Jake (27 page)

At his words, Cory walked a little taller, the smile on his face dazzling. When they approached the barn, Cory paused and turned toward the door.

“You spending the night with your colt, boyo?”

“Yeah…yes, sir.”

Big Jim smiled broadly. “Sleep tight then. And listen to your mama’s voice in your head, boyo. You do that, you’ll never go wrong.”

With a thoughtful look, Cory let himself into the barn.

Jake turned out the lights when he hit the driveway leading to Meg’s ranch. If the intruder was watching from the safety of the woods, there was no point in broadcasting his arrival.

Up ahead, the house was ablaze with lights. The sight of all those windows gleaming in the darkness brought a grin to his lips. Meg talked a good game, and he had no doubt that she wanted to prove to herself that she could bravely handle these problems without asking for help. But she wasn’t about to do battle in darkness.

He brought his truck close to the back porch before turning off the ignition.

Setting his rifle beside him, he touched the button that lowered the back of his seat until he was reclining. He pulled his hat over his face to blot out the glare of the porch light and settled in for another uncomfortable night.

Not that it mattered. After the day he’d put in, first with Meg and Cory in town, and then seeing to the needs of half a dozen nearby ranchers—with everything from an injured horse that had required surgery to a herd of cattle that would have to be quarantined until the cause of their fever could be identified—Jake knew he could fall asleep anywhere. Even standing in a corner of a barn, with nothing but the rough boards of a stall for support.

It was his last thought before sleep claimed him.

Meg shed her filthy denims and tee and stood under the warm spray of the shower, scrubbing the cobwebs that had snagged in her hair. Wrapped in a towel, she made her way to her room and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a cami before blowing her hair dry.

The photo albums of her father in his younger days were neatly stacked on her dresser. She’d gone over every page, giving herself time to drink in the sight of him when he’d been a wild, reckless youth, in search of his destiny. It pleased her so much to see something of the man she barely knew. It was yet another side of the Porter Stanford that had been denied her.

She looked at photos of her father and mother together. The gown she’d found upstairs had been her mother’s. The smiling faces peering at her from the albums had warmed her heart.

She descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Tea, and the last of Ela’s corn bread, would be just the thing to take with her to her father’s office. Though she was tempted to sleep in her own bed, she wanted to be downstairs in case the nighttime visitor decided to pay a call.

She thought about Cory’s baseball bat residing on her father’s desk. She hoped she wouldn’t need to use it.

As she stepped into the kitchen, she caught sight of the truck’s outline parked alongside the porch. Her hand leaped to her throat before she recognized it as Jake’s.

It took her several deep drafts of air before her breathing returned to normal, along with her heart rate.

She filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

Then, because she couldn’t bear the thought of Jake sleeping in his truck another night for her sake, she yanked open the back door and marched outside.

Jake was having a weird dream. Meg had followed Flora’s cat, Nippers, into the diner’s cooler and had somehow become trapped inside, and nobody could find the key. Flora was pacing back and forth from her kitchen to the counter and back again, worried that poor Meg and Nippers had already frozen to death because nobody could get to them.

Jake kicked in the door, only to find a second, stronger steel door barring his way. With Flora weeping and wailing, Jake started pounding on the door, asking Meg to knock if she could hear him.

He heard the faint knocking, and felt a wild surge of relief. She was alive.

Cory came racing up and handed Jake a key, which unlocked the door. Meg fell into his arms, and they embraced. But before he could carry her out of the cooler, the knocking started again.

Louder.

Then louder still.

He jerked awake and shoved his hat away from his face.

It took his sleep-fogged brain a moment to register the fact that Meg was standing outside his truck, tapping loudly on the window.

He opened the door and gaped at the sight that greeted him. Meg’s hair was long and loose, spilling around a face devoid of makeup. She was barefoot, and wearing only a pair of boxers and a skinny little camisole that hugged every dip and curve of her body. Such lovely dips and curves, he thought with a sexy grin. Who would have ever guessed that the brainy lawyer hid such a luscious body under those very proper business suits he’d seen in the videos of the trial?

He actually had to shake his head to be certain he wasn’t still dreaming. Was this Meg or a vision?

As if to answer his silent question, the vision shimmered and spoke.

“I said, why don’t you come inside? I’ve got the kettle on, and I think there’s still some of Ela’s corn bread.”

He snatched up his rifle and followed the vision up the steps and into the house.

Heaven help him. If he was still dreaming, he never wanted to wake up.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The shrill whistling of the teakettle greeted them as they stepped into the kitchen. Meg yanked it off the burner and set it aside.

“Tea or coffee?”

Jake blinked at her terse question. “Coffee.”

“Fine.” Meg started to measure coffee, but in her agitation she spilled it all over the counter. She tossed it aside in disgust and turned on him with a frown. “Jake Conway. You can’t keep this up.”

“What—?”

Before he could say a word she was across the room, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You can’t do ranch chores and take care of other people’s animals all day, and then spend all night in your truck watching over me like some avenging angel. Look at you.” She paused to study him, from the lean denims to the plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His eyes were still heavy-lidded from sleep, his lips curved in that killer smile that always destroyed her.

A jolt of pure lust slammed into her. Without realizing it, her voice softened. As did her eyes. “I mean, just look at you, Jake. You’re practically dead on your feet. What am I going to do with you?”

“Point me toward a bed?”

Her anger deflated on a deep sigh. “Take your pick. There are three bedrooms upstairs, and all of them empty.”

“Which one are you sleeping in?”

She nodded toward the doorway. “I plan on staying in the office.”

“Okay.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and shot her his sexiest smile. “I can manage that.”

Her whole body tingled from his touch, but she was determined to ignore it. “I sleep alone.”

“Fair enough. But it’s what we can do before you fall asleep that takes two.”

