I Cross My Heart (10 page)

She glanced up at him as his obvious intent dawned on her. “Are you really—”

“Yes.” He grabbed her running shorts by the elastic. “Lift up.”

“I don’t know about this. What if the table breaks?”

“It won’t. That’s why I tested it earlier. Lift up.”

“You planned on this?”

“You talk too much.” Leaning down, he kissed her while he began pulling her shorts off. As his tongue worked its magic, she became more compliant. Bracing her weight on her arms, she raised her hips, and soon her shorts were on the floor and her bare bottom was resting on the table’s smooth coolness.

He straightened, his breathing labored. “Now take your top off.” He pulled another condom from his pocket and held it in his teeth while he unfastened his jeans.

“Bossy, aren’t we?” But she did as she was told.

He took the condom packet from between his teeth and ripped it open. “Sorry. When I’m agitated, I give orders.”

“And I agitate you?”

“Aw, honey, you have no idea.” Reaching down, he grasped her ankles. “Brace yourself on your arms again. This is the fun part.”

She gasped as he lifted her legs and hooked her heels over his shoulders. “Nash!” She’d never felt so open and exposed in her life.

“Easy does it, sweetheart. You’ll be fine.” Palms flat on the table on either side of her hips, he probed her moist center with the head of his penis. “Ah, there you are.” And he thrust deep, nearly lifting her off the table.

She gasped again. He filled her to the brim and touched her in places she could swear no man had ever gone before. The sensation of having him so deep inside her, and being unable to move at all, was...incredible. She almost felt as if she could come without him doing a single other thing. Almost.

He leaned forward, his gaze searching hers. “How’re you doing, sweetheart?”

She nodded, not sure she could form actual words. But she loved looking into his eyes, which burned with the same fire that licked through her veins.

“Good?”

She nodded again.

“Your pupils are huge. I think you’re liking this. I’m glad. I won’t last long at this angle.”

She managed a strained response. “Me, either.”

“Let’s see.” Holding her gaze, he eased back and pushed forward again. “Ah, I felt you grab me.”

“Mmm.” She strained toward the climax dangling just out of reach.

He paused and leaned forward again, his mouth hovering over hers. “Promise me something.”

She swallowed. “Anything. I need...”

“This?” He stroked her again very slowly.

Almost there. “Yes. More.”

“Promise not to rip out the carpet yourself.”

Carpet? He was talking about carpet at a time like this? “
Nash.
For the love of—”

“Promise me.” He shoved in tight again and held them both perfectly motionless.

She ached for more of that sweet friction. It wouldn’t take much.

“Promise.” He withdrew again with exquisite slowness.

She’d lost track of the conversation in the blast furnace of her lust. “Promise what?”

“The carpet.”

“Yes! Whatever! Now do me!”

“You bet, sweetheart. You bet.” And he began to pump into her with a speed that made her body clench tighter, and tighter, and...with a cry, she hurtled into the whirlpool of her climax. He followed her there, his body shuddering as he gasped out her name.

Her arms began to shake as her climax ebbed, leaving her flooded with pleasure. Murmuring words of gratitude, he gently disentangled their bodies and carried her to the bed, where he covered her up.

As she drifted between wakefulness and sleep, she was vaguely aware that he’d gone into the bathroom, and later on he’d picked up his boots from the floor. Last of all, she felt his lips brush her cheek. “Don’t rip out the carpet without me,” he said softly.

“’Kay,” she murmured in response, and smiled sleepily. He wouldn’t have had to work so hard to secure her agreement, but she wouldn’t tell him that. His wild performance had been fun.

“I’ll lock the door behind me.”

“Mmm.”

“Wish I could stay.” And then he was gone, walking through the house and turning out lights as he went. The front door opened and closed, and soon afterward his truck rumbled to life.

Wish I could stay.
Her eyes snapped open as she registered his tone. Tender, longing,
loving.
He was falling for her. That realization was bad enough. But even worse than that, from her standpoint, was that she was falling for him.

