The Buckhorn Brothers Box Set: Sawyer\Morgan\Gabe\Jordan (13 page)

Sawyer stared at her, blank-brained for just a moment, then he surged to his feet. Damn, if she was asking him if sex was really all that vigorous, he didn’t think he could suffice with a mere verbal answer. Surely a woman as sexy, as attractive as she would already know! Damn her, she plagued his brain with her contradictions, her looks earthy and sensual, her behavior so modest. Bold one minute, timid the next.

He stared down at the lake for long moments, trying to get himself together and fight off the surge of lust that swamped him. He heard her stand behind him.

“Sawyer?”

“What?” He didn’t mean to sound so brusque, but it felt as if she were killing him and his resolve by small degrees. Torturous, but also extremely erotic.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her tone was hesitant and shy, and he prayed her question wouldn’t be about sex. He was only human, and she was too much temptation.

He looked at her over his shoulder and tried to dampen his frustration. “What is it with all these questions? I thought your throat was sore.”

“It is. But your family is so different, so special. It’s the way I always thought families should be. I’ve enjoyed hearing about them. And I have had a few things vexing my mind.”

A grin took him by surprise; she sounded so worried. “Vexing you, huh?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Turning, he gave her his full attention. The setting sun did amazing things to her fair hair and her blue eyes while making her skin appear even smoother. It was still hot and humid outside, even though it was evening, and she’d removed his shirt. He could visually trace the outline of her breasts beneath the T-shirt, the full shape of them, the roundness, even the delicate jut of her nipples. His abdomen pulled tight in an effort to fight off the inevitable reaction in his body, but he still felt himself harden. He could see the narrowness of her midriff, the dip of her waist. She hadn’t tucked the T-shirt in, and still the flare of her hips was obvious and suggestive.

She shaded her eyes with a small hand and blurted, “Why did you kiss me?”

Taken completely off guard, he blinked at her. After a moment, he said, “Come again?”

“Earlier.” She bit the side of her mouth and shifted nervously. “When you kissed me. Why’d you do it?”

She had to ask? He was thirty-six years old, had been kissing females since he was twelve, and yet none of them had ever asked him such a thing. Trying to figure out what she was thinking, he countered her question with one of his own. “Why do you think I did it?”

She looked so young when she turned bashful. He wondered at the man who’d given her up, who hadn’t really loved her, as she’d put it. Sawyer had already decided he was a damn fool. Now, seeing her like this, he was glad. She deserved better than a fool, better than a man who’d be stupid enough to let her go.

He stepped closer, so tempted to kiss her again, to show her instead of tell her about her appeal. But he knew it wasn’t right, that he was taking advantage of her situation and confusion. She stared down at her bare feet. “My sister always told me I was pretty.”

He wanted to see her eyes, but no matter how he willed it, she wouldn’t look up. “You’re very pretty. But I hardly kiss every pretty woman I see.” And in truth, he’d known women much more beautiful. They simply hadn’t interested him; they didn’t draw him as she did. “Besides,” he added, trying for some humor, “your face is bruised, and your lips are chapped, and there’s dark circles under your eyes.”

“Oh.” She touched her cheeks, then let her hands drop away with a frown.

He waited while she thought about that. “Alden used to tell me I was shaped…okay.”

“Okay?”

She gave a grave nod. “Men can be…enticed, by physical stuff, I know.”

She was attempting to sound blasé, and he barely held back his laugh. Alden must have been a complete and total putz. She was much better off without him. “Honey, you’re sexy as hell, and sure, to some men that’s all that matters, but again—” He gave a philosophical shrug.

“You don’t kiss every sexy woman you see?”

“Exactly.”

She licked her lips, and her expression was earnest, if reserved. “So then why did you?”

Very softly, he admitted, “I shouldn’t have.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Her cheek was sun-warmed beneath his palm as he tilted up her face, determined to see her eyes, to read her. Besides, he couldn’t seem to
not
touch her. “What’s your real question, sweetheart?”

