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“He does have a protective streak.”

“Speaking of bears, Keith is the one you want to watch out for. I don't usually like my men hairy, but I would be willing to make an exception for that one.”

Mal blushed, remembering how Keith's hands heated her skin, how his hairy chest felt against her naked breasts.

“Oh, I see what's going on. Someone has a preference for the elder Carson.”

“No, it's nothing, it's—”

“Um, sister in the room!” Katie held her hands over her ears.

“It's nothing. I'm sure it's nothing.”

“Mal, everyone knows you're bonking my brother.”

“What do you mean everybody knows?”

“The two of you are wandering around grinning like lunatics, and suddenly you're not making any mistakes with the chores. I mean, you're learning,” she added quickly, when Mal started to protest. “But there's no way I could get away with half of the shit you do. Just don't make me slap you for breaking his heart.”

“I don't think he's in any danger. We're just . . .”

“Just sex?” Jack asked. “Spill it.”

“Sister in the room!” Katie yelled.

“It's not. I mean, it is, but it's not. He hardly speaks, you know? But he makes me feel, I don't know, warm I guess. Safe and protected—which is how I feel with Luke—but warm. And beautiful.”

They lapsed into silence, Mal thinking of the ways Keith could break her heart, Katie really hoping she would not have to hurt this nice woman, and Jack admiring his genius.

“OK, take a look.” He nudged her shoulder and she opened her eyes.

The blond was definitely gone. Her hair was short—shorter than Keith's even. But it looked . . . good.

“I decided to give you the whimsical pixie cut. You've got the cheekbones for it. And it brings out those brown eyes. You'll knock 'em dead.”

“Wow.” She ran her hand up the back of her neck, amazed at how light she felt. “Is it going to look like this in the morning?”

“No, darling, you are going to have serious bed head. But take this”—he handed her a can of mousse—“and just run a little through your hair, and you should be good. Minimal fuss.”

“Jack, she looks great! Mal, wow. That really suits you.”

“Thanks, Katie. It looks really . . . me.”

“Well, I am a miracle worker. Helps if you have a gorgeous canvas to work on, though.” Jack winked at her. “And now, ladies, your hero must go.” He quickly packed up his supplies and was out the door, leaving Mal and Katie to scramble behind him.

“What? Aren't you going to stay for dinner? Libby will want to visit.”

“As much as I would love me some of Libby's home-cooked deliciousness, my figure would not,” he said, pinching his waist. “Anyway, I have a date.”

“Who with? In town?”

“Someone who's none of your business.”

“Why does a gay man in a tiny redneck town get more dates than I do?” Katie asked as he left.

“Because I'm not blind to what's in front of me,” Jack shouted over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs.

“What's he yelling about?” Chase asked, coming in to wash up for dinner.

Katie looked at him, then turned away. “Don't you ever eat dinner at your own place?”

“Not when the company is so good here,” he said, pulling her ponytail. She slapped his hand away, then chased him through the house. They almost ran over Keith, who was coming in from the barn. Peanut, who only followed him when Mal wasn't nearby, tore after them. Libby hollered for Keith to control his dog, for Katie and Chase to stop acting like children and wash up for dinner, and for Cal to come to the table.

“Where's Mal?” she asked Keith, as if he would know.

“Here,” came a voice from the stairwell. Keith watched as she came down the stairs slowly, worrying her bottom lip. He stood there with his mouth open in surprise.

“Whoa,” he said on an out breath, then moved to greet her at the bottom of the steps. He ran his hand over the short hairs at the nape of her neck as if savoring the smooth yet sharp texture. He looked into her eyes, “Mal,” he whispered, cupping her face, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek.

Mal knew that look of Keith's already—he was going to kiss her. But his entire family was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, gawking. They seemed to fade as his face moved closer to hers. “You like it?”

