Homecoming Ranch (30 page)

“Then what
did
you mean?” he demanded softly.

She blinked. Luke suddenly pulled her away from the car, kissing her. It was a hard, determined kiss. His fingers splayed across her cheek and jaw, and he snaked an arm around behind her, pulling her into him, anchoring her there. He demanded entrance into her mouth with his tongue and kissed her until her knees began to give out on her, and Madeline melted right into him.

Only then did he lift his head, gazing down at her, caressing her cheek. Only then did Madeline realize she had caught hold of his wrist and was clinging to it.

“So I didn’t imagine that we made love last night,” he said roughly.

Her cheeks instantly bloomed. “No, of course not.”

“What’s the matter, Maddie? Why are you working so hard to pretend it didn’t happen? Why are you pushing me off on Julie?”

Madeline’s heart was beating so wildly she could hardly breathe. He pulled her closer, and Madeline’s pulse began to pound in her neck. She was panicking, wanting to disappear, but Luke held her so easily, there was no escape from him.

“Just talk to me,” he said. “That’s all you have to do.”

Her mind was whirling, her thoughts pressing painfully against her head. “Last night was…”

He surprised her by slipping two fingers under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “It was what?” he demanded, and stroked her
arm, his palm sliding slowly down, his fingers wrapping around her wrist, then sliding back up.

She closed her eyes. “
Incredible
,” she whispered, and slowly opened them as his hand moved around to her back. “But this morning, I think I had a panic attack. I know that sounds crazy, but I realized that I’m going back to Orlando, and I have baggage, and you have baggage, and probably—it can’t work, Luke. It’s not a good idea.” She winced, hoping that didn’t sound too harsh. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Do what, exactly?” he pressed, his hand caressing her hip, sliding up her ribs, the heel of his palm on her breast, igniting another fire in her, causing her to catch her breath.

Be left.
“You know what,” she said, and drew an unsteady breath as he moved his hand across her breast, his fingers grazing the fabric covering her nipple.

“Well first of all,” he murmured, “no one said anything about this going any place. No one mentioned commitment or marriage or even being pen pals.”

“But…”
But he was right
.

“I’m not saying that it couldn’t ever be more. I wouldn’t mind it one bit if you decided to stick around Pine River. But I think maybe you jumped the gun a little.” He leaned down to kiss her neck.

Madeline’s eyes fluttered shut. She imagined this was what a thousand butterflies winging against her skin must feel like.

He dipped his head to the hollow of her throat. “At the moment, it was one night. We both enjoyed it and we don’t have to hide from it. Where we go from there, or don’t go, is okay. Just don’t do what you did today.”

“Right,” she said, closing her eyes once more as he kissed her temple.

“You don’t get to put your nose in my business.”

She sighed—he was right again.

“And you don’t have to be afraid of whatever it is that has you so locked up—rejection, love, I don’t know. I just know you don’t have to fear it with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said.

“So we’re good?” he asked, pausing to lightly kiss her lips.

“Better than good.” She was already swimming in pleasure; it was pooling between her legs.

“That’s what I want to hear,” he murmured, moving his head down, to the patch of skin in the vee of her dress while his hand first slid down her leg, then between both of them.

“Just one question,” she asked as he caressed her. “When do we decide where we go from there?”

Luke paused in his attention to her, his mouth on her skin. He slowly lifted his head and looked at her, amusement in his eyes. “God you’re a mess,” he said. “A beautiful mess.” He pulled her into his arms, kissed her sweetly, languidly, until Madeline’s legs were melting beneath her. “You’re definitely an enigma,” he muttered against her skin.

“Enigma,” she said, enjoying his attention to her neck, “is kind of a strong word. It’s more like… like unpracticed.”

He smiled. “I think that makes me like you even more.” He opened the back door of the Pontiac. “You obviously need more practice,” he said, and gave her a playful shove.

She fell onto the backseat. Luke followed her in, coming over her, forcing her onto her back in that seat.

“What are you doing?” Madeline asked laughingly.

“I am going to kiss you,” he said, his eyes on her mouth. “We’re making up now.”

“Were we fighting?”

“Do I have to explain it all again?”