Her eyes darkened, and the pulse in her throat raced, but she didn’t look away this time. She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the next. “Did…did you think since I was available, but determined not to be here too long, you could just…you know. Have a quick fling?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. But she amused and delighted him with her every word—when she wasn’t provoking him and pricking his temper. She was both the most open, honest woman he’d ever met, sharing her feelings and emotions without reserve or caution, and the most stubbornly elusive, refusing to tell him any necessary truths. “Anyone who knows me could tell you I’m hardly the type for a quick indiscreet fling, or any kind of fling. But certainly not with someone who didn’t want the same.”

She looked startled. “You think I don’t want—”

Interrupting that thought seemed his safest bet. “I don’t think you know what you want right now. But it surely isn’t to be used.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m human, and I get restless like any other man. But I have a reputation here, and a lot of people look up to me. I have to be very circumspect.”

She stared at him, her expression almost awed that such sanctimonious words had escaped his mouth. He felt like an idiot. “Honey, I’m sorry, but I just can’t—”

She took an appalled step back. “I wasn’t asking you to!”

His mouth quirked again, but he ruthlessly controlled it. “When I get too restless, there are women I know
outside
of town who feel just as turned off by commitment as I do. They’re content with physical release and no strings.”

Her mouth formed an O.

Feeling aggrieved, he explained, “They’re
nice
women, who are content with their lives, but they get lonely. The world being what it is, it’s not easy to find someone respectable who isn’t looking for marriage. We suit, and it’s simple and convenient and—”

Her face was bright red. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten into this.

“I see. So you…indulge yourself with these women you don’t really care about. But I don’t fall in that category?”

His teeth clicked together. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to haul her up close and nestle his painful erection against her soft belly. He shook his head, as much for himself as for her. “You most definitely don’t fall into that category. You’re young and confused and scared. You’re not from around here and you don’t know me well enough to know I have no desire to remarry. And that’s why I said I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a determined step away. “It won’t happen again, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

She drew a long, considering breath. “I wasn’t worried. Not really. I just wasn’t sure…” She bit her lip and then blurted, “Most of the time you don’t seem to like me very much. You feel responsible for some dumb reason, and you’re kind enough, but…I just wasn’t sure what to think about the kiss.”

She obviously had no experience with aroused men, to mistake his personal struggles for dislike. And no sooner did he have that thought than he tried to squelch it. It was dangerous territory and would lead him into more erotic thoughts of what he’d like to show her, and just how much he liked her. Instead of explaining, he said, “I’d like you a whole lot more if you’d stop keeping secrets.”

She got her back up real quick, turning all prickly on him. “We agreed we’d talk in the morning.”

“So we did.” He was more than ready to let it drop before he dug himself in too deep. “Why don’t you head on in.” If she stood there looking at him even a minute more, he was liable to forget his resolve and gather her close and kiss her senseless—despite all the damn assurances he’d just given her. These uncontrollable tendencies had never bothered him before; now he felt on the ragged edge, like a marauder about to break under the restraint. The things he wanted to do to her didn’t bear close scrutiny. “You look ready to drop,” he quickly added, hoping she wouldn’t argue.

Sighing, she turned to go in. “I feel ready to drop.”

Sawyer followed her through the door. The cold air-conditioning was a welcome relief as it washed against his heated skin. It may be evening, but summer in Kentucky meant thick humidity and temperatures in the nineties, sometimes even through the night.

Honey came to an abrupt halt beside the bed and stared at the fresh linens. “Someone changed the bed.”

“I did. I figured you’d want clean sheets.”

She gave him a querulous frown for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, then sat on the edge of the mattress and reached for the cat. Until she did so, Sawyer hadn’t realized the cat was back. Her calico coloring made her blend perfectly with the patchwork quilt.

Honey lifted the cat onto her lap and stroked her, being especially careful with her bandaged tail. “So I know you won’t kiss me again, but I still don’t know why you did in the first place.”

