“Annoying, isn’t it? How do people stand me?”
Her laugh sounded embarrassed and she tried to tug her hands away, but he held them fast, squeezing her fingers.
“No, I think it’s wonderful. I didn’t realize until right this moment how much I’ve missed that about you.”
She gazed up at him, her eyes that lovely columbine-blue and her mouth slightly parted. Her fingers trembled again in his and he was aware of the scent of her, flowery and sweet, and of the sudden tension tightening between them.
He wanted to kiss her as he couldn’t remember wanting anything in his life, except maybe the first time he had kissed her on the mountainside so many years ago.
If he followed through on the fierce hunger curling through him, she would just think he was being the player the whole town seemed to think he was, taking advantage of a situation just because he could.
Right now she didn’t even like him very much. Better to just bide his time, give her a chance to come to know him again and trust him.
Yeah, that would be the wise, cautious thing to do. But as her hands trembled in his, he knew with a grim sort of resignation that he couldn’t be wise or cautious. Not when it came to Laura.
As everything inside him tightened with anticipation, he tugged her toward him and lowered his mouth to hers.
Magic. Simply delicious. She had the softest, sweetest mouth and he couldn’t believe he had forgotten how perfectly she fit against him.
Oh, he had missed her, missed this.
For about ten seconds, she didn’t move anything except her fingers, now curled in his, while his mouth touched and tasted hers. For those ten seconds, he waited for her to push him away. She remained still except for her hands, and then, as if she had come to some internal decision—or maybe just resisted as long as she could—she returned the kiss, her mouth warm and soft and willing.
That was all the signal he needed to deepen the kiss. In an instant, need thundered through him and he released her hands and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, intoxicated by her body pressed against him.
She felt wonderfully familiar but not quite the same, perhaps a little curvier than she’d been back when she had been his. He supposed two children and a decade could do that. He tightened his arms around her, very much appreciating the difference as her curves brushed against his chest.
She made a low sound in her throat and her arms slipped around his neck and he did what he had imagined earlier, pressed her back against the wall.
She kissed him back and he knew he didn’t imagine the hitch in her breathing, the rapid heartbeat he could feel beneath his fingers.
This. This was what he wanted. Laura, right here.
All the aimless wandering of the past ten years had finally found a purpose, here in the arms of this woman. He wanted her and her children in his life. No, it was more than just a whim. He needed them. He pictured laughter and joy, rides into the mountains, winter nights spent cuddling by the fireplace of the log home he was building.
For her. He was building it for her and he had never realized it until this moment. Every fixture, every detail had been aimed at creating the home they had always talked about building together.
That didn’t make sense. It was completely crazy. Yeah, he’d heard her husband died some months back and had grieved for the pain she must have been feeling, but he hadn’t even known she was coming home until he showed up to fight the fire at the inn and found her there.
He had thought he was just building the house he wanted, but now he could see just how perfectly she and her children would fit there.
Okay, slow down, Bowman, he told himself. One kiss did not equal happy ever after. He had hurt her deeply by pushing her away so readily after his parents died and it was going take more than just a few heated embraces to work past that.
He didn’t care. He had always craved a challenge, whether that was climbing a mountain, kayaking rapids or conquering an out-of-control wildfire. He had been stupid enough to let her go once. He damn well wasn’t going to do it again.
She made another low sound in her throat and he remembered how very sexy he used to find those little noises she made. Her tongue slid along his, erotic and inviting, and heat scorched through him, raw and hungry.
He was just trying to figure out how to move this somewhere a little more comfortable than against the wall of the hallway when the sound of the door opening suddenly pierced his subconscious.
A moment later, he heard his sister’s voice from the entry at the other side of the house.
“We’ve got to go look for them.” Caidy sounded stressed and almost frantic. “I can’t believe Taft didn’t make it back before the rain hit. What if something’s happened to them?”
“He’ll take care of them. Don’t worry about it,” Ridge replied in that calm way of his.
They would be here any second, he realized. Even though it was just about the toughest thing he’d ever done—besides standing by and letting her walk out of his life ten years ago—he eased away from her.
She looked flustered, pink, aroused. Beautiful.
He cleared his throat. “Laura,” he started to say, but whatever thoughts jumbled around in his head didn’t make it to words before his siblings walked down the hall and the moment was gone.
“Oh!” Caidy pedaled to a stop when she saw them. Her gaze swiveled between him and Laura and then back to him. Her eyes narrowed and he squirmed at the accusatory look in them, as if he was some sort of feudal lord having his way with the prettiest peasant. Yeah, he had kissed her, but she hadn’t exactly put up any objections.
“You made it back safely.”
“Yes.”
Laura’s voice came out husky, thready. She cleared it. Her cheeks were rosy and she refused to meet his gaze. “Yes. Safe but not quite dry. On our way down, we were caught in the first few minutes of the rainstorm. Taft loaned me some of your clothes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, of course! You can keep them, for heaven’s sake. What about the kids? Are they okay?”
