Lead Me Home (13 page)

Matthew was reassured that Pete wouldn’t turn Jeff loose on the Last Chance community anytime soon. “He needs to get his act together before he’s allowed near the animals.”

“I agree.” Still standing, Pete picked up his wineglass and drained it. “Ready to call it a night, my love?”

“Yes.” Sarah drank the rest of her wine. “Now that the boys are all settled upstairs with their books and their video games, I’m ready to turn in.”

Matthew kept his expression neutral. He hadn’t realized that Pete sometimes stayed overnight with Sarah, but, just as with him and Aurelia, that was their business.

Sarah peered under the table. “Come on, Rodney. Time to drag yourself down the hall, big boy.”

The dog took his time getting to his feet, but once he did, he followed Sarah and Pete as they started out of the kitchen. “Good night, you two,” Sarah said over her shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late planning tomorrow’s menus.”

“We won’t,” Aurelia said. “Good night.” After giving them ample time to walk down the hall and continue on to Sarah’s bedroom, she turned to Matthew. “Ready for a little steak?”

“Among other things.” He drew her into his arms. “The guys kicked me out of the bunkhouse.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

He pulled her in closer and relished the feel of her body tucked against his and her arms wrapped around his neck. “They seemed to think I should be up here with you, instead.”

Her expression grew speculative. “They know something’s going on, don’t they? I could tell when I talked to Tucker.”

“Why? What did he say?” Matthew mentally crossed his fingers that no discussion of moaning had taken place.

“He just found it interesting that you took over Watkins’s bunk, and Watkins got involved with the cook. I think he sees history repeating itself.”

“Up to a point.”

“Right.” Her gaze was steady. “Up to a point.”

“So I can stay?”

“Did you bring more than one condom?”

“I did.”

She smiled and moved her hips suggestively against the bulge in his jeans. “Then yes, you can stay, cowboy.”

9

“
H
ERE’S MY IDEA
, now that I know I have you for the whole night.” Aurelia couldn’t believe her good fortune. She’d expected Matthew to say he had to leave in an hour or so. “Let’s do the menu-planning first and be done with it.”

“That’s a sensible idea.” He pulled her in tighter. “But I don’t feel like being sensible. I want to kiss you.” He lowered his head.

“No.” She wiggled out of his embrace. “I know what happens once you start kissing me.” She hurried over to a cupboard and pulled out a stack of cookbooks. “Here.” She shoved them at his chest. “Take these to the table.”

He laughed, but he accepted the cookbooks and laid his hat on the table. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have this out of the way so we can concentrate on…each other?” She glanced deliberately at his crotch.

He drew in a sharp breath. “You do know how to win an argument. I’ve been thinking about that under-the-table maneuver all day.”

“Liar. You’ve been training Houdini most of the day.”

“When I wasn’t training Houdini I was thinking of it.” He sat down and flipped open the first cookbook. “When do I get my steak? It smells wonderful.”

“I’m keeping it warm in the oven and I’ll give it to you once we retire to my bedroom.”

He glanced up, his gaze hot. “That sounded almost as if you plan to feed it to me.”

“I might, at that.” She noticed the cookbook he was paging through. “Forget about that one for now. The second one in the stack has the recipe I was considering. It’s on page fifty-two.”

He put aside the first book and thumbed through the second until he came to the recipe. “Beef with carrots? Seriously?”

“You don’t think they’ll like it?”

“They’ll love it, but I can’t believe you’d pick something so…basic.”

“Reverse psychology.” She sat across the table from him. “It’s only beef and carrots with some spices, but I’m going to tell them it’s
Boeuf avec carottes
and stick in some sprigs of thyme to make it look more exotic. I want them to realize that just because something has a French name doesn’t mean they won’t like it.”

“Brilliant. So are we done? Can we put these away, now?”

“I want to make stuffed turnips for dinner.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that will work.”

“It might, and I’m willing to take a chance. They’re getting Mary Lou’s chocolate chip cookies for lunch, and her chocolate pie for dinner, so I think it’s time to add something different, like stuffed turnips.”