Watching her pet the cat mesmerized him—until she spoke, breaking the spell with her unsettling question. He didn’t want to answer her because he knew it would somehow complicate things further. But she had that stubborn, set look again, and he figured she wouldn’t go to bed until he satisfied her curiosity. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her while searching for the right words. “I kissed you because I couldn’t seem to stop myself.”

“But why?”

He growled, “Because you’re quick-witted and sweet and you have more courage than’s good for you. And you’re stubborn and you make me nuts with your secrets.” Almost reluctantly, he admitted, “And you smell damn good.”

She stared up at him, bemused. “You kissed me because I annoy you with my stubbornness and…and my
courage?
”

He gave a sharp nod. “And as I said, you’re smart and you smell good. Incredibly good.”

“But I thought—”

“I know what you thought.” She’d complained about smelling like the lake when to him, she’d smelled like herself, a woman he wanted.

He started to ask her why she’d kissed him back, because she had. She’d nearly singed his eyebrows with the way she’d clung to him, how her mouth had moved under his, the way she’d greedily accepted his tongue, curling her own around it.

He shuddered, then headed for the door, escape his only option. Somehow he knew he’d be better off not knowing what had motivated her. “I won’t sleep in here tonight, but if you need anything just let me know. I’m using the front bedroom.”

She rushed to her feet. “I hadn’t thought…I didn’t mean to chase you out of your own room!”

There was so much guilt in her face, he slowed for just a heartbeat. “You didn’t chase me out. I just figured since you were already settled…”

“I’ll switch rooms.” She took an anxious step toward him. “You shouldn’t have to be inconvenienced on my account.”

He hesitated a moment more, caught between wanting to reassure her and knowing he had to put distance between them. “It’s not a problem. Good night.”

She started to say something else, but he pulled the door shut. Truth was, he liked knowing she was in his bed. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to sleep there again without thinking of her—and dreaming.

7

T
HE HOUSE
was eerily quiet as she slipped the bedroom door open, using only the moonlight filtering in through the French doors to guide her way. Though she hadn’t lied about being exhausted, she hadn’t slept. The clean sheets no longer smelled of Sawyer’s crisp, masculine scent. She’d resented the loss.

She listened with her ear at the crack in the door, but there was nothing. Everyone was in bed, as she’d suspected, probably long asleep. She pictured Sawyer, on his back, his long body stretched out, hard, hot. Her heart gave an excited lurch.

He’d kissed her because she was smart.

And sweet and stubborn and…She’d wanted to cry when he’d given those casual compliments. She’d almost married a man who’d never even noticed those things about her, and if he had, he wouldn’t have found them attractive. For him, her appeal had been based on more logical assets, what she could bring him in marriage, her suitability as a partner, the image she’d project as his wife.

Occasionally he’d told her she was lovely, and he’d had no problem using her body. But nothing he’d ever done, not even full intimacy, had been as hot, as exciting, as Sawyer’s kiss. God, she’d been a fool to almost marry Alden.

Her father had once claimed she could have any husband she wanted based on her looks and his financial influence, neither of which she’d ever considered very important. Sawyer couldn’t be interested in her father’s influence, because he didn’t know about it and didn’t need it, in any case. And from what he’d said, he didn’t find her all that attractive. She smiled and touched her cheek. She was a wreck, and she didn’t even care. He’d kissed her, and he’d told her she smelled good, and he liked her wit and stubbornness and courage. Such simple compliments that meant so much. Without even realizing it, he’d given her a new perspective on life, a new confidence. She’d no longer doubt her own worth or appeal, thanks to his grudging admission.

She knew she had to leave before she threw herself at him and begged him to pretend she was one of the women from outside of town. Every time she was around him, she wanted him more.

She’d left a note on the bed, made out to Sawyer and sealed in a bank deposit envelope she’d found on his dresser. It was a confession of sorts, explaining how she felt and part of the reasons she had to leave. It was embarrassing, but she felt she owed him that much, at least. She knew he wouldn’t be happy with her furtive defection, but from what he’d said, he’d be even less happy if she lured him into an intimacy he was bound and determined to resist.