His Heart

by Laney Powell

  “All the time. No one likes to think they got busted,” Carissa laughed, and her laughter sounded like music. “But my boss is good about not making me publicly known.”

  As far as you know, I thought. “So what brings you here?”

  Her demeanor instantly changed. Like, night and day. But she mustered up a smile, trying to cover up the worry. Maybe I’d get it out of her. Whatever it was, that was why she was here.

  “Well, my, well, my ex, he moved out, and I had to move out as well. Since I’m between homes,” she continued brightly, “When Gran told me she needed help, I thought it was the perfect time to help her.”

  “Why did he leave?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich and hoping I didn’t appear too interested.

  “He decided he didn’t want to have a life together anymore,” Carissa said, her mouth turning down.

  Hmmm. There was more there. I could feel it. That was interesting. She was recently out of a relationship, and that was an area ripe for a rebound. But did I want to rebound with Carissa? This level of interest on my part at least felt like something more.

  “There’s a lot of that going around,” I said.

  “Really?” Carissa didn’t look convinced.

  “Recently divorced, right here,” I jabbed my thumb at myself.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” her eyes widened.

  “I’m not. I mean, I am,” I felt kind of stupid. “But she decided that she didn’t like all the changes I was dealing with. I guess that means we didn’t have what I thought we did.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, matter-of-fact.

  “I am sorry,” she repeated. “I get it. I was apparently blind as well.”

  We smiled at one another then, and I felt that jolt of electricity, a connection that went beyond the desire I’d been feeling with her. We shared something—even if it wasn’t the most positive thing.

  As we finished lunch, Carissa got up. “I should get back to work,” she said.

  “Thanks for having lunch with me,” I smiled, feeling better than I’d felt in a long time. I put the dishes away, and cleaned up, and even though I fumbled with the plates a bit, I noted that her eyes never looked down at my arm. Mostly because she was looking down, avoiding my gaze, and I could see that the tops of her cheeks were pink.

  “Thanks for feeding me. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Carissa looked up, and her cheeks pinked even more.

  I wanted to go to her, and take her in my arms, and kiss her. Kiss away that insecurity that I could see, that ball of hurt that her jackass ex had left her with. She wouldn’t talk about it, but it was there. Instead, I gave her a grin that I thought was goofier than anything else, and Carissa disappeared down the hallway.

  I resisted the urge to watch her walk away.

  Chapter Eight

  Carissa

  I put my hands to my cheeks as I walked back to the office. I could feel the heat in them, feel the desire for him pooling in my nether regions. When he’d smiled at me, I felt like I might just burst into flames. I’d had to look down and away from him, from those eyes. So green, so intense. And he listened to me. His eyes watched me carefully, paying attention to what I said.

  How could his wife have left him? There was something not quite right with his arm—I could see that, but he was strong, and muscular, and it was obvious he was working to make the arm better. I didn’t know that for sure, but I’d watched him getting the lunch together and I could see the muscles in his back and arms as he moved around the kitchen. Jensen was a man who was comfortable in his body, even though his body wasn’t working like he wanted it to.

  And it sounded like his wife left him while he was still healing! That was cold. Not that I could really point fingers. My ex left me because he was in the hole with bookies, or loan sharks, or something.

  At least we hadn’t gotten married, I thought again with relief. Although it didn’t look like he was going to go away quietly, if the texts last night were anything to go on. I pulled out my phone, and I blocked Stephen. Just because he wanted to scream at me via text didn’t mean I had to put up with it.

  My thoughts returned to talking with Jensen. I wondered how long he’d been divorced. Then I told myself it didn’t matter, because despite all the things he could do to my body and my composure with a look and a smile, that was where it stopped.

  With that thought, I forced the image of Jensen Briggs from my mind, sort of, and sat back down to my ledger books. Two hours later, Freeze came in.

  “How are you doing, Carissa? Am I gonna die broke?”

