“I’m a specialist accountant. I help untangle messes, follow the money. That sort of thing.”
Sierra remembered the things Garret had told her about his father’s business dealings. Clearly Mae had been brought in to help Garret get on top of the situation but was being super discreet about it.
“Do you love it?” Sierra asked.
“Are you asking if I’m still a massive nerd?” Mae asked with a laugh.
“I thought geek was the preferred term these days?”
“Either way, the answer is yes. I like solving problems and tracking things down. How about you? How long have you been flying? I have to admit, I always imagined you working on the ranch with you brothers. Which is probably dumb.”
“Actually, you’re not far wrong . . .” Sierra filled Mae in on her recent history, then answered her questions about Jesse and Casey and the ranch. All the while, they both avoided talking about the cowboy in the room: Jed.
Finally Mae smiled and titled her head. “And how’s Jed? Is he well?”
Sierra hesitated, unsure how to respond. Health-wise, Jed was well. But there was no denying he’d lost a part of himself when he’d given Mae up. Sierra couldn’t just blurt that out, though. For starters, Jed would flip out if he ever learned she’d exposed him like that, and Mae was getting married to another guy. She didn’t need or want to be dragged back into the past.
“He’s good. We’ve had a few problems at the ranch, so he’s been a bit stressed, handling all that. But things are improving now, so . . .” Sierra shrugged.
Mae nodded. “Well . . . good.”
Sierra could feel that Mae had more questions, and she made an educated guess what they might be. “He’s single. Claims he’s too busy to date.”
Sierra watched in fascination as color crept up Mae’s chest and into her face.
“Hey, none of that is any of my business,” Mae said. “Although I want him to be happy, obviously. Like I am. It would be nice for him to find someone. I always thought he’d make a great husband.”
“He’s been an amazing stand-in for Mom and Dad over the years,” Sierra agreed.
Mae stood and adjusted the front of her suit jacket. “I should go. But thanks for catching up with me. It’s good to know you’re all doing so well. I’ll keep an ear out for Casey’s songs on the radio.”
Sierra stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the other woman, giving her the hug she’d never had the chance to give her thirteen years ago. “I’m really sorry we never got to say goodbye properly. Everything was so messed up back then, but I want you to know we all missed you so much. Especially Jed. It was just a really horrible situation.”
Mae’s arms were tight around her, and Sierra felt her suck in a shaky breath.
“Thank you. That’s really nice to hear. I missed you guys too. Mom used to keep me updated. But then I asked her to stop.” Mae gave a wry, self-deprecating smile as they stepped back from their embrace.
“Can I grab your number? Maybe we could have coffee or lunch sometime?” Sierra asked.
“I’d love that.”
They exchanged numbers, then Sierra walked Mae to the front door.
“Before I go . . . I don’t know how well you and Garret know each other, but he’s had some shitty news tonight . . .”
Sierra understood what she was asking. “I’ll check on him. Thanks.”
Mae smiled, then gave her a final hug. Sierra watched her walk to her shiny Mercedes and waited until she’d driven down the drive before closing the door.
She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then she went in search of Garret.
She found him in the study, nursing a glass of whiskey, his face gray. He glanced across at her when he registered her standing there, and the bleak flatness behind his eyes made her take an involuntary step forward.
“Are you okay?”
It took him a moment to respond. “Sure. Mae gone?”
“Yes.” She frowned at him, not sure what to do. She’d never seen him like this, tight and closed off. What exactly was the shitty news Mae had just delivered?
“It’s okay, Sierra,” Garret said, reading her concern.
“Is it? You look like someone just died.”
He smiled, although it was more like a show of teeth. “Yeah, well.”
He tossed back the last of his whiskey and stood, dropping the heavy crystal glass onto the side table with a noisy thunk. He went to the desk where his briefcase lay on its side and pulled out his laptop. When she didn’t move or say anything, he glanced at her. “Did you want something?”
Sierra debated whether she should push the issue, then decided against it. If he didn’t want to confide in her, that was his business. Just because they’d slept together didn’t change the essential nature of their relationship.
“I’m ordering dinner. What would you prefer, pizza or Chinese?” she asked instead.
“I don’t want anything. But thanks for asking.”
Sierra’s gaze went to the whiskey bottle sitting on the side board. Without saying a word, she turned on her heel and made her way to the kitchen. Sitting on a stool, she called up the menu for the Chinese place on her phone and put through an order for way too much food.
Then she helped herself to one of the beers she’d bought last week and killed time checking out the news headlines on her phone until the doorbell rang. She took delivery of two bulging bags’ worth of food and ferried them to the kitchen. She piled two bowls high, then tucked a bottle of soda water under her arm, picked up the bowls, and made her way to the study.
Garret was sitting behind the desk, tapping away at his computer at an almost violent pace. Sierra slid one of the bowls in front him, and he stopped working to glance at her.
“What’s this?” he asked tersely.