“What are they stuffed with? Because if it’s goat cheese, I’ve heard about the goat cheese, and it’s not popular. The guys have a real problem with goat cheese, and I—”

“Matthew, Matthew.” She walked over and cupped his face in both hands. “Chill. It’ll be fine. There’s no goat cheese.”

He caught her hand and turned his head so he could place a lingering, erotic kiss on her palm. “Thank you.”

Just that one kiss, which didn’t even land on her mouth, and she was consumed with lust. But she tried her best to sound breezy and nonchalant, as if he hadn’t turned her into mush with one touch of his lips. If she intended to convince herself that she could handle this affair without getting sentimental, she had to master breezy and nonchalant.

“You seemed a little frantic regarding the goat cheese,” she said.

“Maybe it’s because they know we’re involved, so I’m afraid they’ll be watching for me to take a dive.”

That made her laugh. “Take a dive? You mean like let me make something outrageous because you’re sleeping with me and now have a conflict of interest?”

He gazed up at her. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I won’t do that to you, Matthew. The stuffed turnips are a little bit different, but not gag-me different. I’ll try to come up with something else to put with it that they’ll like.”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider hot dogs.”

“No, but…” She had an inspiration. “Forget the stuffed turnips. I’ll make pizza and put everything from the turnip recipe on the pizza.”

“Turnip pizza? I don’t think that’s a very good—”

“Trust me, Matthew. I’m starting to get the hang of the menu wars. It’s not so much what you do as how you sell it.”

He smiled. “That could be said for a lot of things.”

“I guess so.”

Reaching up, he stroked his knuckles over her throat and down to the V of her purple sleeveless blouse. “Like this button you left undone, for instance. It makes a guy think that when one button is unfastened, why not two?” He demonstrated his skill at that activity by slipping the second button free while still holding her gaze.

She wouldn’t have thought such big hands would be so adept at delicate tasks. Thinking of what else those hands could accomplish made her pulse skitter. “I suppose it could have that effect.”

“Just so you know, whatever you’re selling, I’m buying.” Still looking into her eyes, he undid another button.

“But you haven’t even inspected the goods.”

“Yes, but I intend to.” He slipped another button free and glanced down at the purple lace he’d uncovered. “Mmm. Very pretty.”

“Glad you like it.” She quivered with anticipation.

“Oh, and the bra’s nice, too.” Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against the spot just above her cleavage.

It was their only point of contact, and yet his moist, velvet touch sent waves of delight to the tips of her fingers and toes, and straight up to the roots of her hair. She closed her eyes as he made a slow circle with his tongue and blew on it.

“That’s
O
for orgasm,” he murmured. “I owe you one.”

If he continued this subtle but effective assault, they’d soon be even. Her panties were already wet. “Are we keeping score?”

“That wouldn’t be fair.” Glancing up at her, he slowly redid the buttons, including the one she’d left open on purpose because it gave a shadowy glimpse of cleavage. He’d been right about her motivation on that. “Given half a chance, I can rack up points faster than you can.”

“You think so, do you?” Her body tightened, wanting him to prove it ASAP.

“After last night, I know so.”

“Them’s bold words, cowboy.”

“I’ll bet a pocketful of condoms on it.”

She took a shaky breath. “The way you’re talking, you may not want to bother with that steak I have warming in the oven.”

He adopted a drawl. “Oh, yes, I do, little lady. It smells absolutely delicious, and I’m looking forward to having you serve me dinner in bed.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I see. But in order for me to do that, you’d have to actually be in a bed.” She could hardly wait to have this big muscular cowboy stretched out naked on a mattress.

“That’s true. Do you happen to have one handy?”

She stepped back and pointed. “Right through that door.” She’d put on clean sheets, folded them back and dimmed the lights. “I’ll bring your tray in shortly.”

“Excellent.” He stood and cupped the back of her head. “I’ll look forward to it.” Then he kissed her with enough tongue, heat and passion to leave her gasping as he walked through the door and into her bedroom. “Don’t forget I like it juicy and hot,” he called over his shoulder.

“Not a problem.” Both she and the steak would satisfy that requirement nicely.