  I laughed up at him as I turned around. “No, but you suck at record keeping. There has to be someone else who can do this here. Your piles of paper,” I indicated all the little scraps of paper, post-it notes, backs of envelopes that were piled next to me on the desk, “need to go. You have to get more organized, Freeze.”

  “How long are you staying? I’ll pay you to do my books once a week.”

  “I’m not living here. I’m here for maybe another three weeks? Almost?” I said, trying to figure out the dates in my head. “I’m doing some remote work for my office, but I can come by once a week until I leave. You do need to find someone, though.”

  “Well, if you were living here, I’d be all set,” Freeze grumbled. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

  As I walked out, Freeze walked with me. “Same time next week?” he asked. “If I can get my mess cleaned up, it’ll be easier to hand off when you abandon me.”

  I laughed out loud. “Freeze! You really are shameless!”

  He grinned at me. “Yes, indeed. I get what I want, because what I want is usually for the best. Learn it now, missy. Don’t bother fightin’ it.”

  “I don’t doubt that at all,” I said.

  Freeze walked out onto the porch with me. “Then I’ll see you next week.” He nodded and went back inside.

  Bemused at how I kept finding myself employed on my vacation, I got into my car, and headed down the long drive. There was no sign of Jensen Briggs, and that was probably a good thing, even as I felt disappointed. He was very, very nice to look at.

  I drove home, keeping an eye out for cows. I didn’t see any, and I was glad. My distraction level was high. I was struggling with how attractive I found Jensen. I had too much on my plate to be romantically involved with anyone else right now. I still hadn’t heard from Stephen, although I didn’t think that was a bad thing. I might punch him in the nose. I still needed to find somewhere to live when I went back to San Diego. And I still needed to let myself grieve. I knew that needed to happen.

  There had been no time, what with Mel’s warning, and my desire to get the hell out. Not that Stephen deserved any tears from me, but maybe I did.

  And damn it, I wasn’t getting involved with anyone! Not even totally hot veterans overcoming a disability that was obviously making him crazy. Which made me admire him.

  When I got back to Gran’s, she wasn’t home. She’d left me a note to please bring a couple of boxes back in from the garage that she’d decided she was going to keep. Hmmm. That wasn’t a good sign. I would need to be with her as she sorted and priced, otherwise we wouldn’t have much of an estate sale.

  As I walked back in with a box of her Lladro’ figurines, the doorbell rang. “Shit,” I muttered, walking to the door with my arms still full of the box. I peeked out the peephole.

  Jensen Briggs stood on the doorstep.

  “Come in,” I called out.

  He blinked, and I felt a surge of lust come over me. How could such a simple movement be so… so sexy? I stepped back just in time.

  Jensen opened the screen door and then the front door. “Can I help you with that?” He asked, coming toward me with his arms out.

  “No, no, I’m fine,” I said, moving toward the dining room table, mindful of his arm. I thought it was the left arm, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Let me,” Jensen said.

  “It’s all right,” I took another step and then tripped over the e
dge of the rug.

  Jensen moved in one smooth motion, his arms going around me, the box between us. My balance felt off, and I teetered a little as his hands tightened around my hips. I looked up to see him staring down at me, the heat in his eyes making me want to yank his clothes off. Mine, too.

  Carefully, he stepped to the side, still holding me, and I set the box down on the table. Jensen’s hands were still on my hips. It felt like neither of us was breathing. Slowly, my hand, as if of its own accord, reached up to touch his face, running along his jawline. He felt like warm steel beneath my hand.

  Then his face bent to mine. He kissed me, his lips soft and full.

  My other arm came up to twine around his neck. I knew that I shouldn’t be doing this, but I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to. There was something about Jensen that drew me to him, like a magnet to true north.

  His hands went down to my ass, pulling me closer to him, and I could feel his hardness pressing against me. It made my nipples tighten, and I arched against him. Just a little.

  Jensen pulled back from me, leaving me blinking and feeling cold with the loss of his warmth.