“Nice line, Conway. But it’s not working.”

“I must be losing my touch.” He kept his arm around her shoulders as he inched her along the hallway. Once inside her office he paused to set his rifle in the corner of the room. When he straightened, he put both hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “How about a quick good-night kiss before I pass out?”

Her lips curved in the slightest hint of a smile. “You’re good, Conway. And very clever. But I’m not falling for any of your tired lines.”

“I forgot.” He slapped a hand to his forehead. “You’re that jaded, big-city lawyer who’s heard it all before. Let’s see if I can come up with something new and unusual.”

His hand snaked out, catching her by surprise. “How about this?”

Before she could form a response he dragged her close and kissed her long and slow and deep.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an invasion of all her senses. She couldn’t think when he was kissing her like this. Couldn’t seem to make her mind function at all. Her brain cells were slowly turning to mush.

The kiss softened to an invitation she couldn’t refuse. She had no choice but to return it with an invitation of her own.

Jake drew her fractionally closer, changed the angle of his head, and kissed her again, all the while backing her across the room until they abruptly bumped into the wall.

As they slowly surfaced, he plunged his fingers into her hair, combing it back and staring deeply into her eyes. Eyes that looked as dazed as he felt.

“Conway—”

“I know. Too rough. I’m sor—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Jake, I’m trying to tell you—”

“I know. I need to head upstairs. Just give me a min—”

She framed his face with her hands and forced him to look at her. “Shut up and kiss me, cowboy.”

“But—”

“Right now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless. And then, for good measure, he kissed her again, slowly, thoroughly, pouring himself into it with such intensity that she was actually vibrating with need.

With her lithe body pressed to his, he could feel her in every part of himself. All the blood seemed to drain from his head to pool in a certain portion of his anatomy with throbbing insistence. And still the kiss spun on and on as they practically crawled inside one another’s skin.

“I love kissing you, Jake,” she managed to breathe inside his mouth.

“You call that a kiss? I can do better.” To prove it, he ran nibbling kisses down her throat and buried his lips in the sensitive little hollow at the base of it before trailing hot, wet kisses across her shoulder to the tiny strap of her camisole.

With his teeth he drew the strap down her arm before moving his mouth ever so slowly across her collarbone to the other side to do the same.

The cami slipped free, baring her breasts.

When Jake cupped them in his palms, she made a sound like a half sob before arching her neck to give him easier access.

“Meg, you’re so beautiful.” His mouth followed his hands to caress, to kiss, to nibble and tease, until she felt her knees go weak.

She was frantic to touch him the way he was touching her. She reached a hand to the buttons of his shirt and nearly shredded it in her haste to tear it away.

With a laugh he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside before kicking off one boot and then the other. She had her hands at his waist and was about to help him out of his jeans when he managed it by himself.

She suddenly stopped and simply stared.

He had the body of a Greek god. All lean, hard muscles honed by a lifetime of ranch work. He was so sexy, so unbelievably gorgeous, he quite simply took her breath away.

She stood perfectly still as his hands moved over her, stripping aside her boxers and camisole, and dropping them at her feet.

Despite the sexy grin that curved his lips, his eyes were narrowed on her with such intensity, she couldn’t help shivering.

“There’s a sofa across—”

“Too far.” He reached for her and dragged her against him.

“But the floor—”

“—will have to do.” He was on fire. Every part of his body burned for her, and he knew that he had to touch her, taste her, take her, right this minute, or simply go mad.

His hands weren’t quite steady as they framed her face before claiming her lips. His fingers tangled in her hair as he drew her head back and nearly devoured her with his kisses.

Meg’s arms encircled his neck. She was as eager, as hungry, as he. With her hands in his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp, he could feel her little moans of pleasure as her body arched toward his, urging him to take her.

It was all the invitation he needed.

He lifted her, wrapping her legs around him, driving her back against the wall.

His hands moved over her at will now, savoring all that hot, firm flesh that was his for the taking. And he took, with a need that staggered him, feasting on the curve of her jaw, the soft, sweet column of her throat, and lower, to the full roundness of her breasts. He nibbled and suckled until she cried out and begged for release. He brought his hand between their bodies and found her, hot and wet, and brought her to the first crest. With her breath coming in hard, short gasps, he gave her no time to recover as he took her up and over yet again. And still he held back, keeping his own release just out of reach until he knew he could wait no longer. The beast inside him was fighting to be free.

There was no gentleness, no tenderness, in him as he drove himself into her. She responded with the same wild, primitive need, her body taking him in, closing around him, driving him half mad with desire.

They took each other on a frantic climb, and an even more desperate ride across the heavens.

When they reached the very edge of the world, they seemed to hang suspended in space until at last their bodies convulsed in a shattering climax that had them clinging together, their breathing harsh and ragged, their bodies slick with sheen.

Jake pressed his forehead to Meg’s and fought to quiet his strangled breathing, his wildly beating heart.

As his world slowly settled, he continued holding her against him. He was grateful for the wall behind her. Without it, they might have slid to the floor.

“Sorry I was so rough.”

She placed a palm to his cheek. “Were you?” She managed a dry laugh. “I guess we were both too greedy to take our time.”

“If you’ll give me a do-over, I promise next time I’ll be slow and tender. You deserve that, Meg.”

“A do-over?”

“Um-hmm.” He nibbled her lips. “Slow and tender. Promise.”

She pressed her mouth to his ear and almost purred. “I guess I could be persuaded. Would you like to start now, or do you need time to recharge your engine?”

He threw back his head and laughed. Oh, she was such a delightful surprise. If he’d expected haughty recriminations, or words of regret about their out-of-control lusty romp, he was oh so wrong. “Baby, my engine is always charged and ready. So if you’ve got the time, I’ve definitely got the energy.”