I Cross My Heart (6 page)

“That’s okay. I did.”

“You did? When?”

“During dinner, when I began to realize that we might end up like this.”

“And what were your conclusions?”

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. “Before we talk about that, let’s get dressed. We have things to discuss, and I don’t know about you, but I’ll think better if we both have clothes on.”

She groaned. “Exactly. That’s what I mean about not considering everything. I didn’t realize that having sex tonight would mean we’d want to have it the rest of the week. Speaking strictly for me, of course. Maybe you don’t—”

“Sweetheart, I definitely want to have sex all week. Never doubt it.”

“But that presents a problem.”

“Don’t worry.” He kissed her once more. “We’ll work it out. I have an idea.” He left the bed, headed into her bathroom and switched on the light.

She hoped he wasn’t blinded by all that pink. Sitting up, she swung her legs to the floor. “What idea?” she called out.

“I’ll tell you once we’re both dressed.”

“Sorry it’s so pink in there.” She stood and stretched. Wow, she was one satisfied woman.

“I can handle pink. Put on some clothes and I’ll meet you in the dining room.” A familiar squeak indicated that he’d turned on the faucet in the sink. The ancient pipes set up a racket, clanking and rattling until he turned off the water. “Good Lord. You need a plumber.”

“I know.” Feeling daring and sexy, she walked over to the bathroom and leaned against the doorjamb. “Have I found one?”

He met her gaze in the medicine cabinet mirror and grinned. “Lady, you’ve found yourself a jack-of-all-trades, master of none.”

And there she was, ready to swoon again. “I can think of one thing you’re a master of.”

“Oh, yeah?” His grin widened.

“Mr. Bledsoe, you did indeed turn this girl inside out.”

His grin faded as heat flickered in his blue eyes. “Glad to hear it. Now get out of here before you end up sitting on this pink counter with your legs in the air while I do you.”

That visual prompted a burst of shocked laughter. “I don’t know if I’d bend that way.”

“You’d be surprised what you can do when you’re highly motivated. But the vanity’s so old we might break the damned thing. So get some clothes on. Please.”

She hesitated, torn between finding out what his idea might be and experiencing bathroom-counter sex with him. She didn’t really care if they broke the vanity.

“Go!”

That was when she noticed that he was gripping the edge of the counter and had stepped back a little to make room for his growing erection.

“I really want to have a conversation with you.” His tone was mild but his jaw twitched. “We need to be clear on a few things before we do this again.”

“Right.” She turned, hurried back into the bedroom and snatched up her clothes. She’d dress in the kitchen, away from temptation. The intensity of her craving for Nash, and his for her, was exciting. Scary, too.

He was right, though. They needed to be clear on a few things so that both of them would come out of this okay. No matter how glorious their sex life might turn out to be, it had a shelf life of one short week.

6

N
ASH
DIDN
’
T
WANT
TO
TAKE
the time or deal with the discomfort of a cold shower, and he had some mental tricks for taming his buddy. Going through sports stats usually helped. But sure enough, his uncooperative brain superimposed the stats on Bethany’s naked body.

Once the image popped into his head, it wouldn’t leave. The stats rolled like movie credits, sliding over her breasts and down her tummy. Then they came to rest on...okay, stats weren’t working for him tonight.

Maybe he should imagine himself in some crappy situation, like getting his truck stuck in the mud. Ah, mud. He pictured Bethany wrestling with him, her body slippery and agile until he finally pinned her and they had squishy, erotic sex.
Nice job, Bledsoe. Your cock is now harder than an ax handle. What else you got?

With a loud curse, he stepped over to the shower and turned on the cold water. The clanking pipes covered the sound of more cussing as he subjected his overheated body to an icy spray. But it did the job.

He needed his wits about him when he made his offer to buy the ranch. Thinking of sex with Bethany might distract him and screw up the discussion before it had reached the conclusion he wanted. He also couldn’t forget to tell her she was free to change her mind at the end of the week.

Knowing he had to add that part made him nervous, but it was the only fair way to approach what was a big decision for both of them. In fact, pushing her to decide tonight was neither fair nor smart. He should give her time to think about it.

After drying off with her very pink towel, he hung it back where he’d found it and walked into the bedroom to get dressed. The door into the kitchen was closed, but a light shone underneath. From the sound of dishes being scraped in the kitchen and the aroma of coffee brewing, he figured out that she wasn’t waiting patiently in the dining room like he’d told her to. He should have known she wouldn’t meekly follow his directions.

Well, good for her. Whenever he was agitated, like now, he had a bad habit of giving orders. Lindsay had called him on it, and in that area, she’d been absolutely justified in criticizing his behavior. Although he’d been working on that character flaw, apparently the luscious Miss Grace had stressed him to the point of reverting to his old bossy self.

