Trace’s face lit with a grin the size of the whole state of Montana. By the time Jesse opened the door a crack, his brother was laughing. “I’d expected you to be a little happier to see us.”
Cursing under his breath, Jesse yanked the door closed again and pinned them with a warning glare. “Shut up,” he said irritably. “Both of you.”
Cole shrugged and drew his lips together in a tight line, but his shoulders started to shake with silent laughter.
Jesse swore again and entered the shack. Then he stuck his head outside one last time. “Dammit, I mean it.”
* * *
AFTER SHEA DRIED her hair and pulled on thermals and the thickest sweater she owned, she lingered at her bedroom window holding open the curtain and staring outside. Snow blanketed the ranch and all the land up to the foothills where Jesse had taken her that second day. Sun, blue sky, such a beautiful, peaceful scene made it hard to believe a storm had blown through.
With little enthusiasm for going downstairs, she released the curtain and let it fall into place. The ride back with Cole and Trace had been embarrassing enough, now she had to face Mrs. McAllister, Rachel and Jamie.
Of course, Jesse’s brothers had said nothing inappropriate. They’d seemed genuinely concerned about her welfare. But they had to know what had happened b
etween her and Jesse. Well, not the details, or that the earth had actually moved last night, but in a general sense they knew something had changed.
Funny, a few days ago it wouldn’t have crossed her mind that anyone would think anything of them spending the night together. But now...after what they’d shared...after how he’d learned her body better than she understood it herself...
God, already she missed him. Even the steaming hot shower she’d taken hadn’t erased his smell from her skin. She wondered where he was at this very minute. Still in the shower? Taking a nap? In the kitchen drinking coffee?
Darn it, she’d have to leave her room to find out.
The women were in the kitchen when she went downstairs. She’d seen them briefly when she arrived and was instructed to head straight for the shower and warm clothes.
“What can I get you?” Mrs. McAllister asked the second she spotted Shea. “Coffee, hot chocolate, tea?”
Rachel stood at the stove, but at her mother’s voice she abruptly turned, her anxious gaze sizing Shea up from head to toe. “I’m frying bacon, but we also have ham and sausage and the biscuits are in the oven. How do you like your eggs? I make a mean veggie-and-cheese omelet.”
“For heaven’s sake, would you let her answer me?” Mrs. McAllister pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. “I know you drink coffee but we’re stocked with the aforementioned.”
“Coffee sounds really good.” Shea hesitated, eyeing the coffeemaker sitting to the right of the modern cook-top stove. Marked stainless-steel canisters of flour and sugar and platters of meat crowded the beautiful pearl-gray granite countertops. “I can pour it myself.”
“So can I. Please sit.”
Shea meekly did as she was told, murmuring, “Thank you, Mrs. McAllister.”
“You have to call me Barbara. Everyone does.” She looked pretty and youthful with her auburn hair pulled back into a French braid. Setting the steaming mug in front of Shea, she said, “You drink it black, right?”
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