10

E
DDIE
AND
A
CE
SEEMED
to have become Nash’s charges. Emmett had sent all three of them on a short ride first thing in the morning, and Nash had managed to bring them back alive. Considering how green they were, he thought that was a major accomplishment. He was teaching them how to unsaddle the horses when Sarah walked over from the house.

A tall woman whose blond hair had gone white, she carried herself with the same regal bearing as her mother, who had been a runway model in New York. Her clear blue eyes missed nothing. Because she and his mother, Lucy, were best friends, Nash had always considered Sarah kin.

Her smile encompassed both the boys and Nash. “Congratulations on a successful outing.”

Eddie and Ace stood there in awkward silence. They’d chattered away during the entire ride, but Miss Sarah, as they called her, obviously intimidated them. Nash thought that was a good thing. Sarah deserved their utmost respect, as she also deserved his.

“They did great,” Nash said, filling the silence. “Born riders, both of them.” He was stretching the truth a little, but the kids needed confidence.

“I thought they would be from the minute I met them.” Sarah glanced at Nash. “When you’re finished here, I’d like to see you up at the house.”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Terrific. See you then. Pay attention to Nash, boys. He knows what he’s doing.”

They both mumbled, “
Yes, ma’am,”
and stared at the ground. But once she’d left, they each had plenty to say.

Ace led off. “You are in
trou
-ble.” He wagged his head knowingly. “She’s calling you up there to give you a talking-to.”

“Yeah, she is,” Eddie piped in. “A boss lady like that doesn’t come down here looking for someone unless she wants to give you what for.” The boy looked worried. “I hope she’s not going to fire you.”

Nash chuckled. “She’s not. I haven’t given her any reason to do that.”

“Maybe it’s something you don’t even know you did!” Ace was getting into the spirit of this new development. “Sometimes my foster dad gets all upset when I didn’t do
anything.
So then I’m all like, ‘what’d I do?’ And he’s all like, ‘you know perfectly well what you did.’ But I don’t.”

Nash’s heart ached for the kid, who’d never known unconditional love and had to work within a system that didn’t often provide it. “Sarah doesn’t look for things to gripe about. And you notice she was smiling when she came down here. If she had a problem with me, she wouldn’t cover it up with smiles. She’s not like that.”

“That’s good.” Eddie nodded. “My stepmom can be smiling one minute and smack you the next. You never know what’ll happen. That’s why I like it here. You know what to expect.”

“Yeah.” Ace laughed. “You can expect them to work you to death.”

Nash raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, maybe not
to death.
That would be child abuse. But we work hard.”

“So do I,” Nash said quietly. “And I’m grateful for a roof over my head and three meals a day.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Oh, man, the Chances sure brainwashed you!”

Eddie punched him in the arm. “Knock it off. You like it here, and they don’t work us
that
hard. Like tonight we get to watch a movie under the stars. We’re gonna have popcorn and everything. I don’t know about you, but I think that’s cool.”

“It’s okay.” Ace wasn’t ready to drop his mask of indifference just yet.

Nash looked forward to the day he did. He thought it would come before Ace left the ranch in the middle of August. For now, he was protecting himself, and Nash certainly understood that impulse.

After the boys had returned the saddles, blankets and bridles where they belonged and had used a currycomb on their horses, Nash released them to Emily, Emmett’s daughter. She was in training to take over as foreman someday, and Emmett was proud as punch about that.

The boys worked harder for Emily than anyone else because they thought she was hot. Nash had heard them bemoaning the fact that she was married. Today she’d set up a fence-mending operation, and although the kids might think of themselves as unpaid labor, the jobs they were doing would take twice as long because they had to learn the basics first.

Nash had gone from dreading the presence of the kids to active interest in their progress. Until he’d worked with them, he’d viewed their arrival as a nuisance. The ranch ran smoothly without this interruption, so why introduce it?

But now he was a fan. He’d been lucky enough to grow up in a loving family, but not everyone got that kind of break. Pete Beckett had identified a need in the community, and hooking up with the Last Chance had been a no-brainer. The love that had developed between Sarah and Pete only added to the beauty of the plan.