“You look—”

She never did get to find out what he was going to say—Beautiful? Amazing? Delicious?—because he was barreled into her by a force from behind. Why were people always getting knocked over in this house? It was like a Benny Hill movie. It was, as usual, Peanut, who had clearly been apart from his new favorite human for too long. Since three legs made stairs a little difficult for him, Mal broke from Keith (the smart thing to do, surely), and bent down to love on her dog.

Her dog. Hmm.

Peanut gave her that little curious sideways dog look—she did look pretty different, after all—but apparently she still smelled like Mal, because Peanut was all up in her face, licking her. Mal laughed.

“Well, now you'll have to wash your hands again before dinner,” Miss Libby said, coming up and putting an affectionate hand on Keith's back. “Keith, sweetheart, take that mangy mutt out of here, and Mal, darling, you look gorgeous. A whole new woman.”

Mal fingered her hair self-consciously. “Thanks. I feel like one.”

Mal couldn't sleep. She kept running her hands through what was left of her hair, loving how light it felt, remembering how Keith had fingered the short ends and looked at her with—what, admiration? Desire? Definitely desire. But then he had barely looked at her all through dinner, and ran off afterward, mumbling something about work to get done. She had been hoping to talk to him about taking a look at the farm's books; surely she had proven herself at Dr. Monroe's office. And he seemed to hate paperwork so much. Mal was sure she could help, at least to set up a filing system he could live with. Although Mal admitted a little selfish motivation—she had poked her head in the office once or twice over the past weeks, and the place was a mess. She could definitely get her hands dirty in there.

There were other selfish motivations, too. Like what Keith could do with his hands while she was filing.

Well, maybe after she was done filing.

One week. It had been one week since their horseback ride, and she was still blushing when she thought about it. Sighing, she resolved to stop thinking about it. Obviously they had both been caught up in a moment. It couldn't mean anything. She was still married to Michael, although it was just a legality that did not seem to stop Michael from moving on. So why shouldn't she? Because she hadn't met anyone she wanted to move on with.

Until Keith. Mal wasn't such a fool to deny the powerful attraction between them, the one that had snuck up so quietly she barely noticed it. Just like Keith, quiet and powerful.

But she was starting to think it was one-sided. If his recent absences meant anything, he was probably stewing in his brooding, silent way about how to get away from the nuisance Luke had dropped in their laps.

Oh, don't think about laps,
Mal thought.

Mal was just finishing counting the cracks in the ceiling for the third time (still forty-three!) when she heard a tapping at the window. She froze up—she was on the second floor; what could that be? She looked down at the foot of her bed, where Peanut barked softly in his sleep.

“What a guard dog,” she said, throwing the covers off and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She snuck to the window in the ridiculous exaggerated tiptoe of Pink Panther movies. She peeled the curtain back half an inch, trying to see what was hitting the window.

It was Keith, standing under her window, throwing pebbles at the glass. She jerked her head back. Her heartbeat was going crazy—what was he doing outside the window?

“Mal!” she heard him whisper. He threw another pebble at the window, although this one was bigger than the others—it must have been, because with a night-shattering crash, the rock went through the glass.

“Shit,” she heard from below.

“Keith, what the hell are you doing?” Mal was still trying to whisper, even though the whole house was probably awake by now.

“Mal! Mal, are you OK?”

“Yes, I'm fine! Stop throwing rocks at me!”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“What the hell is going on out here?”

Cal had come around the house. Carrying his shotgun.

“Pop, it's me.”

“Boy, what the hell are you doing?”

“Throwing rocks.”

“Why are you doing a damn fool thing like that?”

“I'm trying to get Mal's attention.”

“Whatever happened to a phone call? Better yet, can't you wait until the morning? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Can't you talk to me from there?” Mal whispered from the window. If she got too close to him, she would forgive him for ignoring her, and she wasn't ready for that. If she got too close, she would forget all of the reasons she was supposed to stay away. Why was she supposed to stay away, anyway?

“Um, it's sort of private.”

“Are you just trying to make a move on me?”

“Yes.” She didn't answer. “Is that OK?”

