Just Once (36 page)

I look down as he positions himself and slowly pushes inside. My tender muscles quiver, straining to accommodate his thick cock. His thumb circles my clit as he forges ahead, and I sigh and force myself to relax until he’s in to the hilt.

“You’re so tight,” he groans into my ear.

“You’re so big.”

“Right again.”

I laugh, but it’s immediately cut off when he pulls out and slides back in. Shane begins to thrust—deep, languorous strokes that touch every part of me. Soon I’m slippery and moaning, and he’s pushing in harder, faster, his tongue mimicking his cock, fucking my mouth. I groan and suck him in, wanting him everywhere, feeling everything.

He hooks his elbows under my knees and pulls up my legs, opening me farther, grinding us together. My clit can’t take the pressure and I lose my breath, gasping as the tremors build, so swift and unforgiving that all I can do is arch my back and let them drag me under. My inner walls clasp Shane tightly, milking him, pulling him deeper, demanding everything.

He thrusts impossibly hard, answering the request, shouting his release as he comes inside me. I feel a sudden wet heat between my legs and clutch him tightly, unable or unwilling to let go. When he shudders one last time, we’re both breathing hard. I can feel his heart beating against my chest, the echoing thud of mine, his sweat-damp hair on my temple.

Eventually he eases out, and as my body struggles to release him, I realize he was wrong that day on the hike when he told me I wasn’t used to fucking. The truth is, I wasn’t used to making love.

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
HINGS
R
EACH
A C
OMFORTABLE
, happy status quo around the ranch. Summer is winding down, and there are just two weeks left in the season. Once the last guests leave we’ll take a few days to prepare the cabins for winter, then everyone will go their separate ways before the cold comes. I’ll head east, Shane will head west, and everything will be fine. Fine and dandy.

I’m in the process of purposely not thinking about this when Hailey raps loudly on the open door and walks in. “What’s going on?” she demands.

I’m making the beds in cabin eight and look around for the answer. “Should I know what you’re talking about?”

“Shane’s on a rampage. What did you do?” That last line is a joke, but I can tell from the look in her eyes that the first part is not.

We hurry out of the cabin and around to the front of the lodge just in time to see Shane storming from the barn into his trailer. He slams the door so hard behind him that it bounces back open.

I have no idea what’s happened to make Shane upset. I’m not so conceited as to think it’s me, but I’m not willing to approach the trailer right now either. A second later the choice is made for us when Shane stomps back out to slam the door again, stopping when he sees us. We freeze like deer waiting to be run over—
Move, fools!
—and instead of retreating inside, he stalks over to us.

“What do we do?” Hailey hisses.

“Act invisible.”

Shane’s shoulders are tight, his cheeks are flushed, and I can almost see steam rising from his neck as he approaches.

I’d like to make a joke to ease the tension, but my mind is blank. “What’s wrong?” I say instead.

He takes a deep breath, clearly trying to calm himself but not succeeding. “Connor just met the ranch’s new owners.”

My entire body goes numb. Yes, I knew the ranch was for sale, but my shock at this news is genuine. “What?” Hailey and I ask in unison.

“Yeah. Some yuppies from fucking Maryland who want to turn it into an eco spa. An eco spa!” He nearly shouts the words. “Goddamn rich idiots who think they know how to run a business because their GPS told them how to find it.”

My heart is pounding. Guilt will do that. “When is this happening?”

“As soon as possible. This is our last season. Everything will be sold, I assume. All the horses, all the land…It’s gone.”

My face is burning. I knew this was in the works, and I didn’t say anything. I could’ve done something. I could’ve tried harder. If I’d just told Shane maybe he could’ve done something. Maybe he had a plan.

I feel terrible, and I feel even worse when I see he’s next to tears. I reach out to touch his arm, but he shifts away. “I’m really sorry, Shane.”

He forces a smile to take away the sting of his rejection. “It’s not your fault. I’ll find you later, okay?”

Hailey and I nod, and he returns to the trailer, closing the door with a little less force but just as much finality.

“Oh God,” I breathe, resting a hand on the rail so I don’t topple over. My knees are weak and my vision is blurry. I am a horrible, horrible person.

“What?” Hailey asks.

“I have to talk to them.”

“To who? Kate?”

She calls after me, but despite my shaky legs I’m already running down the road to Hank and Mary’s small house. I pound on the door and let myself in. “Hank!” I call. “Mary?”

“Kate, is that you?”

I find them sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. “Did you do it?” I ask, hand trembling as I steady myself against the wall. “Did you sell the ranch?”

They look at each other. They look almost as guilty as I feel. “Pretty close,” Hank admits. “There are still a few details left to work out.”

I skip the accusations, the self-righteous reminder that they were supposed to tell me when they’d found a buyer—they promised!—and get right to the point. “Please don’t do it,” I beg. A tear slips out the corner of my eye, and I wipe it away. “Don’t sell them the ranch.”

They look pained. “Kate…” Mary begins.

I see the photo album sitting open on the counter, their dreams of rest and relaxation just a few signatures away. I know their decision has nothing to do with me, nothing to do with Shane. And technically, it’s none of my business. But still I hear someone talking, someone completely crazy—the kind of crazy that only makes sense to other crazy people.