No, he didn’t. Her heart was racing again, but it was different this time. It wasn’t panic, or anxiety. It was hope. Madeline slowly lay back as he settled one knee between her legs. A million thoughts went through her mind as he unbuttoned her blouse, kissing her skin, his mouth on her breast, his hand caressing her leg and her hip and stoking her blood. Her mind said no, warned her, chastised her for allowing this to happen
again…

But Madeline closed her eyes to her thoughts, and sank into the pleasurable onslaught of his body against hers, losing herself in the exquisite sensations, and allowing herself to let go, to let go of control,
of organization, of being Madeline, and drift along with a gorgeous man in the backseat of an old Pontiac. A deep sigh of yearning escaped her; she dug her fingers into his shoulders and arched against him as he moved his attention to her breast. She could feel his erection and pressed against it, sliding her leg suggestively against it. Luke made a growling sound, and ran his hand down her body, over the flare of her hip, then slid in between her legs.

Madeline found his mouth as he moved his hand against her, stroking her, reminding her of the euphoria she’d experienced last night, of letting go completely. Her breath quickened and she squirmed against him, wanting more, wanting it all again. Luke obliged her, sliding his arm underneath her hips to lift her, then pressing his body into hers, burrowing deep.

Once again, Madeline was beyond rational thought. She caressed his body with her mouth and hands, wanting to taste and feel every conceivable inch of him. She could feel herself spiraling as he moved inside her, his hand still stroking her. She was coiling tighter and tighter, rising to meet every thrust, desperate for the release. It shuddered through her body, reverberating through every limb, every muscle. She caught her cry and her breath, arched her neck and pressed against him as she fell off the edge of desire into pleasure.

“
Maddie
,” Luke whispered in her ear. His strokes came quicker, harder. She could feel the tension of his body, in the tight curl of his hand around hers, in his breath, hot in her hair. She felt them together, their bodies breathing in unison. It ceased to be physical; it was purely emotion for her now, far bigger and stronger than a physical release. And when she felt him shudder into her, she felt tenderness, desire, and a release of the anxiety. She felt free.

He collapsed onto her, his heart beating wildly against her arm. She kissed his cheek. His eyes were closed, his breathing still ragged, but he gripped her hand like a dying man. And then he opened his eyes, kissed her softly for one long, insanely perfect moment. He lifted his head, lifted himself off of her, and pulled her up. As she adjusted her dress, he stroked her cheek and said, “Come to dinner.”

She giggled. “What? Right now?”

“No, in a few days. We’ll figure out when, but you and Libby. Hell, I’ll even let Jackson in.”

Madeline realized he was serious. “To your house? Oh, Luke, I don’t know—”

“Why? Are you afraid?” he asked, watching her as he fastened his jeans, and smiled.

She sighed. “
No
,” she said, acquiescing.

Luke grinned. “I didn’t think so,” he said, and kissed her again. “Trust me. It will be all right.”

Funny how, in that moment, with the glow of their lovemaking still warm on her skin, Madeline could almost believe it.

The news from Durango
sucks
, man! They are like total downers with their tests and bullshit like “you’ll probably need a feeding tube in twelve to eighteen months,” and crap like that. I don’t listen to them. They’re just a bunch of talking heads to me. It’s like I told Dad, “If they say I have to get a feeding tube, they can kiss my ass. It’s bad enough I have to sit in this chair all the time, but if I can’t have Aunt Patti’s brownies, what’s the point?”

Seriously, what’s the point?

But it upset the old man, and I advised him not to dwell on that, because we are having a
par-tay!
Luke cooked it up as part of his campaign to Save Homecoming Ranch. He told us the same day Jackson came over and told me there were some guys from Denver sniffing around the ranch, and they were asking him lots of questions about the deal Grant and Dad made. Jackson thinks one of the heirs lawyered-up. Dad said he didn’t have the money for a lawyer, and Luke said he did, he had like a ton of equity in his Denver house. They had this
huge
fight about it, and it totally reminded me of Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier fights. Remember how they just went round and round? You can catch those fights sometimes on HBO.

Anyway, Luke is way more stubborn than Dad and he said, “We’re not letting go without a fight. I’ve already seen a lawyer.” And then he said to me, “And we’re having a goddamn party, Leo.”

