by Jen Talty
He got out of the bed and took two steps around the back of the couch to the kitchen and snagged some juice from the fridge. It was still dark and wouldn’t be light for another hour or so, but he wasn’t going to be able to shut his brain off, so no point in even trying to go back to sleep. He twisted his upper body gently. His ribs still ached, but the crushing pain had disappeared. He slipped on a pair of gym shorts, fired up his laptop, and sat at the table. No new emails or text messages about the case. Nothing from the detectives heading up the investigation.
He logged into the farm’s private server and started scanning the employee records, looking specifically at newer employees, noting their previous employers, jotting down anyone who worked for a competing breeder. Breeding was the farm’s bread and butter, though they were a full-service horse farm, offering everything from riding lessons, trail rides, to boarding, and even summer programs for children and adults. But the Cavanaugh name was best known across the country for its fine breeding of at least five different types of horses.
The detectives had asked about anyone who wanted to see the Cavanaugh breeding business go under or be discredited. There were a few breeders who would jump in and pounce on their customers if that happened, but then it made more sense to poison the horses, not his father or Kenzie.
The bedroom door squeaked open. “What are you doing up so early?” Kenzie shuffled her bare feet across the wood floor, her hands flipping and twisting her long hair into a bun thingy on top of her head.
“Your hair is much prettier down.” He let his gaze linger on her long bare legs.
“It’s a hot mess right now.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” she said. “My bladder did. I wake up at least once in the middle of the night or early morning to pee. Incredibly annoying. Can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when I’m out to here.” She held her arms out and puffed out her cheeks.
“My friend Stacey says her baby uses her bladder as a punching bag.”
“She’s the one I saw at the station that day?”
He nodded.
She fiddled with the notebook and papers he’d put on the table. “What is all this?”
“Looking for clues,” he said. “Employee records. Maintenance records. Trying to figure out who wants you and our baby out of the way.”
“This is crazy,” she said.
He glanced up at her. This morning she wore a tiny pair of plaid shorts and a tank top, with no bra. He noted that when he looked up and saw her puckered nipples against the dark fabric. But it wasn’t even her breasts that made him ache with desire. She could have been standing there in oversized sweats and she’d still have the ability to rev his engine. Most of the time, when she’d come to talk to him over the years, he’d gotten so defensive right off the bat because she was irresistible and every time he laid eyes on her, he wanted her in the most primal way.
“Can I make you some breakfast?” she asked.
“I’ve got a better idea.” He pushed his chair back, gripped her tight thighs, pulling them over his legs, then cupped her firm ass, gliding her to straddle him.
“Not a good idea,” she said as she pushed her hands against his shoulders.
“Probably not,” he said. “But I want you.”
“It would change things and things are complicated enough.” Her words were discouraging, but she didn’t move from his lap. That was encouraging.
“The doctor said we could have sex.”
“The doctor said I could have sex. She said nothing about you.”
He tucked his fingers up under her shorts, feeling her firm ass in his hands. Her skin soft like cotton. “If you can have sex, it should at least be with the father of your baby.”
Her fingers glided down the front of his chest, catching some of his curly strands. “Not sure it would be too good for these.” She put pressure right where Boots hand nailed him.
He tried not to grimace, but it did hurt. A little.
“Still think you should have gotten an X-ray.”
“Doubt they are broken,” he said. “Besides, don’t need those to do this.” Quickly, he cupped her breast, fanning his thumb across her nipple before she managed to bat his hand away.
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t think,” he whispered.
“You don’t like being interrupted so don’t do—”
“You’re talking is interrupting me.” He pulled her close and kissed her hard. Her mouth was soft and warm and she tasted like sunshine. Her lips parted. Her tongue greeted his with slow, but meaningful intent. She moaned softly as he palmed her full breast, teasing her taught nipple over the flimsy thin fabric. Her hands ran down his back, but the stupid tape around his chest prevented skin to skin contact.
“Let’s get this off you.” He tugged at her top, lifting it over her belly toward her breasts. She continued to raise the shirt, pulling it over her head then tossing it on the floor. He stared at the most perfect mounds, moving slightly with her labored breath. “Let your hair down.”
“It will just get in the way later.”
“Don’t care.” He suckled her breast and his ears were rewarded with a moan that rippled his muscles. Her long silky hair flowed down her back and chest. He fisted it, tugging gently, arching her neck and lifting her breasts higher. He devoured each one. Teasing at first with his tongue, then sucking the nipple into his mouth, and grazing them with his teeth. Her hands gently stroked his hair. It was going to be near impossible to keep things under control when all he wanted was to ram himself inside her. Claim her with pounding fury.
She pushed his head back and stood.
“Where are you going?”
She smiled devilishly and knelt between his legs. “Just down here.”
“Naughty girl.”
He’d barely gotten out of his shorts when her lips eased over him. Her mouth hot and her tongue danced across his tip. He reached down, moving her hair to the side, and she glanced up at him, her eyelids fluttered over her milk chocolate eyes. He sucked in a harsh breath, understanding how this could give her power.