After pulling on his briefs and jeans, he sat on the edge of her little bed to tug on his boots. During that operation he realized what a disaster he’d made of her bedroom. She’d had it fixed all neat and tidy, and he’d flung pillows and linens every which way. She brought out something in him that no other woman ever had, and he’d be damned if he knew why.

At first he’d been intrigued with the idea of storming the castle that was Bethany Grace, motivational guru. Mission accomplished. She’d even said so. Yet instead of proclaiming mission accomplished and resting on his laurels, he wanted more.

Everything about her—the softness of her skin, the shape of her mouth, the luster of her hair, the curve of her hips, the scent of her body—drove him bat-shit crazy with lust. That hadn’t happened to him before, not ever. He’d been attracted to women and enjoyed them immensely. He’d fallen in love, or thought he had, with Lindsay.

But this—this was something else. Maybe it was the ticking clock affecting him. No matter what, she’d be gone in a week. It could be that old scarcity model. Because she was only available to him a few hours a night for one precious week, he felt a sense of urgency, a need to make the most of it.

Whether or not they would act like crazed bunnies this week depended mostly on the outcome of their upcoming discussion. Originally he’d planned to talk about this over a bottle of wine. As he buttoned his shirt and tucked it into his jeans, he smiled.

The wine had served a different function, and he wasn’t sorry. No matter what happened from here on out, he wouldn’t ever regret what they’d just shared. As they said in sports, tonight was one for the record books.

After buckling his belt, he turned on her bedside lamp so he could straighten the room a little. He didn’t put it all back the way she’d had it because he couldn’t remember exactly how it had been and he wasn’t much of an arranger. But he draped the top sheet and comforter over the bed and piled on the pillows so they were no longer on the carpet.

Finally, he walked to the door and opened it. She stood at the sink, her hands deep in soapsuds. He’d halfway expected her to leap for the light switch because earlier she’d been so insistent that he not see the shabby kitchen.

But she stayed where she was and simply turned her head to smile at him. Once again, he didn’t notice his surroundings at all. All he could see was her.

It was one of those moments that would stay with him for a long time. Although she was dressed in her sleeveless white blouse and gray capris, the clothes were rumpled from being on the floor. Knowing why they’d been on the floor made the outfit sexier than a negligee.

She’d finger-combed her hair, but she had some little cowlicks going on in back, no doubt caused by sweating and tossing her head around each time he made her come. She had no makeup left, but her flushed cheeks and bright eyes indicated that she was a woman who’d recently enjoyed some very good sex.

And perhaps the most appealing thing of all, the part of the presentation that made him long to wrap his arms around her and never let go, was her decision to have this discussion barefoot. Something about that implied trust. He was touched, turned on and wholly captured by this woman. He’d be wise not to let her know that, because then their situation could get really dicey.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“Love some.”

“Brownies?”

“My favorite. Don’t tell me you baked today, on top of everything else you did.”

“Nope.” She let the water out of the sink and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands. “I knew this would be a rough week, so besides buying groceries in Jackson, I hit a bakery and stocked up on goodies.”

A rough week.
Right. She’d just lost her father. Some people handled grief by getting it on with the nearest available partner. Well, if he served that purpose for her, he didn’t really mind. It wasn’t as if the sex could lead to anything, anyway.

He glanced around the kitchen. “What can I do?”

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a white bakery box. The scent of chocolate came with it. “Carry these into the dining room. I could arrange them on a plate, but—”

“No need to dirty another dish.” He took the box she gave him. “I’m happy to eat right out of this.”

“Good. Me, too. Do you take anything in your coffee?”

“Just black.”

She laughed. “I suppose that’s the cowboy way.”

“It used to be, but if you look in the bunkhouse refrigerator you’ll find all kinds of flavored creamers. Cowboys have gone soft these days.”

“Except for you.”

“Yes, ma’am. Nothing about me is soft.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Listen to you! Weren’t you the one who wanted to have a strictly platonic discussion? And now you’re bringing up the subject of your hard body, which naturally leads to thoughts of your hard—”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” But he wasn’t, not really. He had fun teasing her. “You’re right. I’ll go into the dining room with the brownies and promise not to say anything suggestive for the next...oh, let’s say twenty minutes.”

“We can complete our discussion in twenty minutes?”

“I’d like to.” He exited to the dining room through the open pocket door. “Because then we can move on to other more exciting activities.”

“Nash.”

“What?” He set the box on the table and turned back toward the kitchen. “I meant things like checking over the property and discussing repairs. That kind of exciting.”

“Sure you did.” She came in carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. “I’m having flashbacks to high school when I used to hear you and your buddies in the halls bragging about your...attributes.”

“They bragged.” He fought to keep from laughing. “I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, my God. You must need a wheelbarrow to carry around that ego.”

“Let’s just say that my athletic cup had to be custom-made.” That was a complete lie, but he managed to tell it with a straight face.

“It did not.” She set down the mugs at their respective places and peered at him. “Did it?”