Mal heard the screen door slam. Either Cal had gone back inside, or he was coming around the house to shoot them both.

“If you don't come down here, I'll come up there.”

“No, no, Peanut is up here. I'll come down.”

“Peanut is up there with you? Nice guard dog.”

“Hey, it's your dog,” she said, ducking back into the window.

“He doesn't act like my dog,” she heard him mutter.

Mal smiled, then shooed Peanut out of the room and started gathering layers, steering clear of the broken glass. She threw on a sweatshirt as she tripped down the stairs, and on the way out, grabbed the first coat she could find. She didn't know what Keith was up to, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to find out. She didn't know what was going on between them; had she ever felt a pull this strong to a man? Definitely not to Michael. She shook that thought out of her head. She would deal with Michael tomorrow. Tonight she would face the man waiting for her in the darkness.

 

 

Mal looked wary when she came out of the house. No surprise, really, since he had been avoiding her since their ride in the woods. But Keith had wanted to be ready the next time he came to her. He wanted to be the man she deserved, not a hollow shell. He was working on renewing his vet certification, starting to talk to Dr. Monroe about getting his place back. He was looking at some land closer to town; a man needed his own land. He had been packing up his old house, the one he had shared with Vanessa, storing the memories away and getting rid of the physical things he was holding on to because he didn't want to let go. He would always love Vanessa. But Mal had showed him another possibility beyond his half-life; she'd shown him that there was room in his heart for both of them, for the memory of Vanessa and for new experiences, to learn and grow with Mal.

It scared the hell out of him, and it scared him to keep it to himself. But he couldn't share all that with Mal yet, not when her future was so uncertain, and especially not when he hadn't said two words to her since they'd made love in the woods. But he knew she was worth the risk, worth working for, and if she was ready to be with him, he could show her that he had been ready all along.

Mal came toward him wearing what looked like every article of clothing she owned, with his dad's old coat over all of it. He could see her breath in the cold night air. She looked a little mad, but mostly curious. She looked adorable.

He was awkward and silent and probably creepy, just looking at her. Then she sighed and held out her hand. And that was that. He kissed her, and in that kiss, he felt all the love there was between them. He held her waist as she clung to his neck, but she kept slipping, so he moved his arms under her butt and hoisted her up so her mouth was flush with his.

He felt her shiver. “We should go inside,” he said, a little breathless.

“Sorry, oh, God, I'm so heavy. Put me down, we'll go inside.”

He kissed her quiet. “You're not too heavy.” When she started to protest, he kissed her again. “I'm strong, dammit.” And to prove it, he hiked her up higher on his body and kissed her again.

“I think your father is still out here.”

“With a shotgun.”

“Should I be nervous?”

“Only if you intend to take advantage of me.”

“Well, I was considering it.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, lowering her feet gently to the ground.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her around the backyard to his bunkhouse. He noticed she was limping.

“Sorry, did I step on your toes?”

“No, I twisted my ankle running out of the house like a crazy person.”

“Let me go look at it.”

“It's fine. Although we should do something about that window. I don't think your father realizes that you broke it.”

“OK, I'm going to board up the window before my father comes after me with his shotgun. Then I'm going to carry you inside and I'm not letting you out until we both are too limp too move.”

“Hmm.”

“You shouldn't bite your lower lip like that,” he said as he held the door open for her.

“I can't help it. Nervous habit.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“A little!”

“Because I'm so big and manly?”

“Yes, that's it.”

She continued to worry that lip.

“Mal.”

“I'm sorry! It's not even a conscious thing! I just get around you and I want to eat my own face!”

He raised his eyebrow.

“I mean, I don't know, you don't make me nervous usually, but in situations like this”—she indicated the bedroom—“the whole thing is a little, I don't know, intimidating, I guess.”

“I intimidate you?”

“Not you, specifically. Just, you know. Performance. Naked performance.”

She went back to the lip.

