Come On Over (17 page)

She slipped between the cool sheets and lay on her side, both hands underneath her head as she watched him strip bare. He was mostly hard when he walked around to the other side, but all he did was scoot in back of her and tuck her in close. He made a perfect big spoon.

He cuddled like a champ, and yeah, there was no mistaking his condition. But when his hand moved down her tummy and snuck in between her thighs, he whispered, “Don't worry. This is all about you. All you have to do is close your eyes and enjoy. Okay?”

She nodded. No one had ever...

His talented fingers knew exactly what to do. The key was slow and steady. Circling her clit until she was moving her hips, breathing deeper. Clutching his arm and the bottom sheet as he patiently drove her nuts.

“Come on, baby,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “That's it. Just let go.”

She nearly tore the sheet as her climax started deep inside. Like swirling clouds about to become a tornado, all the ripples started coming together, swelling underneath his fingers.

“I've got you,” he whispered. “I'm right here. Let go, honey. I've got you.”

It hit her hard, not just between her legs, but all over. He held her as she trembled. Not just because of her orgasm, but because she completely believed him.

As soon as the quaking subsided, she turned to face him. He smiled, until she drew away and sat up.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” She pushed at his shoulders and he fell back.

“No, Shelby, that's not what I was trying to—”

“I know.” She swung a leg over his hips and straddled him. “This is what I want.”

“You're tired.”

“Shut up,” she said and leaned down to kiss him. It took little to get him to respond.

While their tongues explored and mated, she reached between them. He was hard. Incredibly hard, the silky head smooth and moist. She firmed her grasp and slid down the length of him. His breath stuttered in her mouth. She only teased him for a few seconds before she grabbed a condom from the nightstand, sheathed him, then positioned him to enter her.

She sank down all the way and his moan filled the room. He cupped her breasts, his hands shaking as he gently kneaded. Rocking against him, she fought the stunning surge of pressure building in her own body.

“Ah, Shelby.” He was gazing up at her, the tenderness in his face nearly her undoing.

She lifted slightly and came down harder.

He bucked up squeezing his eyes shut. “Take it slower,” he whispered. “Please.”

No, not this time. She wanted him to explode just as she had done.

It barely took any movement at all. She rocked once, twice, and they both trembled.

Froze.

He whispered her name the same instant she whispered his. She started to move again. In a matter of seconds the world shattered around them.

17

S
HELBY
STARED
AT
the bags littering her workroom and groaned. After digging through every one of them she still couldn't find the special wire cutters and polished hammer she'd bought in Kalispell yesterday. They weren't in her trunk, either. She'd checked. Twice. She really had to do something about organizing her work space.

“What's wrong?”

She looked up to find Trent leaning against the doorframe, a steaming mug in his hand and a telltale smile on his face. “Don't even—”

“What?”

“You think I don't know that smile by now? Please. We are both too busy to start having—”

He pushed off the doorframe and walked into the room, with an expression of faint amusement. “Go ahead and finish. Having what?”

Oh, he was going to make her insane. She met him partway, grabbed the front of his shirt and gently pulled him down so their lips were inches apart. “You're lucky you're holding that coffee.”

“I can put it down.”

Shelby laughed and gave him a quick kiss. “I really can't.”

Trent chuckled. “Hey, I came in to get a refill and was minding my own business when I heard you shriek. I'm just here to investigate, ma'am. That's all.”

“I don't think I shrieked.” She sighed and, stepping back, glanced around the floor. “I really am an organized person. It's just— I'm glad for this room. It's wonderful. But I need to get better set up or I'll never fill all those orders in time. Jeez, what a nightmare.”

“In time? You mean for Christmas?”

She shrugged. “I know some of the jewelry is for gifts.”

“It's been only three days since the fair and this is Blackfoot Falls. You meet a deadline or do anything too quickly and everyone will start talking. By day two word will have spread that you're an alien.”

“Fine. If people start hounding me about their orders, I'll send them to you.”

He smiled. “Come here.”

“See? I knew it.” She couldn't help her own grin as she took the four steps back to him.

The kiss began light, a brush of lips, a tiny nip, a quick taste. As usual, within seconds they gave in to it. She wouldn't let them get carried away, though. Not so much because she was busy, but she knew Trent was rushing to beat winter, and he was tired from all the sheet-tangling lasting into the wee hours.

She broke the kiss. “We need to talk,” she said, putting up a finger. “Not now. Later.” The late nights really had to stop. It wasn't as if either of them were going anywhere...

A sudden painful awareness squeezed her chest. Ten days, Violet had said. Which meant D-day would be...