  “I’m sorry, Carissa,” he said, sounding unsteady. “I—”

  I took a step toward him, reaching for him. “I’m not,” I said, before crashing my lips to his.

  It was as though a dam had burst. He scooped me into his arms, his left arm under my knees. Still kissing me, made his way to the couch. Carefully, he laid me on the couch, and then eased himself on top of me.

  I spread my legs, wanting to feel his cock next to me, even through the layers of clothes. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him again. We kissed as though kissing was oxygen we needed to breathe, our tongues demanding entrance to one another, both of us biting at one another’s lips.

  My panties were ruined. I could tell. And I didn’t care. I’d never felt this way with a man before. He was hot. He ground himself into me and I heard myself moan.

  “Carissa,” he whispered.

  I didn’t want to talk. I kissed him again.

  His hand went up my shirt to cup my breast, sliding under the bra. His hands were warm, and slightly rough. The sensation against my nipple was nearly unbearable, it felt so good.

  Jensen scooted down a little, pushing up my shirt, and then I felt his hot mouth close over my nipple. I arched against him. He sucked, gently at first, and then harder. When he bit down on it, I nearly came off the couch.

  I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and helped him to pull it over his head. He did the same for me, sliding his hands around to remove my bra. They all went onto the floor next to the couch. He settled himself between my legs again, cupping both my breasts in his hands, and looking up at me. The feel of his skin against mine was wonderful.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said quietly. Then he kissed one, and the other.

  It was slow, and deliberate, and it was making me crazy. Which I think was the point. I arched my hips against him, wanting to get rid of the clothing and get closer to him.

  Jensen looked up at me again, and there was a twinkle in his eyes.

  “We should take this into a room with a door,” I whispered.

  “That’s—”

  “Carissa?” a voice called from the kitchen as the back door slammed.

  “Oh, shit!” I said, looking at Jensen.

  He wasn’t slow on the uptake, and we sprang up from the couch like a pair of teenagers who were about to get busted. I found my bra, and shoved it in my back pocket, then pulled my shirt over my head.

  When Gran came in, we were both standing there, probably looking like a guilty dog who just pulled the family dinner off the table, but we were clothed, and I didn’t think I was panting too loudly.

  “Hi, Mrs. Webber,” Jensen said. “I came by to drop off the check for Carissa. Freeze let her leave without it today.”

  “I totally forgot,” I said.

  “That’s not like you,” Gran said, giving me a sharp look. “But it was nice of Freeze to pay his bill on time. He doesn’t want me going after him.”

  I laughed, more in relief than anything else. “You’d be a hell of a collections agent, Gran,” I said.

  Jensen laughed. “I’d bet Freeze knows who he’s dealing with. Here you are,” he said, pulling a crumpled envelope from his back pocket.

  I took it, feeling my face burst into flame as his finger caressed mine. He looked at me, and when our eyes met, even though I could feel Gran staring a hole in me, I couldn’t look away.

  God, I wanted him. Right here, right now, even with Gran clutching her pearls not five feet away.

  “Thanks for bringing it out,” I said.

  “My pleasure,” Jensen’s voice was low, and dark, and made my entire body clench with desire.

  There was a silence, and then Gran walked right into it, seemingly unaware of all the tension and everything else flying between Jensen and me. “Well, thank you, Jensen. We appreciate it.”

  It was a polite way of kicking his butt out the door. Jensen was no slouch in the social graces department. “Yes, ma’am. I guess we’ll see you next week, Carissa?” he asked me.

  “What? Oh, um… yes. I told Freeze I’d help him while I was here.”

  “He’s already stealing my help?” Gran squawked.

  “It’s hard to say no to him,” I shrugged.

  Her eyes softened. “I know. That’s fine. Tell Freeze I know what he’s up to, please, Jensen.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said again. He looked at me one more time and then walked out the door.

  I watched him. That ass. That body. That… everything.