Sierra calmly sat on the corner of the desk and dug into her own bowl. “Dinner. Whatever else is going on, you need to eat. Even if it just means you can drink a larger quantity of whiskey before you pass out.”
“Passing out is not on the agenda.”
“Great. Mmm. This lemon chicken is good.”
He was silent for a moment, staring at her, his jaw set. Then he reached for his bowl, the gesture almost grudging. They ate in silence for a few minutes and she watched out of the corners of her eyes as the harsh, tight look left his face.
“Bet you drive your brothers crazy,” he said.
“Because I can read their tiny minds? Or because I’m right all the time?”
He laughed, and it felt like an achievement. The best thing she’d done all day.
“For the record, the lemon chicken is not that good,” he said.
“Hell, no. I was just selling it to you,” she admitted, and he barked out another laugh.
She’d piled the bowls so high she had to set hers down when it was still half full.
Garret shot her an appraising glance. “Admitting defeat?”
“A girl has to know her limits.”
It wasn’t long before he was following suit.
“I may have been a little overambitious with the ordering,” she admitted. “On the plus side, lunch is taken care of tomorrow.”
He was watching her, his expression serious. “Thank you.”
“It’s just food. And I was eating anyway.”
“It’s more than that.”
She looked away, unable to hold his eye. Afraid that if she did, he’d see exactly how often she thought of him, how much real estate he occupied in her mind.
“What do I owe you?” he asked.
She snapped her focus back to him. “Nothing. It’s all good.”
She slipped off his desk and grabbed both bowls.
“You can’t keep buying me dinner.”
“You paid for the pizzas last week,” she pointed out.
“You know what I mean.”
“Just think of it as a friend looking out for a friend.”
“So we’re friends now?” He was fro
wning, almost as though he was offended by the notion.
“You don’t want to be my friend?” she asked.
“That’s not what I meant.”
They stared at each other, and she could see the desire in his eyes, could see him fighting himself, trying to hold back. She reminded herself of what she’d said to Eva about not becoming another problem for him.
He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her. That much was obvious.
And she liked him enough, cared for him enough, to do the thing that had to be done. The hard thing. The right thing.
“Don’t work too late,” she said. Then she walked away, leaving him to deal with whatever crisis Mae had brought to his doorstep.
*
Garret sat and listened to the soft scuff of Sierra’s bare feet on the floorboards as she walked away. He told himself that it was a good thing she was putting some distance between them. He’d made a promise to himself that there wasn’t going to be a repeat of the other night. She worked for him. She needed to be able to do that without her boss fantasizing about spreading her across his desk and losing himself in her sexy body.
He dropped his head back against the chair, trying to cool his heated thoughts, willing himself to not be an asshole. He refused to take advantage of Sierra, to use her instinctive generosity and kindness against her. Right now he was a drowning man, and the need to reach out for something good and real and solid was profound.
His life was turning to shit, and she was amazing, and the way she made him feel was nothing short of nuclear. The temptation to indulge in the potent distraction of their chemistry was real.
So real.
But it was also more than that. If this was any other time or place or situation, he’d be moving heaven and earth to make her a part of his life for more than one night.
He liked her that much. He wanted her that much.
She was smart and sweet, sexy and strong. She didn’t take crap from anyone, and she’d survived immeasurable loss and come out the other side resilient and generous.
She was fucking incredible.
Which was exactly why he should stay away from her.
He closed his eyes, trying to find the strength to deny the need thrumming through his body.
Images from the other night flashed across his mind and his fingers curled around the armrests as he remembered the smoothness of her skin, the silk of her hair, the warm, wet welcome of her body as he slid inside her.
She had been so responsive, so daring, and yet so vulnerable and accepting at the same time.
He’d never felt more connected to another person. Ever.
Who the fuck are you kidding here?
The question was like a bolt from the blue, delivering a moment of piercing clarity.
Because, really, who the fuck was he kidding? There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands off Sierra. Pretending he wasn’t crazy for her was a pointless, stupid exercise in self-deception. Even if he won the battle of wills he was waging against himself now, he was still bound to fail another night—be it this week, or the next, or the one after that.
Why wait when he wanted her now? Why deny both of them the magic that happened when they were skin to skin?
He stood, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt weirdly detached from his body as he made his way to the kitchen. It was empty, the surfaces pristine. He walked through it, heading for the modern wing. Then he climbed the staircase and stepped onto the landing.
The door to her bedroom was open. Sierra stood next to the bed, folding clothes into her duffel bag. She froze when she saw him standing there, her eyes wide.
For a long beat they stared at one another, potential ricocheting between them. Then her expression shifted, her eyes warming, her mouth softening. She reached for the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it over her head. She tossed it into the corner and faced him wearing nothing but a black lace bra and yoga leggings. She lifted an eyebrow, tilted her head.
“What are you waiting for? A written invitation?”
Everything in him wanted to close the distance between them. The need to have her body pressed against his own was visceral and urgent. But he planted his feet, refusing to give in until he’d been plain with her. “This isn’t just about sex for me.”