Her hand followed her mouth up and down in an erotic dance. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. His breath came in short pants, putting pressure on his ribs. That pain only intensified the magical sensation she created by her tender touch. When she looked up again, he released a guttural groan. “Stand up,” he said through gritted teeth.
She held him with her hands and smiled as she squeezed a little harder.
“Christ,” he whispered. “Stand up.”
When she stood before him, he kissed her belly, his fingers just inside her shorts, rolling them over her hips, her long legs, before helping her step out of them and hoisting her to the kitchen table. He traced a path with his tongue up the inside of her thigh until he found her other moist wet lips. He kissed them tenderly, easing his tongue in and out. She moaned softly, whispering his name, encouraging him to continue. Her fingers clutched his hair and one foot rested on the side of the chair as he slipped his fingers inside, watching them disappear, then sliding them out again. Between each stroke he kissed her hard-swollen nub. Never before had he wanted to please a woman so badly. To know that no matter how he touched her, she would feel and know the most exquisite pleasure possible.
She tasted different than the last time. She was sweeter now. More like apple flavored liquid laced with cinnamon. He wondered if the…his baby changed her taste.
“I’m going…to…oh God…” her words came out as short pants as her legs wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his scalp.
He looked up at, only slightly surprised to see her staring down at him, admiring what his mouth and fingers were doing to her body. Her hips rocking against his tongue. He reached up with his other hand and plucked at her nipple.
“Yes…” she moaned, tossing her head back. “I’m…oh, God,” she called as her body shook in violent pleasure. Moist liquid powering out of her as her knees clasped arou
nd his head, her hips slowing their rocking motion.
“Come here.”
He leaned back in the chair as she climbed on top, holding his length in her hand while she adjusted her body, getting the right angle. Heat engulfing him.
“Oh, Christ.” He grabbed her hips. “Don’t move.”
“Why?”
“I need a moment and I can’t recover seconds later and do it again, like you.” He kept his eyes closed, taking long slow breaths, focusing on the pain in his side not the erotic woman who did things to him on a level beyond physical, but it was their intertwined bodies that so deeply affected him that if he didn’t take a breath, he’d have no chance of enjoying any of it.
“Look at me,” she whispered. Her voice laced with husky desire.
He held her hips tight and when he opened his eyes he saw her hands cupping her breasts, her fingers toying and plucking at her nipples.
“Take a moment and watch.” She lowered one hand and rubbed herself, slowly.
He groaned, digging his fingers into her flesh, watching her fingers move back and forth, then in a circular motion. Her moans grew louder as she moved her fingers faster and faster. Her body wiggled as she tried to grind her hips against him. He moved them back and forth, slowly, controlled, feeling her warmth squeeze around him.
“You’re killing me,” he said with a growl. He leaned up, drawing her nipple into his mouth, wrapping his arms around her waist, matching her passion and pace. He ran his hands all over her body and when he slipped them under her fingers, rubbing her with force, she dropped her head on his shoulders, grinding harder and faster as her body shuddered again with more force than the last time. His toes curled as he gripped her hips, holding them steady while he rammed himself into her with quick powerful strokes until his own release came with deep throaty groan.
Her hair flowed over his chest. Her face burrowed in his neck. Her back was damp with perspiration as he ran his fingers up and down her spine, spent physically and emotionally. He tried to tell himself this was pure lust and any real feelings he had was because she carried his child.
Not because he still deeply cared for this woman.
He held her for a long moment, stroking her silky skin, remembering all the times they’d been together in this very cabin.
“As nice as this is,” he said, “this chair does not lend itself well to cuddling.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed. “Quite comfortable.”
He patted her round ass. “Well, I need to shower. Change the lock on the door to this place. Visit with my dad, then go to work. You have to give Luke the grand tour.”
“I don’t want to move.”
He tilted her chin with his thumb. “I’m not opposed to doing this again tonight. Just perhaps in the bed. Most uncomfortable chair my naked ass has ever been in.”
“Not sure doing this again is a good idea,” she said. “Not that it wasn’t still the best I’ve ever had, just being realistic about our situation.”
Leave it to her to say what he was thinking. He didn’t want to let her go, but the sun had started to brighten the night sky and in less than an hour, Luke would be knocking on the door.
Jake watched as she put her clothes on, then stood in front of the coffee machine while it percolated. She had one hand folded around her middle. Her other hand raised to her face and she bit down on the tip of a finger. Something she did when she contemplated anything.
“Do you regret what we just did?” While he understood why she might, it bothered him she would.
“It’s not regret,” she said, glancing his way. “Being with you was always the easy part. We never had any problems in that department. But there is no us anymore and having sex isn’t going to help us figure out how to co-parent, which is what we need to focus on.”
He pulled down two mugs, then leaned against the counter, his hip touching hers. “You think we’re heading down a slippery slope.”