Feeling proud to be a part of the Last Chance and all it stood for, Nash walked up to the main house to find out what Sarah had on her mind. Because he’d been hanging around this ranch for years, he sometimes took it for granted, but as he approached the two-story log house, he saw it as the eight kids might.

It was immense. A center section had been the first structure built when the grandparents, both deceased now, had settled here. As the family had grown to include their son, and later their three grandsons, they’d added two wings that were cantilevered out like arms reaching to embrace visitors.

The generous square footage was perfect for the new youth program because the extra bedrooms upstairs could be used as dormitory-style quarters. Two sets of bunks had been constructed in adjoining rooms to accommodate the kids. No matter how jaded Ace pretended to be, he had to feel deep down that he’d died and gone to heaven.

A wide front porch ran the length of the house, and it was lined with rockers. Sarah occupied one, and she held a mug of coffee in her hand. A second mug sat on the small table between her and an adjoining rocker.

As Nash mounted the steps, he couldn’t help thinking of Bethany’s more modest arrangement over at the Triple G. But she had the same gift as Sarah: an instinct for how to provide a relaxed atmosphere where two people could have a quiet conversation.

“Come join me,” Sarah said. “If I remember correctly, you take yours black.”

“I do, and thanks, Sarah.” He touched the brim of his hat in greeting. As a kid he’d called her Mrs. Chance, but somewhere along the line, after he’d passed thirty, she’d asked him to use her first name. He settled into the rocker and picked up his coffee.

She cradled her mug in both hands and looked at him. “I heard you’re likely to become our new neighbor, so I thought I’d confirm the news at the source.”

He’d figured that was why she’d called him up to the house. He should have expected Morgan to mention it to her husband, Gabe, who would have told Sarah. That was how things went around here, and Nash didn’t care. He knew they were all happy for him, and that was a good feeling.

“Apparently so,” he said. “Bethany thinks that will be easier than going through the listing process, and I’m not about to argue with her about that.”

Sarah laughed. “I should hope not. I was tickled to hear it. I know you want your own place, and I’m thrilled when one of my boys gets what he wants out of life.”

He loved being referred to as one of
her
boys.
His mother might bristle at that, but she’d realized long ago that Sarah had swept him into her family net. “It’s like a dream come true,” he said. “She’s willing to be flexible with the financing, and her original plan to renovate the Triple G isn’t so important now. I can work on it in my spare time.” He took a sip from his mug. The coffee, as always, was primo. Mary Lou, the Last Chance cook, saw to that.

“I don’t want to pry into your personal business, but if you need any financial backing to close the deal, just say the word. I’ve discussed it with Jack and we’ll be happy to cosign or loan you what you need.”

“Thanks, Sarah.” He gazed at her and thought what a lucky guy he was to have friends like these. “I hope I won’t need that, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Just keep it in mind.” Sarah beamed at him. “Have you told your mother?”

“Uh, no.” He realized that he probably should get on that ASAP. Maybe he was already too late. “Have you?”

“No, dear boy. I wouldn’t do that to you. But if you don’t tell her soon, she’ll find out from someone else, and then you’ll have hell to pay.”

“Good point.”

“I have a few things I need in town. Why don’t you take care of those errands for me and drop by the ice-cream parlor while you’re there?”

“Be happy to.” But his mind was racing. He didn’t want to confront his mother while he was involved with Bethany. Eagle-eyed Sarah had probably noticed a difference in him, but she wouldn’t think it was her place to ask questions. His mother, who liked to remind him she was the one who’d brought him into the world, would consider it her God-given right to interrogate him.

Sarah rose from her chair. “Come on inside. I’ll get my list. Bring your coffee. Mary Lou might have a few things she wants to add.”

Nash couldn’t shake the feeling that his personal relationship with Bethany, which he’d hoped to keep private, was about to become public. And it wasn’t only his privacy he was worried about. Bethany wanted to remain anonymous this week. Being romantically linked with him wouldn’t help her cause any.

Sarah led the way through the rustic yet elegant living room with its giant stone fireplace, sturdy leather furniture and Native American rugs hanging on the walls. A curved staircase built by Archie Chance rose to the second story, and a wagon-wheel chandelier hung from the ceiling.