* * *

M
ATTHEW STARTED STRIPPING
off his clothes the minute he stepped inside the room. Aurelia kept a neat bedroom, which didn’t surprise him, so he folded his clothes and laid them on a suede-covered easy chair in the corner by the window. The curtains were drawn, but two bedside table lamps, their bases made of carved wooden stirrups, cast a muted glow through shades created to look like leather.

Although Matthew had been perfectly happy sleeping in the bunkhouse, he’d be even happier sleeping—or not sleeping—in this little room. The comforter on the queen bed had a cattle-brand pattern and was turned down to reveal smooth white sheets. He hoped they wouldn’t be smooth for long.

As he undressed, he took stock of the Charles Remington paintings on the wall, the wagon-wheel headboard and the braided rugs on either side of the bed. The room had been decorated in Old West nostalgia, and Matthew loved it. As much as he enjoyed being on the move, there was something to be said for staying put long enough to create a personally pleasing room like this one.

She had an attached bath, which meant they were self-contained in this apartment off the kitchen. The setup felt cozy and sexy as hell. They could have some good times in this room while he was at the Last Chance.

Tucking a condom behind the lamp on the bedside table, he propped a couple of pillows against the headboard and climbed into bed. He pulled the sheet up and had to laugh at the tent effect. But he didn’t want her to laugh, too, so he added the comforter.

“Hot and juicy, coming up.” She walked through the door carrying a lap tray fragrant with the scent of roast beef. A glass of red wine sat on the tray, along with a slice of what he’d bet was homemade bread. But it wasn’t the food that made his mouth water.

In the midst of preparing his tray, she’d managed to reconfigure her outfit. She was minus the bra, and she’d left the blouse unbuttoned but tied at her midriff. Technically her breasts were covered, but not by much. Her jeans were gone, too, leaving only a purple thong between him and paradise. Her feet were bare.

He gulped. “You certainly know how to serve a guy dinner, Aurelia Imogene Smith.”

She turned and nudged the door closed with her shoulder before walking over to the bed. “You can pretend you’re in a private gentleman’s club.”

“No pretending necessary. I am.” When she leaned over to set the tray on his lap, he got an eyeful, which had a predictable effect.

“Matthew, I can’t get the tray to sit straight. Something’s…” She started to laugh. “Something’s in the way. I wonder what it could be?”

“Yeah, I wonder. You walk in here looking like a
Playboy
centerfold and then you want to set a bed tray down on my lap. That tray’s little legs aren’t high enough to accommodate the issue, Aurelia.”

She was laughing so hard she was threatening to spill the entire tray, juicy steak and all, onto the bed. He took it from her. “Let me handle this.” He set it next to him, making sure that it was steady before he let go. Then he climbed out of bed, erection and all. “You see what we’re dealing with here.”

Tears ran down her rosy cheeks. “Yes,” she said, gasping for breath. “And I have to admit I didn’t factor that into this dinner-in-bed concept. I just thought I’d give you a little thrill along with your meal.”

“Turns out it was a really big thrill.”

“I can see that.” She glanced at his rigid penis and clutched her sides in helpless laughter. “Maybe if we set some books under the legs of the tray, it won’t wobble and you can…” But she couldn’t finish the sentence because she was doubled over with the hilarity of it all.

He saw the humor in the situation, but it was his pride and joy giving her hysterics, and he’d rather have the woman he was with be struck with reverence and awe than practically rolling on the floor at the sight of… And that’s when he decided what to do.

Reaching behind the lamp, he located the condom and put it on.

She noticed, which was a step in the right direction. “Matthew?”

“I thought we’d be doing this on the bed next time.” With one arm around her shoulders and the other behind her knees, he scooped her up easily and laid her down on the braided rug. “But apparently not.”

She still had the giggles. “The floor? With a bed right there, you’re going to—” Her eyes widened as he stripped away her thong in one quick movement. “I guess you are.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His first thrust lifted her off the rug, but then he settled into a more gentle rhythm. And after that first protest, she didn’t seem to mind a bit that they were flat on the floor.

In fact, she got into it, wrapping her legs around his waist and rising to meet him with each stroke. Arms braced on either side of her shoulders, he gazed down at her, entranced by finally being able to look into her green eyes as they turned dark with excitement.