His palm enclosed hers in warmth and security, sending electricity up her arm to zing through her chest. She glanced down at his darker skin against her much smaller hand. While she was by no means petite, compared to Colt, she was small. Feminine. Her nipples peaked. Thank goodness she’d worn a bra today.
She had to get herself under control. One little kiss, and she was looking at Colton under a different light. One that included nude, moving parts. Although a part of her was beginning to think…what the heck. Why not make a move and take a chance?
The nurse broke her from her internal musings by calling her name and escorting them back into a doctor’s office with two leather chairs facing a massive teak desk. A plethora of diplomas decorated the walls along with a couple of pictures of the doctor holding a huge rainbow trout.
Dr. Jordan leaned forward, his gray eyes serious and matching his beard. “Please have a seat.” He smiled. “I didn’t realize you’d be here, Colton.”
Colt settled Melanie and then sat down. “I’m here for moral support.”
“Good.” The doctor paused to read papers in an open manila file.
Melanie’s pulse quickened, and a rock dropped into her stomach. She shifted uneasily.
Colton took her hand, and the world settled.
The doctor pushed his glasses up on his forehead as he finished reading. “None of the eggs were viable for cryopreservation. I’m sorry, Melanie.”
Cold washed through her. She blinked and then nodded. Pain lanced along her empty abdomen.
Colton leaned forward while keeping her hand. “Why not?”
The doctor steepled his fingers under his chin. “Tons of reasons. It might be premature ovarian failure, but I won’t know why or how without genetic research.”
“Even then, you probably won’t know, right?” Colt asked.
Melanie’s head was in a cloud as she turned his way.
“I researched fertility,” he said.
“Maybe.” The doctor’s glasses dropped back into place. “We may have harvested too early, however. We can try again, but I’m still concerned about the endometriosis. Even if we successfully harvest eggs, you have a small window where I believe you’ll be able to carry a child.”
“Right now,” Melanie said quietly. The emptiness in her grew to pain.
“More than likely, and you probably have about a five percent chance right now.” The doctor winced. “Although new treatments are coming forth every day for infertility and endometriosis. I wouldn’t lose hope.”
“Thank you.” She had to get out of there before breaking down. Tears choked her throat. She retrieved her hand and stood. “I need to think about options and will be in touch.” As if in a dream, a bad one, she hitched through the office and out the door. She was tough, and she could handle this.
A sharp wind slapped her in the face.
She made it about halfway down the walkway before stopping.
Colton stopped beside her and lifted her chin with one knuckle. “It’s okay, Mel. We’ll figure this out.”
It was the gentle tone that broke her. She burst into tears and barely had a moment to appreciate Colton’s oh shit expression before he gathered her close, tucking her into warmth and safety.
“I know I shouldn’t have hung my hat on cryopreservation, but…” She started crying harder, her face against his strong chest.
He held her easily, gently rubbing her back, his voice reassuring. A strong, masculine calm in the middle of a wild storm. “Let it out.”
So she did. Holding on, allowing him to shield her, she cried for the future she’d never have.
…
Colton half-pivoted to put Mel between the brick building and his body when the wind picked up in force. He kept his movements smooth and gentle, tamping down on pure frustration.
He’d stand between her and any danger, but he couldn’t protect her from this. Helplessness didn’t set well with him. At all. His mind calculated the way to fix things. To get her to stop crying. He had money, and he’d take her to every specialist in the world.
Winding down with a small shudder, she lifted her head.
Tears clung to dark lashes over her pretty brown eyes. Tracks showed on her smooth skin, and suddenly she felt small and delicate in his arms. Vulnerable. Emotion ripped through his heart with the force of an anvil.
He moved without thinking, stepping into her and covering her mouth with his. The kiss was supposed to be calming, to be gentle.
But as she moaned and pressed against him, his mind shut down. He stilled for one tiny second and then gave in. He fisted her hair, tilting back her head, and went deep. Sweeping inside her mouth, taking, claiming.
Need roared through him, and he grabbed the back of her leg, lifting against his hip and pushing her against the brick. Pressing his cock against the heated apex of her legs.
She sighed deep in her throat and rubbed along his length, tilting her hips for better friction. He had to get inside her. Now.
His hand was on her breast before he remembered where they were. Who they were.
He levered back, his breath panting, his chest heaving.
Shock and desire comingled in her dark eyes. His gaze dropped to her swollen, pink lips, and he groaned. He’d give everything he owned to have those wrapped around his cock. Just once.
She gasped and let her foot drop.
A couple of ladies passed by behind him, twittering.
Red bloomed across Mel’s smooth cheekbones. He stepped back, his brain swirling, his dick trying to punch through his zipper.
She swallowed. “M-my hair.”
His hand was still clamped in her hair. Slowly, he disengaged, trying not to pull. She winced as he untangled himself.
He should be a gentleman and apologize. The words stuck in his throat. While he may be feeling a lot of things, sorry wasn’t one of them. Not even close. But he retreated and gave her some room.
A myriad of expressions crossed her face, and he read each one clearly. He’d always been able to read her, even when she hadn’t wanted him to. Desire, confusion, embarrassment, need…every emotion he was feeling flickered in her eyes.