The Triple G would never look like this because it hadn’t been built on the same grand scale. But Nash decided then and there that he’d put in a rock fireplace. Smaller, of course, but maybe that living room would no longer seem drab and soulless if it had a fireplace.

He’d change that and bring new life to the house with a cozy hearth and a blazing fire. He wished that Bethany would be able to see it, but she’d be long gone by the time he finished. He wondered if she’d want him to text a picture. Maybe not. Maybe she’d prefer they have no contact once she left Jackson Hole.

That was a depressing thought, so he pushed it out of his mind. If he walked into Mary Lou’s kitchen looking sad, she’d try to feed him. Much as he loved her food, he didn’t want to waste time hanging around the ranch kitchen when he should be making tracks for his mother’s ice-cream parlor.

He smelled lunch cooking as they walked down the long hallway that led to the good-sized dining room where the hands ate lunch every day. Breakfast and supper were prepared and eaten at the bunkhouse, but the Chance family believed in gathering the whole crew together for lunch.

Nash gave a lot of credit to that tradition and Mary Lou’s down-home meals for creating such loyalty among the hands. Mary Lou Sims had been in charge of the Last Chance kitchen for as long as Nash could remember. An independent woman in her mid-fifties, she’d remained stubbornly single until last summer, when she’d finally married the ranch hand everyone knew by his last name, Watkins. She’d kept her own last name, insisting she preferred the sound of it.

When Sarah and Nash entered the fragrant kitchen, Mary Lou had both ovens and three burners going. She moved quickly around the space with the precision developed over a thirty-year career. When she’d checked everything to make sure all was well, she turned to them with a smile, her wispy gray hair sticking out in all directions. “What’s up?”

“Nash is going into town and I wondered if you needed anything,” Sarah said.

“I expect you’ll be going by the Lickity Split,” Mary Lou said, “so you can tell your mother about buying the Triple G.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.” Nash felt like an eight-year-old being reminded of his chores. Only a few people could take that tone with him. Mary Lou was one and his mom was another.

“Then while you’re there, I’d like you to pick up three gallons of chocolate peanut butter swirl. I’m letting the boys have ice cream tonight, besides the popcorn. They don’t know that yet, so don’t tell them.”

Nash grinned. “I won’t. But that’s a nice touch. I thought Pete’s idea of setting up a screen and projector outside was brilliant. But adding in chocolate peanut butter swirl is even more brilliant. That might wipe the sulky expression off Ace’s mug, at least for a little while.” He almost wished he’d be there to see it, but he had a date with a carpet and a hot woman.

“That was part of my devious plan. I’m gunning for that Ace kid.” Mary Lou glanced over at Sarah. “Did you mention tomorrow night yet?”

“Not yet.” Sarah turned to Nash. “Morgan says Bethany’s very nice, and I have to agree with that assessment if she’s willing to work with you on financing that ranch. We’ve been remiss in not doing this sooner, but I’d like to invite her to dinner tomorrow night. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

Nash tried not to panic. It was only dinner. No big deal. Except he didn’t believe that for a minute. He should have seen this coming. Everyone on this ranch was dying of curiosity as to why he’d suddenly gone from Bethany’s handyman to the guy being offered the ranch on a silver platter. Knowing him as he’d been in the old days, they’d all jumped to the same conclusion.

It wasn’t the right conclusion, though, he told himself. He hadn’t seduced Bethany in order to sweet-talk her into selling him the ranch. She’d done the seducing. He’d even been afraid that having sex with her had ruined his opportunity to buy the ranch.

Fortunately it hadn’t, and she wasn’t offering it to him because they had fun in bed. At least he hoped to hell that wasn’t the reason. She’d told him that she didn’t want to risk selling it to someone who’d tear it down. That was her story and he was sticking to it.

Sarah peered at him. “Nash, is anything wrong? You look as if you’re in pain. Do you have a stomachache?”

“No, no.” He quickly ran a hand over his face. “I’m fun...I mean fine. I’ll ask Bethany about dinner. I’m sure she’d love it.”