Shelby sucked in a deep breath. It was no wonder she couldn't hold on to the looming date she'd calculated a hundred times. The whole thing was stressing her out. It wasn't today and not tomorrow. No, wait. Maybe it was tomorrow. And she hadn't done anything about it. She'd thought about visiting Violet, but the woman had practically disappeared.

“A talk?” Trent pushed a hand through his adorably rumpled hair. “Am I gonna hate it?”

“Possibly.” She gave him a deceptively bright smile. “For now I have to run into town since I can't seem to keep track of a darn thing.” She swept a gaze over the ridiculous number of packages. “Need anything?”

He relaxed. “Condoms.”

Yes, they had more to discuss than she'd thought initially. But no point in making him tense—

“What? Condoms?”

“Get the big box.”

The Food Mart and Abe's Variety were the only two places she'd find them. “You couldn't have told me yesterday when I was in Kalispell?”

Trent laughed. She glared, and he only laughed harder.

“You're a sophisticated city woman. I didn't think you'd have a problem with—” he lowered his voice to a whisper “—
s-e-x
.”

She blushed, but couldn't say why. Well, except...small town. No anonymity.

Pretty good reasons why she was a smidge embarrassed. “Fine.” She scooped her purse off the floor. “I'll buy the biggest box they have.”

“I was just teasing.” He lowered his chin and gave her a contrite puppy-dog look. “We're okay until I go in to pick up my feed order on Friday.”

“Nope. Already on my list. A supersize box. Just so long as you can live up to the order.”

He laughed again, put an arm around her waist and planted a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Darlin', I'll do my best.”

Trent had asked for the large box, she thought, smiling all the way to her car. Look at her, making plans, looking forward to a future with Trent. Was she...falling in love? With the man who might lose his ranch, his home, because of her?

God, very scary thought.

Unfortunately, that didn't make it less true.

* * *

T
RENT
HAD
JUST
swapped out the rusty metal fence post for a sturdy cedar pole when he heard a car. It didn't sound like Violet's truck—he'd been praying she'd come home before Shelby so he could speak with her in private. No, this engine was smooth, the rich purr similar to Shelby's sedan.

He rounded the barn just as a black car pulled to a stop. A Mercedes? Sweat trickled down his forehead into his eye. Damn weather was being fickle. Yanking up his T-shirt, he blotted the sweat from his eye as he approached the sedan.

The driver had climbed out. A tall thirty-something man with dark blond hair was staring at Trent as if he was part of a freak show. He pulled down the hem of his shirt, grabbed his hat off the wheelbarrow and watched the stranger pan the house and stable with a critical frown.

“Afternoon,” Trent said, setting the Stetson on his head and pulling down the rim against the sun. “Can I help you?” The second the words left his mouth he noticed the Colorado plate.

Shit.

“I'm not sure.” The man checked his phone, glanced back toward the house. “Do you know Shelby Foster?”

“I do.”

His faintly patronizing smile stuck in Trent's craw. “Is she here?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Trent was tempted to just say
yep
. “Who's asking?”

“Donald Williamson. Her fiancé.”

“Huh. Sorry.” Wiping his palm on his jeans, he walked around the hood with his grime-streaked hand extended. And thoroughly enjoyed watching Donald's look of disdain turn to dread. “I thought you two split up.”

The man's gaze shot up to meet Trent's. He seemed barely mindful of Trent firmly pumping his hand. “Is that what Shelby told you?”

“She didn't tell me you were coming.” Trent stood back, folding his arms across his chest, feet planted shoulder-width apart.

“She wouldn't have. It's a surprise.” To give him credit, he didn't inspect the grime Trent left on his palm. “Would you mind me asking how you two know each other?”

He scratched his jaw, trying to act perplexed. This was tricky. Trent had no idea what she'd told the guy. Obviously she'd told him something, though, or he wouldn't be standing here making Trent sweat. The guy was good-looking, he supposed. Rich. And he'd come running after her. Women liked that shit.

Jesus. Trent wasn't feeling so smug all of a sudden. “Haven't you two talked since she's been here?”

“Once. Briefly.”

Trent's gut knotted. Time to decide which road to take. The low road was looking mighty good. “We're friends. Old family friends. Our great-grandfathers knew each other.”

“Ah.” Donald seemed vaguely relieved. “And this is the Eager Beaver ranch?”

“Correct.”

“How long has she been staying here?”

No. No way. He wouldn't discuss Shelby. “Tell you what... It's Donald, right?” Trent waited for the nod. “Why don't you come inside, have something cold to drink. She should be back at any minute.”

Donald didn't look overjoyed with the suggestion. He brushed something off his tailored navy blue sports jacket, turned and glanced back at the road, probably hoping to see Shelby's car turn down the driveway, then said, “Thank you.”

Waiting while Donald pressed his key fob and locked the Mercedes's doors, Trent held in a snort. “So, Donald,” he said, clapping the guy on the back and steering him to the porch, “you like beer?”