“More than okay.” Her smile seemed strained, but he wasn’t sure anyone but him could tell. “This was the most exciting thing that has happened to them since we’ve been back in Pine Gulch—and that’s saying something, considering Alex started a fire that had four ladder trucks responding. They were so thrilled by the whole day that they were both exhausted and fell asleep watching cartoons while we have been waiting for our clothes to run through the dryer—which is silly, by the way. We could have been home in fifteen minutes, but Taft wouldn’t let us leave in our wet gear.”
“Wise man.” Ridge spoke up for the first time. His brother gave him a searching look very much like Caidy’s before turning back to her. “Great to see you again, Laura.”
Ridge stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, and she responded with a warm smile she still hadn’t given Taft.
“Welcome back to Pine Gulch. How are you settling in?”
“Good. Being home again is…an adventure.”
“How’s the dog?” Taft asked.
“Lucky. Looks like only a broken leg,” Caidy said. “Doc Harris hurried back from a meeting in Pocatello so he could set it. He’s keeping him overnight for observation.”
“Good man, that Doc Harris.”
“I know. I don’t know what we’re all going to do when he finally retires.”
“You’ll have to find another vet to keep on speed dial,” Taft teased.
Caidy made a face at him, then turned back to Laura. “You and the kids will stay for dinner, won’t you? I can throw soup and biscuits on and have it ready in half an hour.”
As much as he wanted her to agree, he knew—even before she said the words—exactly how she would answer.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I’m afraid I’m covering the front-desk shift this evening. I’m sorry. In fact, I should really be going. I’m sure our clothes are dry by now. Perhaps another time?”
<
br /> “Yes, definitely. Let me go check on your clothes.”
“I can do it,” Laura protested, but Caidy was faster, probably because she had grown up in a family of boys where you had to move quick if you wanted the last piece of pie or a second helping of potato salad.
Ridge and Laura talked about the inn and her plans for renovating it for the few moments it took for Caidy to return from the laundry room off the kitchen with her arms full of clothing.
“Here you go. Nice and dry.”
“Great. I’ll go wake up my kids and then we can get out of your way.”
“You’re not in our way. I promise. I’m so glad you could come out to the ranch. I’m only sorry I wasn’t here for the ride, since I was the one who invited you. I’m not usually so rude.”
“It wasn’t rude,” Laura protested. “You were helping a wounded dog. That’s more important than a little ride we could have done anytime.”
Caidy opened the door to the media room. Laura gave him one more emotion-charged look before following his sister, leaving Taft alone with Ridge.
His brother studied him for a long moment, reminding Taft uncomfortably of their father when he and Trace found themselves in some scrape or other.
“Be careful there, brother,” Ridge finally said.
He was thirty-four years old and wasn’t at all in the mood for a lecture from an older brother who tended to think he was the boss of the world. “About?”
“I’ve got eyes. I can tell when a woman’s just been kissed.”
He was really not in the mood to talk about Laura with Ridge. As much as he respected his brother for stepping up and taking care of both Caidy and the ranch after their parents died, Ridge was not their father and he didn’t have to answer to the man.
“What’s your point?” he asked, more belligerently than he probably should have.
Ridge frowned. “You sure you know what you’re doing, dredging everything up again with Laura?”
If I figure that out, I’ll be sure to let you know. “All I did was take her and her kids for a horseback ride.”
Ridge was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you all those years ago, why you didn’t end up walking down the aisle when everybody could tell the two of you were crazy in love.”
“Does it matter? It’s ancient history.”
“Not that ancient. Ten years. And take it from an expert, the choices we make in the past can haunt us for the rest of our lives.”
Ridge should definitely know that. He had married a woman completely unsuitable for ranch life who had ended up making everybody around her miserable, too.
“Given your track record with women in the years since,” Ridge went on, “I’m willing to bet you’re the one who ended things. You didn’t waste much time being heartbroken over the end of your engagement.”
That shows what you know, he thought. “It was a mutual decision,” he lied for the umpteenth time.
“If I remember right, you picked up with that Turner woman just a week or two after Laura left town. And then Sonia Gallegos a few weeks after that.”
Yeah, he remembered those bleak days after she left, the gaping emptiness he had tried—and failed—to fill, when he had wanted nothing but to chase after her, drag her home and keep her where she belonged, with him.
“What’s your point, Ridge?”
“This goes without saying—”
“Yet you’re going to say it anyway.”
“Damn straight. Laura isn’t one of your Bandito bimbos. She’s a decent person with a couple of kids, including one with challenges. Keep in mind she lost her husband recently. The last thing she probably needs is you messing with her head and heart again when she’s trying to build a life here.”
Like his favorite fishing knife, his brother’s words seemed to slice right to the bone.
He wanted her fiercely—but just because he wanted something didn’t mean he automatically deserved it. He’d learned that lesson young when his mother used to make him and Trace take out the garbage or change out a load of laundry if they wanted an extra cookie before dinner.