“I know. Me either.”
Her words set him free, and he moved toward her, hands lifting to the collar of his shirt. She tucked her fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants and pushed them down in one smooth motion. He got stuck on the third button down and lost patience, grabbing either side of his shirt and yanking until the remaining buttons popped free. He tossed his shirt into the corner as she retrieved a condom from the bedside drawer before pulling back the covers on the bed and lying down. He fumbled with his belt, then his fly, kicking his pants free before toeing off his shoes.
Then he was naked, and the mattress was giving beneath him as he climbed onto the bed, and her arms were coming around him. Her breasts were warm against his chest as she wrapped her legs around him. The sensation of being close to her again, of being one with her again, stole his breath away.
For a long moment they simply held each other, arms tight with unspoken words and unacknowledged emotion. Then she smoothed a hand down his side and onto his ass, and he lifted his head so he could kiss her. She opened to him, giving him everything he wanted and more, and even though he wanted—needed—to take it slowly tonight, to stay with her and inside her for as long as he could, to take solace and shelter and comfort from her lean, strong body, her amazing green eyes, and her clever mind, he was powerless against the rising tide of desire building between them.
Within minutes they were both shaking and panting as he guided his cock to her entrance. He slid inside her with a satisfied, earthy groan of appreciation, overwhelmed by how hot and wet she was, how tight and perfect. A shiver rippled through her, and he withdrew almost all the way before sliding inside her again, just to see if he could make her shiver a second time. He could and she did, and it wasn’t long before he was nothing but sensation, his body racked with almost painful pleasure. Sierra’s face was flushed, her nipples tight and pink and wet from his mouth, her legs locked around his hips as she urged him to go harder, faster, deeper.
And then she arched off the bed, her hips lifting with a jerk, her eyes closed as she said his name over and over as she pulsed around his cock. He loved watching her come, so much so that he pushed back on his own need and reached between them to find the swollen bud of her clitoris. Her eyes popped open as he circled his finger, sliding over and over that taut little bead as he continued to pump into her.
“Again,” he said, his voice low and demanding. “Come for me again.”
“Can’t. Not yet,” she said, trying to push his hand away.
“Dare you,” he said, and he saw the flash of amusement and appreciation in her eyes.
He slid deeper, his finger still plucking away at that needy little bead, and she bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed.
“That’s right,” he said, because he could feel her muscles clenching tighter, could feel the way her fingers were curling into his ass cheeks with new urgency now. “Come hard for me, baby.”
And then she was there again, her head falling back on her neck, her body grasping his, and he was gone, too, light exploding behind his eyes as he lost himself and the world and everything except Sierra and the way she made him feel and the exquisite pleasure of being inside her.
They lay tangled together afterward, breathing heavily, the smell of sex and sweat and Sierra’s perfume in the air. Her eyes were closed, and he turned his head so he could catalogue her face, admiring the arch of her eyebrows, the slope of her nose, the fineness of her skin. Finally she opened her eyes and turned her head so she could look at him. After a second or two her mouth curved into a small smile.
“They should take a photo of your face right now and put it under the definition for smug in the dictionary,” she said.
/>
He held up two fingers. She laughed.
“Not that anyone’s counting,” she said.
“I’m getting a T-shirt made,” he said.
She rolled onto her stomach, offering him an unimpeded view of the long line of her back and legs. In the not too distant future, he planned to kiss every inch of that smooth, tanned skin.
But first he needed a few minutes to catch his breath.
Sierra pushed her hair over her shoulder, then propped her chin on her hand. She considered him for a long moment before speaking. “I don’t want to bring down the mood, and you don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but I want you to know that I’m happy to listen if you need to unload. Well, unload in a different way,” she said with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.
He looked away from her searching gaze, suddenly aware of the cool air on his naked body.
“Give me a second.” He rolled off the bed and stepped into the en suite bathroom to dispose of the condom.
He glanced at the mirror and recognized the unease in his eyes. The truth was, he didn’t want the ugliness of what he might be facing at Tate Transport to intrude on what was happening between them, but Sierra was clearly worried on his behalf and he’d confided in her enough over the past week to feel as though he owed her an explanation.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his back on his reflection and exited the bathroom to go bare his soul.
Chapter Thirteen
Sierra gave him a searching look as he climbed back into bed and pulled the duvet over both of them.
“Thanks,” she said as he settled the duvet around her shoulders, but he knew she was waiting for him to respond to her offer.
He sighed heavily. “Mae’s gotten wind that the DA is working on a commercial bribery case in the transport industry.”
Sierra’s face went stiff and blank with shock. “So . . . does that mean Tate Transport is in trouble? Has Mae confirmed that your dad and Ron were doing sketchy deals with that slush fund?”
“Nothing is confirmed yet.” He tucked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling, his mind once again whirling with anxiety and half-formed thoughts. Even the best sex in the world could only keep the Tate Transport shitstorm at bay for so long.
More Than a Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 3) Page 16