“Sell it to me instead,” I hear myself plead. “Let me buy the ranch.”

“You coward,” Stanley says again.

“You don’t have to convince me,” I mutter. “I know.”

“You have to tell him.”

“I know!”

“He’s probably in his trailer right now, crying his heart out, thinking his precious ranch is gone forever when really it’s right where it should be.”

“It’s not right where it should be, Stanley! It’s with me! This is not my dream. It’s Shane’s dream, and I bought it. I
bought
it!”

“It was for a good cause, like a charity.”

“That’s a terrible way to phrase it.”

“You’re right. More like…a placeholder.”

I slump onto the milk crate. “A placeholder. That’s it exactly. I’ll buy it now, and then in ten years when Shane has the money, I’ll sell it to him. In the meantime he can run it like he wants to, and nothing has to change.”

“There you go.”

“Except…”

“You still have to convince him of all that?”

“Uh-huh. Stanley, you have no idea how he gets about money. When we go out to eat, he won’t let me pay for anything, and he keeps asking if the places we go are nice enough for my ‘tastes’…”

“Did you tell him you’ve eaten scorpions?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Cockroaches?”

“No! That’s not going to help. Then he’d become convinced I’m bored with him and could never be happy.”

“That man is crazy about you.”

“We’ll see how crazy he is when he finds out what I’ve done.”

“I mean it, Kate. He’s got some control issues—”

“No kidding.”

“But he wants to make you happy, and buying this ranch, for him, makes you happy.”

“You’d think. Instead I’ve got a bottle of antacid next to my bed and my hair is turning gray.”

Stanley gasps. “Do it now.”

“I will.”

“Today.”

“Today?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t you dare call him again, Stanley.”

He laughs. He’s already gotten an earful about his whole “ask about Jamaica” shtick. “I won’t.”

I sigh. I feel sick. “I’ll do it after lunch,” I say. “We’re supposed to hang out…I’ll tell him then. He’s going to hate me.”

“He’ll get over it. You’re there for good now.”

“That’s just it, though, isn’t it? I’m not sticking around. I mean, this place closes up for the winter, and in two weeks there’ll be nothing left for me to do. I’ll have to come back in the spring, but it’s probably going to be so I can hire a new foreman.”

“I’d do it.” Stanley sounds genuinely interested.

I can’t help but laugh. “You might be hired.”

We hang up, and I walk over to the dining room for lunch, though I’m not remotely hungry. It’s Sunday and several staffers are sitting around, cobbling together sandwiches from the supplies Mark and Alec set out. I join Hailey, Lisa, and Matt and chew halfheartedly on a piece of bread, trying to focus on the conversation.

My appetite disappears completely when Shane and Brandon walk in, and if Hailey’s sudden aversion to her sandwich is any indication, she’s lost interest in eating too. She and Matt are still together, and Matt appears completely oblivious—or just not interested in—the friction between Hailey and Brandon, though if anything the tension has grown.

Shane nods at me but tips his head toward Brandon to indicate he has to sit with his friend, and because Brandon can’t sit with Hailey…It’s junior high all over again. We even gossip about them sometimes late at night when we can’t fall asleep.

I’m so distracted I don’t hear Gina the first time she calls me. Hailey kicks me under the table to get my attention, and I jerk toward the hallway where Gina is waving.

“Kate,” she repeats. “Phone call for you. I think it’s Kevin Drew again. He says it’s urgent.” She disappears back down the hall, and though the dining room activity never slowed, I’d swear all the sound and oxygen in the room vanished with those words. My gaze flickers to Shane, who’s staring at me across the room, brows drawn in hurt and confusion.

I shake my head, though what message I’m trying to convey—
Don’t be mad? I’ll explain later? It’s probably a wrong number?
—I don’t know. To make sure things really look bad, I scurry out of the room with my head down and rush into the back office to slump into the seat and pick up the extension. I know why Kevin’s calling me, but his timing could not be worse.

“Hey,” I say. “Now’s not a great time.”

“It won’t take long.” He’s in business mode, his smooth voice crisp and efficient. “I have a few things I need to fax over for you to sign, but I wanted to make sure you were near the fax machine so they don’t end up in the wrong hands.”

A shadow falls over the desk, and I look up to see Shane looming in the doorway.

“Okay,” I say into the receiver. My voice is hasty, guilty. “Send them.”

I hang up and stare at the phone for a long moment. I haven’t quite planned my I-bought-the-ranch speech, and I don’t know how to begin.

Shane takes a step inside and shuts the door. I don’t know why I didn’t close it, or maybe I do: he would have followed anyway. Nothing can keep Shane away when he wants something, and likewise, nothing can bring him back once he’s gone. And I know I’ll lose him when he learns what I’ve done. The final two weeks we could have spent together will be lost, strained and awful like before.

He doesn’t come any closer, just stands by the door, arms folded across his chest, face blank. His dark eyes tell another story, however, flashing with hurt and anger. I’m sure my intensely guilty behavior hasn’t helped matters.

“Why is he calling you?” he asks when I make no move to speak or get up. Outside I can hear the fax beep, signaling a transmission.

I run a hand through my hair. “He’s my financial advisor,” I mumble finally. So much for new and improved Kate. I’m acting like a guilty teenager, and there seems to be nothing I can do about it.