“Let me do that for you,” he said, leaning close and kissing her, pulling her lower lip between his. “I know this isn't going to make you stop worrying, but I'm just going to say it. And I'll keep saying it until you believe it. You have nothing to worry about, performance-wise or naked-wise. You get exemplary marks on both counts.”

“Are you grading me?”

“I'm going to spank you if you don't get on with it.”

She looked a little shocked (
and,
he thought,
a little interested?
), so he chased her around the bed.

 

 

Mal screamed and ran around the bed. She definitely wanted to be caught, and good thing, since she ran herself into the corner. She was cornered between the bed and Keith—not a bad place to be, really. She put her hands out in front of her. “Wait! Stop! What are you going to do?”

“I don't know yet. What do you want me to do?”

Mal was already breathless and he hadn't even touched her yet. “Um—”

“Too long. Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“If you can't decide what you want to do, I'll decide for you. I want you to take off your shirt.”

“Hmm. Bossy,” she said, but she complied. She took off one shirt—leaving a tank top on.

“I'm just getting started,” Keith said, noticing she wasn't wearing a bra. He could see her nipples getting hard under the white tank top she wore.

“Take off
your
shirt. Fair's fair.”

He reached down and pulled the hem of his shirt over his head.
He
wasn't wearing a tank top. Mal stepped forward—she just couldn't seem to look at that chest without touching it.

“Wait,” he said, stepping back. “Not yet. You still have too many clothes on. It's not even.”

Mal looked at him assessingly. She stepped back and shucked her jeans. “Your turn.”

Keith was surprised at that—very pleasantly so. He doubted his jeans would come off that easily. He bent down and took off his right sock.

“Hey! Cheating!” Mal had taken her socks off with her shoes. She was standing there in just her tank top and panties.

“OK, I'll give you one more.” He pulled off his other sock.

She lowered her eyes to his jeans. “Too chicken to take them off?”

“Why would I be chicken?”

“I'm not sure. Afraid I won't like it?”

“Oh, I know you like it. I remember. I remember how wet you were when I was inside you last time.”

Mal's eyes widened. She'd never heard Keith talk like that before; she didn't think he had it in him. She kind of liked it. She definitely liked it, if the current state of her panties was any indication.

“Well, it's not even. I'm standing here in my underwear and you're still decently covered in outerwear.”

“Barely,” he said, and her eyes went to the bulge in his pants. She licked her lips and she swore she saw it give a little jump. “Anyway, you've got a shirt on.”

“Barely!” she said right back at him, crossing her arms over her chest. He thought he would do just about anything to get her to stop covering those pretty breasts of hers.

“Fine, I'll be a gentleman,” he said, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

“Not fast enough,” she said, stepping forward and easing his jeans over his hips. If, while she was at his waist, she happened to also hook her fingers into his boxers and pull those down as well so he was standing stark naked in front of her, well, was that her fault? She was a cheater. She ran her hands up his sides, across his shoulders, coming to rest on his pecs, rubbing the rough hair there.

Keith grinned to let her know that she might be in a little bit of trouble. Well, she had cheated. She took a step back, then turned away, aiming to go over the bed to the other side.

But she only got one foot on the bed. She began to vault herself over, but Keith grabbed her around her waist.

“Where are you going?” He pulled her to him, and she felt every naked inch of him against her.

“Over there,” she said breathlessly.

“What are you going to do over there?”

Her nipples turned into hard pebbles against his palms.

“I forget.”

He kissed her neck, one hand holding her waist while the other moved down over her stomach. When he reached the hem of her tank top, he slid his hand under it, then up to cup her breast in his bare hand. He squeezed gently, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Mal moaned and arched into him, rubbing her backside against his erection.

“Mal.”

He pulled her hard against him, ripping her shirt over her head. Both of his hands went to crush her breasts, to crush her to him. She leaned into him, lifting her arms up and around his neck. She pulled his head toward her mouth, stretching around for a kiss. Her neck was straining as she tried to get closer, molding herself to him, getting inside of him. She opened her mouth wider, pushed her tongue against his, into his mouth.