He took a deep breath. “I promise I’ll fix this, Mel. Trust me.”
Chapter Eight
Trust me. Melanie shook her head as she left the coffee shop in town the next day. The man was certifiable—there was no way he could fix her situation. He’d driven her home the previous night, and they’d each stayed lost in their own thoughts. The silence had been heavy with way too much thinking, but neither had broken it.
He had to be regretting attending her appointment and then kissing her. Of course, it was the emotion of the moment. No way did Colt want more from her than friendship.
But he sure hadn’t kissed her like a friend.
Loni Freeze stepped out of Millard’s Mercantile across the street and waved. “Hi, Melanie.” Hustling across the quiet road with several packages under her arms, the woman smiled. “What’s up?”
Melanie grabbed a package before it hit the slushy ground. “Nothing. Just wandering and thinking.”
Loni scrunched her nose. With her smooth skin and dark hair sprinkled with gray, she looked too young to have two grandchildren with another on the way. “About anything in particular?”
Melanie shrugged. “About everything.”
“Ah, I’ve been there. Sometimes you just have to relax and let your subconscious take over.” Loni eyed Paul’s Pizza Joint, which proudly took up several window fronts next to the mercantile. “Let’s grab pizza and figure this out before it starts snowing or raining or sleeting again.”
On cue, Melanie’s stomach rumbled. “Okay.” She followed Loni into the restaurant, and they agreed on a loaded veggie pizza.
Loni yanked out her phone and typed in letters. “Let me text Soph
ie to see if she wants a pizza. The poor woman is going crazy on bed rest.”
Melanie smiled. “I’m sure. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her rest.” The blonde was a whirlwind.
“Yeah—she’s struggling, but that baby will be worth it. I have to say, being the grandmama is a lot easier than being the mom.” Loni took a sip of her iced tea. A glint of amusement lightened her dark eyes.
Melanie probably wouldn’t be either. She swallowed and tried to smile. “I bet.”
Loni’s eyes softened, and she reached out to pat Mel’s hand. “Everything will work out, sweetheart. I promise.”
Melanie flashed back to the third grade when Loni had stepped in. “Do you remember that teacher, Mrs. Simpson? My third grade math teacher?”
Loni sniffed. “I would hardly call that woman a teacher. She sure didn’t last long here.”
No, she hadn’t. Melanie had been staying with the Freezes while her grandfather was on a cattle run, and she’d brought home a math paper with some pretty harsh grading and a request for Melanie’s guardian to visit the teacher.
Loni had dressed to kill in a business suit and accompanied a quaking Melanie to the school. Then she’d politely waited until Mrs. Simpson, a twice-divorced redhead who spent more time on the single male teacher-parent conferences than anyone else in the history of the school, finished complaining how Melanie couldn’t concentrate on numbers and just daydreamed. That maybe she should be put back to the remedial math program of the previous grade.
Melanie, dressed in her best Sunday-school dress, had hung her head, ashamed Mrs. Freeze would realize how dumb she was.
Then Mrs. Freeze had let loose.
Without raising her voice, without using swear words, Mrs. Freeze had calmly explained if there was a problem, it was with Mrs. Simpson’s lazy, irresponsible approach to teaching, which was more in line with speed dating. If Mrs. Simpson wanted to catch husband number three, trolling in the elementary school was the wrong tack.
It had taken Melanie several days to figure out what trolling meant.
Then Loni had expressed, in great detail, how intelligent and hardworking Melanie was, and that she would someday be highly successful. Loni had wound down with strongly encouraging Mrs. Simpson to try harder as a teacher.
There may have been a veiled threat or two in there, but Melanie didn’t read between the lines for several years.
They’d marched out of the school with both of their heads held high. It was in that moment Melanie figured out two things: one, Colton had the best mom in the whole world. And two, she’d never be alone. She was safe.
Then they’d spent several afternoons after school learning multiplication in a way that involved horses, cookies, and hair barrettes. Melanie had gone on to excel in math and even took college math classes while in high school.
Even years later, Loni was Melanie’s hero. Melanie smiled. “You took care of Mrs. Simpson, didn’t you?” The woman certainly had the clout to get a teacher removed.
Loni shrugged, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t know what you mean.”
“Thanks for standing up for me.”
“Your grandfather would’ve done the same thing if he’d been in town, although, I do have my own style.” Loni laughed. “Plus, you were a great kid, and that teacher was rotten.”
It was nice to have people in her corner. Melanie had missed the fun times at the Freeze house when she and Colton had gone their own ways as teenagers. Somewhat, anyway. Colton and Hawk had always been her backup, even when they’d all been dating other people. “Thanks.”
Loni leaned back as the pizza was brought to the table. “No biggie. So, how are you holding up?”
“Good.” She realized it was true. Sharing her problems and bawling all over Colt had actually made her feel better. “I wish the whole town didn’t know, but…oh well.”
“Ah, sweetie. The town always knows.” Loni slipped slices onto their plates. “It’s good that you and Colton are there for each other. I like that.”
Melanie took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Warm, gooey cheese landed in her stomach, and she sighed in pleasure. “By the way, have you heard anything about a bet involving Colton and me?”