If he wanted another chance with her after the way he had treated her—and damn it, he did—he was going to have to earn his way back. He didn’t know how yet. He only knew he planned to work like hell to become the kind of man he should have been
ten years ago.
Chapter Eight
Laura was going to kill him. Severely.
Five days after going riding with her and her kids above River Bow, Taft set down the big bag of supplies his sister had given him onto the concrete, then shifted the bundle into his left arm so he could use his right arm to wield his key card, the only way after hours to enter the side door of the inn closest to his room.
“Almost there, buddy,” he said when the bundle whimpered.
He swiped the card, waiting for the little light to turn green, but it stayed stubbornly red. Too fast? Too slow? He hated these things. He tried it again, but the blasted light still didn’t budge off red.
Apparently either the key code wasn’t working anymore or his card had somehow become demagnetized.
Shoot. Of all the nights to have trouble, when he literally had his hands full.
“Sorry, buddy. Hang on a bit more and we’ll get you settled inside. I promise.”
The little brown-and-black corgi-beagle mix perked his ginormous ears at him and gave him a quizzical look.
He tried a couple more times in the vain hope that five or six times was the charm, then gave up, accepting the inevitable trip to the lobby. He glanced at his watch. Eleven thirty-five. The front desk closed at midnight. Barring an unforeseen catastrophe between here and the front door, he should be okay.
He shoved the dog food and mat away from the door in case somebody else had better luck with their key card and needed to get through, then carried the dog around the side of the darkened inn.
The night was cool, as spring nights tended to be in the mountains, and he tucked the little dog under his jacket. The air was sweet with the scent of the flowers Laura had planted and new growth on the trees that lined the Cold Creek here.
On the way, he passed the sign he had noticed before that said Pets Welcome.
Yeah. He really, really hoped they meant it.
The property was quiet, as he might have expected. Judging by the few cars behind him in the parking lot, only about half the rooms at the inn were occupied. He hadn’t seen any other guests for a couple of days in his wing of the hotel, which he could only consider a good thing, given the circumstances—though he doubted Laura would agree.
At least his room was close to the side door in case he had to make any emergency trips outside with the injured dog his sister had somehow conned him into babysitting. He had to consider that another thing to add to the win column.
Was Laura working the front desk? She did sometimes, probably after her children were asleep. In the few weeks he’d been living at the inn, most of the time one of the college students Mrs. Pendleton hired was working the front desk on the late shift, usually a flirtatious coed he tried really hard to discourage.
He wasn’t sure whether he hoped to find Laura working or would prefer to avoid her a little longer. Not that he’d been avoiding her on purpose. He had been working crazy hours the past few days and hadn’t been around the inn much.
He hadn’t seen her since the other afternoon, when she had melted in his arms, although she hadn’t been far from his mind. Discovering he wanted her back in his life had been more than a little unsettling.
The lobby of the inn had seen major changes in the few weeks since Laura arrived. Through the front windows he could see that the froufrou couches and chairs that used to form a conversation pit of sorts had been replaced by a half-dozen tables and chairs, probably for the breakfast service he’d been hearing about.
Fresh flower arrangements gave a bright, springlike feeling to the place—probably Laura’s
doing, as well.
When he opened the front door, he immediately spotted a honey-blond head bent over a computer and warmth seeped through him. He had missed her. Silly, when it had been only four days, but there it was.
The dog in his arms whimpered a little. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor and all that, he wrapped his coat a little more snuggly around the dog. No sense riling her before she needed to be riled.
He wasn’t technically doing anything wrong—pets were welcome after all, at least according to the sign, but somehow he had a feeling normal inn rules didn’t apply to him.
He warily approached her and as she sensed him, she looked up from the computer with a ready smile. At the sight of him, her smile slid away and he felt a pang in his gut.
“Oh. Hi.”
He shifted Lucky Lou a little lower in his arm. “Uh, hi. Sorry to bug you, but either my key card isn’t working or the side door lock is having trouble. I tried to come in that way, but I couldn’t get the green light.”
“No problem. I can reprogram your card.”
Her voice was stiff, formal. Had that stunning kiss ruined even the friendship he had been trying to rekindle?
“I like the furniture,” he said.
“Thanks. It was just delivered today. I’m pleased with the colors. We should be ready to start serving breakfast by early next week.”
“That will be a nice touch for your guests.”
“I think so.”
He hated that they had reverted back to polite small talk. They used to share everything with each other and he missed it.
The bundle under his jacket squirmed a little and she eyed him with curiosity.
“Uh, here’s my key,” he said, handing it over.
She slid it across the little doohickey card reader and handed it back to him. “That should work now, but let me know if you have more trouble.”
“Okay. Thanks. Good night.”
“Same to you,” she answered. He started to turn and leave just as Lou gave a small, polite yip and peeked his head out of the jacket, his mega-size ears cocked with interest.
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