  “Carissa?” Gran’s voice was behind me.

  “Hmmm?” I turned around, still lost in the feeling of having Jensen’s hands and body on mine.

  “You might want to tuck your bra back in,” she gestured at my butt, where I’d stuck the bra in my back pocket. “Or put it back on, or something.” Smiling, Gran walked back out to the kitchen.

  I fled to my small room, wishing for nothing more than the floor to open and swallow me up.

  Chapter Nine

  Jensen

  I shifted in my seat as I drove away from the Webber home. Damn. I’d almost gotten naked with the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long time. It wasn’t just her looks, although they were amazing. It was who she was.

  She was scared, though, and there was something she was running from. But despite that, she was funny, and she had a light-hearted sense of humor that came through, even as I could tell she was eaten up with worry. It came out in the way she talked to her grandmother, to Freeze, and even to me.

  Carissa Webber was a nice person. A good person. A person with a future. Whereas I… I was washed out of the military ten years before I planned to be. With a bum arm. I was working for peanuts on a farm in the middle of nowhere.

  Not that I minded being here. On the whole, this was a great place to be. But what did I have to offer someone like Carissa? Never in my life had I felt so lacking, so inadequate. Worse, my entire life had been about being the best, working hard to be the best.

  But my body had failed me.

  I hadn’t even been able to catch the box right. Although it made her fall into me, so that was a positive. I shook my head. I needed to stay away from her, but damn. How was I supposed to do that when she literally fell into my arms?

  And she was willing, as willing as I was? I groaned in frustration. How was I supposed to keep up any willpower in that kind of situation?

  I had no idea. None. My frustration—both sexual and otherwise—built as I drove back to the ranch. When I pulled in next to my cabin, Pris was coming out of the barn.

  “You got something that needs doing?” I asked her.

  “You looking for chores?” Pris smiled at me. “Yes, please. Come with me.” She made a u-turn and headed back for the barn.

  “I am,” I said.

  “Well, I’m your girl,” Pris replied. “One of the horses
banged into his stall a little too hard, and the slats are loose.”

  “Perfect,” I said.

  “They could all use a brushing, too,” Pris continued.

  When I looked over, her eyebrows were raised. But she didn’t say anything. Pris was very easy to be around. She’d was a nurse, although she didn’t work anywhere outside of the ranch. She’d looked over my arm when I first came here, read the notes from my doctors and physical therapy torturers, and suggested exercises for me.

  I saw it for what it was and gave her no grief as I followed her “suggestions”. I’d noticed that she was extremely observant, without feeling the need to comment on it. That was the only time she’d talked to me, other than to tell me that if I needed anything, she was available to help. So far, I hadn’t had to take her up on her offer. That whole ‘leave you alone until you ask for help’ thing that I’d noted about the Buckleys.

  “Sounds good,” I said. “I’m in the mood to work.”

  “How’s the arm?” she asked, tossing my previous theory in the trash.

  “Same. Not one hundred percent,” I grumbled.

  “I think you have a pretty good level of mobility,” Pris said. “I know you hate the PT, but you do it, even if I have noticed you whine like a baby when you do.”

  I laughed, and it was genuine. It was hard to stay grumpy around Pris. I could see why she did so well with Axel and Freeze. “Point taken,” I said.

  “Good. I can leave this safely in your hands?”

  “As long as you’re cooking tonight,” I joked.

  “I am, as a matter of fact. I’m doing a Mama meal—all my mom’s recipes,” she said.

  “Then I need the extra work,” I said, smiling. All of her mom’s recipes were what I would call comfort food. Not that I was complaining. After years of eating in chow halls, having someone who cooked, and who was a good cook—Axel, Freeze, and Pris took turns cooking, and they were all good—I loved it. I happily did the dishes.

  “Great. I’ll let Axel know he can take that off his Honey Do list,” she smiled at me. Then she left. Pris didn’t hang around and belabor things. I liked that about her.