He started to laugh. “No, it didn’t. I told you earlier that I’m standard-issue.”

“I would disagree with that claim.”

“You would?” He was male enough to enjoy hearing that.

“Now you’re fishing.”

“Can’t blame me for that. You’re my first in many moons. It’s nice to hear that I’ve still got what it takes.”

She gazed at him thoughtfully. “How many moons?”

“Well, I’d have to count, but I haven’t had sex with anyone since Lindsay.”

Her eyes widened. “How long have you been divorced?”

“Technically, about twenty-four hours. But I left Sacramento last August. The legal process dragged on for months, but the relationship ended last summer.”

“And you haven’t dated anyone since you came back?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to give myself some time.”

“I wish I’d known.” She blew out a breath. “I mean, you’re Nash Bledsoe. Naturally I assumed that you’d come back here and pick up where you left off.”

“First of all, those women are all married now, and second of all, why do you wish you’d known?”

“I would have thought twice about having sex with you, in case you might attach too much importance to it.”

That stung, even though he understood why she’d said it. She was a psychologist, after all. “I’m not an emotional cripple who needs coddling, Bethany. When I went into that bedroom with you, I knew the score. You’ll be gone next week. In some ways, that makes you the perfect rebound woman. You can help me get my groove back without any complications.” He sounded extremely convincing, if he did say so himself.

She seemed taken aback. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but that makes perfect sense.” She sounded almost disappointed, though.

Interesting. “I told you I’d considered the ramifications.”

“So you did. And you have a plan to propose.”

“I do.” He moved to her chair. “Have a seat. Let’s find out if my persuasive abilities extend beyond the bedroom.” He helped her into her chair and walked around to his.

“This feels like a business meeting.”

“That’s because it is.” He sat down and picked up his mug of coffee.

“I’ve never done business with a man who’s seen me naked.”

He smiled at her over the rim of his mug. “That only serves to make the deal more interesting.”

“You’re a man of many roles—cowboy, handyman, deal maker.”

“Don’t forget
superlative lover.
”

“As if I could. I don’t know if I can talk business with someone who gets my panties wet.”

He almost choked on his coffee. He swallowed the hot liquid and stared at her. “Now?”

“Of course. I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs. You give me that special glance and, whoosh, my panties are wet.”

“I probably shouldn’t be happy about that, but I am. I might have had that effect on other women, but they’ve never told me.”

“Trust me, Nash, you’ve had that effect on other women. I can guarantee it. For whatever reason, they were too proud or too shy to let you know. I’m not too proud or too shy, although normally I can be both. It must be the multiple orgasms that have loosened my tongue, along with every other muscle in my body. You’re better than a deep tissue massage, my friend.”

He allowed himself to bask in the admiration shining in her gray eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And although I can’t imagine doing business with someone who’s recently had his head between my thighs and his mouth on my hoo-ha, I’m dying of curiosity about this deal of yours.”

He grinned at her. How could he do anything else when she was so completely adorable? He hoped she’d go for the concept, but if not, he’d had an unforgettable experience being here tonight.

He took another sip of his coffee and considered how best to broach the subject. In the end he decided on simplicity. “I want to buy the Triple G.”

She blinked. Clearly this wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. “Oh.”

Now that it was on the table, his heart thudded with anxiety. He wanted this more than he’d realized. “I don’t have a big down payment, but if you require more than I have, I may be able to borrow some from Jack. There are programs for first-time homebuyers and I should qualify. It’s not as crazy as it sounds. I’ll figure out the money part.”

“I’m not worried about—”

“If you sold to me, you wouldn’t have to be so concerned about how the property appears to a prospective buyer. I know how it looks, and I don’t care. It’s a nice size for starting out, and it abuts the Last Chance, which belongs to one of my best friends. The location is awesome for me.”

“So you’d live here?” The idea seemed to bewilder her.

“That’s generally what a person does when they buy a place, unless it’s strictly for investment. I want to live here. I want to build it back up, get horses, maybe a goat or two, and—”

“A goat?”

“Sure. There’s this one goat at the Last Chance named Hornswaggled, although we all call him Horny. He’s an amazing animal. If we have a horse that’s acting up, we put Horny in the stall for a few days, and the horse settles right down. He has a special friend named Doozie, a mare that Gabe bought, but he’s a calming influence on all the horses. Yep, I’d definitely invest in at least one goat.”

She continued to stare off into space, as if she couldn’t comprehend having him buy this place. And yet she’d been planning to sell it all along, so it couldn’t be the idea of selling that had her so distracted. No, it had to be the idea of selling it to
him.

Although he still wasn’t sorry about having sex with her, he had a tiny regret that he hadn’t mentioned the possibility of buying the ranch before they’d walked into her bedroom. He’d been about to say something when she’d taken the bull by the horns and admitted to craving his body. Some guys might have managed to refuse that offer, but he hadn’t.