He said it like that because it was my idea to begin with. Luke rejected it when I first presented it, but he always comes around to my brilliant ideas. Think about it—it’s going to be hard for the lovelies to totally cut us out of the ranch when they actually put names to faces and meet us. You probably think I’m going to use my chair for sympathy. Hell, yeah! It’s got to be good for something, right?

But that’s not why Luke invited them. He’s always been the Dudley Do-Right between us. Still, I like that he’s beginning to think like the apprentice of a certified genius.

I said, “You only want a party because you’re totally into this Blue Eyes chick.” I was just kidding around, but he acted all annoyed. Judge and jury, allow me to present the facts: First, he doesn’t want a party. Then he comes back from Denver and he suddenly wants one. And he wants to invite Blue Eyes and Libby and Jackson to this party, which, you will not be surprised to hear, flipped Dad out.

Dad said, “We don’t have the space and besides, we eat stuff like Chef Boyardee. How the hell are we going to have a
dinner
party?” So I e-mailed Aunt Patti, and she said she would make lasagna, and I said to Dad, “Next time, don’t wig out, come to your Problem-Solver.” That’s me.

Fact number two: Luke is spending all this time in Pine River, it’s like over a week now, and he’s got to be sick of sleeping on the couch. But everyday he gets up and goes to the ranch, and every night he comes back—sometimes super late—and talks about what they did. So one day, I asked him, “What’s there to do out there when the sun goes down?”

He said, “
What
?” Like I was speaking Greek.

And I said, “You’re up there super late all the time. Are you building latrines in the dark?” I thought it was kind of funny but Luke said something about me being an ass.

So later, Dad told me to lay off, that we needed to work together to get Luke back to Denver because houses don’t build themselves, and
that Luke was letting this woman get under his skin. Only it was hysterical because it was clear that Dad thinks the woman under Luke’s skin is Julie.

I
know
it’s not Julie because Dani told me about “the lunch” Julie and Luke had. Dani heard half of it, heard Julie begging for him to take her back and Luke saying that wasn’t going to happen. She said you could have driven a Mack truck through the gulf at that table and Luke would have been happy. She said he looked like he wanted to fold himself up into a little ball and bounce away. (Side note: It would be
awesome
if Luke could make like Rubber Man and turn himself into a ball and bounce away.)

To be fair to Dad, he has this misperception because Julie keeps coming around. She was here Wednesday night with that evil-eye baby of hers, and it so happened it was the same night Marisol got mad at me for suggesting she’d put on a few pounds (well she has, but it’s not like I’m complaining. I like the way her butt looks). Anyway, Marisol let Julie in. So we sat in the living room watching
Castle
with that baby staring at me, and Julie was trying to ask me questions, like “has Luke said anything about when he’ll get back to Denver?”

To which I responded with a succinct, “Nope.”

I wasn’t going to tell her that the guy he’s working with has called him a bunch of times asking him this question that the other day, he told Luke that he had one more week, and then he was going to have to do something, because this guy couldn’t handle all his work. I heard Luke tell him he’d be back by the end of next week, no problem.

I was about to tell Julie that, but then the baby started crying and she had to go, and I didn’t try and stop her—the woman
talks
while my show is on. She was walking out of the house just as Luke drove up. I thought for sure he’d walk right around her and come inside, but no, they sat down on the porch steps and talked for like an hour. When he came in, he was sort of smiling, but not in a happy way, sort of in a “I can’t believe it’s butter” kind of way.

He took one look at me, pointed his finger, and said, “Not one word about her, Leo. Not one, or I will knock your block off.”

Well, they don’t call me Big Mouth at the hospital for nothing, and I said, “Agreed. Not one word about Julie. So what’s up with you and Blue Eyes?”

Luke looked startled and said, “What the hell, Leo? Why are you always trying to create drama where there is none?”

I said, “Hold up there, Cowboy, I’m not creating anything. You haven’t gone back to Denver, you spend every day at the ranch, and the only person you talk about is Madeline Pruett, and for the first time in like a hundred years, you are not hot to trot after Julie Daugherty. It doesn’t take a
genius
to see what’s going on here, but I
am
a genius, and I get it.”