* * *

S
HELBY
NEEDED
TO
be smarter about planning her trips to town. Now that she knew a few people, there was no such thing as dashing in and out of a store. Some of the folks in Blackfoot Falls liked to chitchat about absolutely nothing. For goodness' sake some of them already recognized her car.

It was sort of nice, so she wasn't really complaining. But it would be much nicer when she didn't have a gazillion orders to fill, or a giant box of condoms to buy. She just had to laugh as she turned down the driveway. This sure
wasn't
Kansas anymore.

She saw a black car and couldn't remember Trent mentioning that he was expecting company. As she got closer, and recognized the familiar Mercedes, her heart leaped into her throat. How was this possible? Donald couldn't know she was here. She'd spoken to him only once and had never said a word about the Eager Beaver, or Montana for that matter.

Her cell buzzed. She parked, read the text. It was Trent, warning her about Donald. A little late. Could mean he'd just arrived. God, she really hoped so.

She got out and went around to the passenger side for her packages. Her hands shook, so she hefted the bags into her arms. The stupid box of condoms was sitting right on top. She threw everything back on the seat, not caring that the contents spilled onto the floor. She drew in a deep breath and took only her purse with her.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

How long had Donald been here? What were he and Trent talking about? How had Donald even known she was here? He had no right to track her down, much less show up without warning.

This was bad.

Okay, she needed to calm herself. Slow down her heart rate. Anger and nerves, not a good combination.

God, she wished she knew if they'd seen her. She lingered on the porch, away from the living room window, drawing in long deep breaths.

Finally, she opened the front door.

Trent was lounging in the recliner, his expression unreadable. Donald was sitting on the couch, leaning forward. Looking out of place in his sports jacket. Both men turned toward her.

Donald smiled, and got to his feet.

She closed the door behind her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, annoyed when he approached to kiss her cheek. No need to make a scene, she reminded herself. And stood still as a statute for the light peck.

He reached for her hand, but she moved it back. Too bad Trent couldn't see her reaction from where he sat. God, she hoped he didn't think she'd invited Donald.

“You haven't told me why you're here,” she said, unsmiling. “Or how you found me.”

“Shelby, honey, I think we should have this conversation in private, don't you?”

Frankly, she couldn't imagine that they had anything to say to each other, period. Her resentment and disappointment toward him had started to fade since leaving Denver. But showing up unannounced and uninvited? She was pissed all over again.

But she needn't be rude, or make Trent feel uncomfortable. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She gave Donald a stiff nod.

“Guess that's my cue to leave. I got a lot of work to do outside, anyway.” Trent stood and stretched. “I offered Donald something to drink when he got here ten minutes ago. You might want to get him something now that he's had to listen to me go on about our families being friends for three generations.”

“Four,” she said without thinking. She wanted to kiss him for sliding in the heads-up. That was so like Trent. What a wonderful, caring man. She should kiss him. Right now. In front of God and Donald. “Thanks.” She gave him a small smile. “I shouldn't be long.”

With a slow nod and lingering look he walked past her to the door. “Nice meeting you, Donny.”

“Yes, likewise.” Donald's troubled eyes stayed on her. He waited until Trent had left and said, “What the hell's going on with you, Shelby?”

She huffed a laugh and evaded the hand he extended. “What the hell's going on? That's what I want to know. How did you find me?”

“Your mom. Between the two of us we figured out you must have come here.”

Shelby did a quick mental replay of the two conversations she'd had with her mom. Montana might've been mentioned, but— It didn't matter. “That you had to figure out where I was should have been your first clue. Why on earth would you think you could just show up like this?”

“Because I love you,” he said with a hint of impatience, a dash of arrogance.

“Donald...” She sighed, suddenly so drained she could weep. “Let's sit.” She waited until he was reseated on the couch and then took the recliner. It was obvious he didn't like it. But she didn't particularly care. “Because you love me isn't enough. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings, but it's true.”

Donald stood up, and she recognized his frown and his pacing. He'd been all ready to sweep her off her feet, forgive her silly tantrum and win her back with his heartfelt plea. As if.

“Look,” he said. “I know why you left, okay? I get that now. But you didn't even give me a second chance.”

“A chance for what?”

“To convince you we deserve to try again.” He stilled in front of her. “You have to admit we had a lot of good times together, Shel. And you've got your job just waiting for you. Along with a nice raise, of course.”

“Of course.”

“We'll start fresh.” He pulled a familiar box from his jacket pocket. The diamond was an extraordinary three-carat round solitaire, nearly flawless, mounted on 18k white gold. And it could be hers, just for marrying Donald—right after she signed a document stating it would go back to the family if they should ever split up.