Loni coughed and quickly took a sip of iced tea. “Bet? What bet?” Her eyes opened wide.
“Oh, come on.” Melanie snorted. “You’re terrible at bluffing. Please tell me you haven’t actually bet.”
“Of course not.” Loni grinned. “I wouldn’t jinx things that way.”
Now that was just sweet. Loni had never hidden her affection for Melanie nor her wish that she and Colton would get together. She’d also never meddled or tried to push them together.
Melanie sighed. “How much is the pot?”
Loni leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I heard the kitty is at about five grand.”
Melanie gasped. “Are you joking?”
“Nope.”
“Who’s the bet taker?” Melanie asked.
Loni shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know.”
Yeah, right. The town always knew.
…
Colton drove into town and slid into a slush covered parking slot before unfolding from the truck.
“Colton.” Mrs. Hudson emerged from the coffee shop, her gray wool coat swallowing her, and a bright pink knit scarf wrapped around her neck several times. “Do you have a minute?”
He hustled toward the elderly lady. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” Last night he’d already apologized for the mix-up with Melanie.
Mrs. Hudson slipped her bony arm through his. “We can chat while you escort me toward my car.” Her worn boots matched her scarf, and he made a mental note to make sure she got some new boots before next winter. Maybe he should find her some rain boots for the rest of spring. Yeah. Good idea.
“I’d love to escort you.” He angled his body to protect her better from the wind. The woman lived at the end of Main Street and had driven three blocks instead of walking. Rain or snow, the woman normally walked, probably so she didn’t miss anything on the way. “I noticed you drove instead of walked today. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, I felt like a drive today. Plus, it’s going to sleet, and I didn’t want to get caught.” She twittered and patted his arm. “You’re such a fine young man. My niece, Beatrix, is visiting at the end of the week, and I was hoping you’d take her out and show her the town.”
The woman had always been a matchmaker. He smiled. “That’s kind of you, and I appreciate your thinking of me, but I have plans.”
Mrs. Hudson slowed down. “Well, she’ll only be here two weeks, and I have to admit, she’s quite easy.”
He coughed out air and glanced down at tight, gray curls. “Excuse me?”
She looked up and squinted faded blue eyes. “Beatrix. She gets around, a lot.” Mrs. Hudson shrugged. “I thought you two might have some fun for a couple of weeks before she leaves. Just two weeks.”
Colton stopped. What in the world? Realization smacked him in the face stronger than the wild wind. “Mrs. Hudson. You wouldn’t have entered a bet regarding Melanie Jacoby and me, would you have?”
Mrs. Hudson brushed invisible lint off her coat. “Of course not.”
Colton bit back a laugh. “Tell me the truth, or I’ll go propose to Mel right now.”
Mrs. Hudson gasped, her head shooting up so she could meet his gaze. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would,” Colton said.
“Fine.” Mrs. Hudson sighed. “I have St. Paddy’s Day as my date, and I sure could use the money, Colton Freeze. If you’d just declare your love that day, I’d really appreciate it.”
He couldn’t believe she’d tried to bribe him with a slutty niece. Mrs. Hudson was a pimp. He laughed. “I will certainly keep your date in mind. Who’s taking the bets and keepi
ng the money, anyway?”
“Can’t tell you,” she said sadly. “When you make the bet, you have to swear not to tell, or you forfeit your money.”
When he found the bet taker, he was going to kick some ass. “What happens if your chosen day passes?”
“You get to make a new bet.” She tugged him back into moving toward a blue compact with new tires. “Then you give new money and have to make the promise again.”
“Those are lovely tires, Mrs. Hudson.” Colton escorted her around to the driver’s side.
“Thank you. I won the raffle for new tires at the sheriff’s station,” she said proudly, opening the door and slipping inside the driver’s seat.
Quinn had made sure she won after having bought the tires for her in the first place. “You’re a lucky one,” Colton said.
She nodded. “Have a nice day, Colton, and remember who covered for you in the fifth grade when you picked flowers from Mrs. Leiton’s garden. She’s still wondering who took her prized tulips, and as you know, she has a terrible temper.” Shutting her door, Mrs. Hudson drove down the street at least ten miles under the speed limit.
Good lord. Mrs. Hudson was a blackmailing pimp.
Chapter Nine
Melanie gave one last chance at arguing with Loni about the check for lunch. “It was my turn to pay.”
“I don’t think so.” Loni stood and then stopped. “Oh. Colton’s here.”
Melanie turned, still in her seat. Colton had obviously been working the ranch, dressed in faded jeans, cowboy boots, a dark T-shirt, and a black Stetson. As he strode toward her, he looked more sexy villain than smooth good guy.
Hence the black hat.
Heat spiraled into her abdomen.
He kept his dark blue gaze on her, but he kissed his mama on the cheek.
Loni patted his arm. “I have an appointment, but I think Melanie was considering dessert.”
No, she hadn’t been.
“Good.” Colton took Loni’s vacated seat and removed his hat. “We need to talk anyway.”
Loni all but beamed as she exited the restaurant.
Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection Page 41