“I want you…need you to be in our baby’s life and having sex just adds more complications. We need to find a way to be friends. We’ve spent nine years apart and angry with each other. We don’t know each other anymore. For all I know you’ve got a girlfriend or something.”
He arched a brow. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if I did, and if it makes you feel any better, the last time before this morning that I had sex was with you.”
“It does make me feel better, but not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“You’re living here temporarily. Once we find out who’s trying to hurt me, our lives go back to what they were before and that is the reality we have to work with.”
“You’re right,” he said. “So, that means no more sex for us, huh?”
“I think it’s for the best.”
“Can we at least buy a new pull out sofa?”
She laughed. “I bought a new sofa a couple of weeks ago. This one was used when you lived here and I can’t stand it. I hadn’t intended the new one to be a sleeper sofa, only the one I really liked just happens to have one.”
“I guess I can handle a few more nights on that shitty thing,” he said. “But, we could be friends with benefits. Just for the next few nights.”
She shook her head. “Tempting, but no.”
He shrugged. “I had to try. At least we seem to be proving to ourselves we can get along well enough to raise a child together.”
She laughed. “There was a time when that statement wouldn’t seem so bizarre.”
“We had some really good times together.”
“That we did,” she said. “Why don’t you hit the shower? I’ll make you some French toast and sausage.”
“I like the sound of that.” He wanted to lean in and kiss her pouty lips. He understood and agreed with everything she said, but it still didn’t change the fact that being with her again ignited the torch he’d always carried.
6
Jake twisted and turned. His back hurt and ribs sore from a long day on patrol and he dreaded the idea of sleeping in that damn sofa bed. He had suggested they sleep in the main house, considering there were five spare rooms, but Kenzie didn’t like that idea. She liked her own space and in all her years on the farm she’d only spent one night in the main house. He pushed that memory out of his head. Maybe his father could get her to see it would be safer in the main house. After the accident, he seen while on lake patrol today, feeling safe was exactly what he needed.
He pushed open the back door to the main house and got a decent whiff of good old-fashioned fried chicken. The fresh oil, pepper, and basil filled his nostrils and he could taste the crispy double dipped chicken. It was after seven and his growling stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten a thing. Elsie made the best fried chicken, sour cream and chive mashed potatoes, with a side of fresh grilled zucchini known to man.
There were two kitchens in the house, but the one near the back entrance was a state of the art professional kitchen, and meant to cook for the entire farming staff, including the office building.
He stepped through the doorway and saw his father sitting at the small table generally used for staff who had missed a meal for whatever reason. “What are you doing out of bed?”
His father glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going stir crazy.”
“He refused to eat the soup I made him.” Jeanie, his nurse, leaned against the counter next to Elsie, who seemed to finally accept his father needed a nurse.
“I’m tired of liquids,” his father said. “And that soup had no flavor at all.”
“But it’s good for you.” Jeanie waggled her finger. “And easy on the throat.”
Jake grabbed the plate that Elsie handed him and piled it with a crispy chicken leg and the meatiest breast he could find. “Any reason he can’t have this kind of food?” He plopped a large helping of mashed potatoes next to his chicken, leaving little room for veggies, so he just piled those on top.
“The issue is that it irritates his throat,” Je
anie said. “It’s good that he’s hungry, and he can eat this as long as it is small bits, chewed well and not a lot.”
Jake sat down at the table, across from his father. He still looked pale, but the yellow tint seemed to be gone. His face was still sullen and he looked bone thin. “Dad, chew your food.”
“Yes, son.”
Jake smiled, held up the chicken leg and took a very large bite. The outside was crispy, but the meat was moist. “Oh, my, God, Elsie. This is better than I remember.” He stuffed his face with a few more bites, noticing his father picked more than ate. His face still sunken and pale. Jake had to admit, Kenzie was right. No matter what brought him back to the farm, he should have done it a long time ago. Life was too short.
“I think you’re going to be the one with a stomach ache,” Elsie said. “Slow down and enjoy the food, for Pete’s sake.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten like this. He wasn’t the best cook. Generally lived on pasta with sauce from a jar or grilled meat of some kind. Or take out. He did a lot of take out.
Elsie patted him on the back. “Put the left overs in the fridge. I’ll see ya’ll in the morning.”
“Have a good night,” Kenzie said to Elsie as she breezed into the kitchen, Luke right behind her.
Jake’s father waved her over and she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Get a plate and get some food.”
“You know I don’t eat fried foods,” she said. “I had a salad a little while ago, anyway.”
Jake pulled out the chair next to him. Being near her was like feeling the warmth of the sun on your face, only problem was he desperately wanted to lose himself in her tender arms. “You need protein. The baby needs protein.”
“The salad had grilled chicken in it and since when did you become an expert on what a pregnant woman should eat?”
“I was reading that expectant book last night and you really don’t eat enough. Don’t have to double your intake, just don’t think you’re getting enough calories and you’re going to end up run down because the baby is sucking all your energy.”