by Vivian Arend
More than losing her job. More than leaving what had been her home for nearly thirty years.
She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, what she had begun to long for…
Tamara ran from her own thoughts, escaping into the kitchen to mindlessly scrub the already clean countertop until it was late enough she too could take herself off and fall into a restless sleep.
Caleb struggled with the bolt he was trying to remove, swearing as the wrench slipped from his fingers for the twentieth time. Dustin was helping brace the gate, and the wrench bounced off his arm and slammed back into Caleb’s knuckles as it fell.
A rush of pain chastened him for being distracted. Maybe it was punishment for avoiding his office for a week, choosing instead to torment himself by sitting on the veranda each morning with Tamara in the quiet time before she’d rise to finish getting breakfast ready.
It was peaceful and relaxing, but tempting, which set him into feeling guilty and now, distracted. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself from making the same stupid mistake. He was stuck on repeat.
When something hit him in the side of the head not even two seconds later, Caleb was sure the world was trying to make a point. What exactly, he wasn’t sure.
“Now I understand why you were all growly.” Josiah marched up and slapped Caleb on the back. “Why you didn’t you just say something?”
Caleb stared at him in confusion. “What the hell are you going on about?”
Josiah snickered. “Don’t think you can keep things secret in a small town like this. I’m surprised it stayed undercover this long, and yes, that was a dig.”
Dustin glanced between Josiah and Caleb. “What’s he talking about?”
“No idea.”
“Oh, come on now. Don’t play the innocent. I know about you and Tamara.”
His youngest brother looked shocked. “Are you and Tamara…?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Caleb and Josiah spoke at the same time,
Caleb glared at his friend, narrowing his eyes. “Who the hell is telling you bullshit stories? There’s nothing between me and Tamara.”
At least a whole hell of a lot less than he wished was going on.
Josiah leaned back and folded in his arms over his chest. “That’s not what I heard. I was at the Sinclairs’, and word is you’re taken. So’s she, and considering how growly you’ve been the last while, it all kind of made sense.”
“I don’t think you and Tamara should be fooling around,” Dustin piped up.
“We’re not fooling around,” Caleb snapped. “It’s just damn small-town rumour. I’m surprised, Josiah. You know better than to listen to gossip and take it as gospel truth.”
“Hey, let’s just say I was hopeful.” His grin widened. “But if it’s gossip, then she’s not taken, which means I can ask her out, right?”
Caleb wasn’t about to rip his best friend apart, but the urge was there.
The urge was damn strong.
Instead he shrugged. “Don’t know that she’s got a lot of time to be off gallivanting at the moment, so maybe you should put that on hold for a while.”
Josiah’s knowing look was enough to send Caleb scrambling to find something for them to do that would be enough of a distraction.
They got into a task, and between the happily finicky labour and Ashton joining them, there was plenty enough work to change the topic to safer ventures, but word of the gossip nagged him.
Small-town rumour was a thing, but even that usually had some kind of a starting point. He was still stewing over it when Josiah was getting ready to leave.
Caleb jogged up and knocked on his truck door.
The window rolled down and Josiah rested his elbow on the sill. “I’ll send out one of the staff to finish the vaccinations, if that’s okay with you. I’ve got a couple of things I need to complete before the office closes.”
Caleb waved it off. “Not a problem.” He eyed his friend. “You mind telling me exactly who said what about me and Tamara? It’s the kind of thing I don’t want getting back to the girls without having an idea of what to tell them.”
Josiah’s lips twitched but he kept his expression under control. “A few days back Tamara was at some event with the girls and claimed you were well satisfied, if you know what I mean. And no, I’m not talking about her abilities as a nanny. People figure your bed is plenty warm these nights.”
A swear escaped.
That was the last thing he needed—actual encouragement straight from the horse’s mouth. And it was encouragement, of the roughest kind.
The images crowding his brain were as dirty as all get out. Tamara warming his bed? Exactly the dreams waking him in the middle of the night. The ones where he’d find himself with the sheets kicked off, body covered in sweat. Fingers wrapped around himself before he realized what he was doing.
He dipped his head. “Appreciate it.”
Josiah paused. “I was teasing you earlier, but you know, maybe the two of you getting involved wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
Caleb couldn’t believe his ears. “She works for me. What part of that is a good idea?”
His friend wavered but still forged ahead. “Right, that does make things difficult, and yet it’s not the working-for-you bit I was thinking about. You’ve been alone for a while.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Not all women are like Wendy.”
“Thank God, or the human race would have died out years ago.”
A snort escaped Josiah. “Okay, looking at this from a different angle. You realize Tamara grew up on a ranch? She knows how much work it is, and hey, look. She hasn’t run screaming yet.”
“She’s here to take care of the girls.”
His friend nodded. “And from everything you’ve told me, she’s doing a great job at that.” Josiah looked him over. “So why is it not a good thing for you to act on how hot she makes you?”
“She doesn’t…” Caleb couldn’t bring himself to lie. Not to his best friend.
“Thank you for not continuing that bullshit. But seriously, I know it’s not the easiest of situations, but you’ve got an opportunity here—”
“Thanks for coming out this morning. Talk to you later.”
He turned and walked away.
That Josiah recognized his attraction to Tamara wasn’t a good thing. Especially in light of the fact that the rumour mill would now be going wild.
My God, what if the girls heard? What if they thought their world was about to be flipped upside down all over again? Their memories of Wendy were bitter and hurtful.
This was his own damn fault for not being stronger. It should have been crystal clear from the first moment he wasn’t interested in Tamara except on a business level.
But it was Tamara’s fault too, for speaking out of turn, and right then he was angry enough to march into the kitchen and shout at her. Of course, that would cause all sorts of other problems.
No, this had to be dealt with in a big enough way to make an impression on the hardheaded woman. Something private enough he could get through to her exactly what she’d done.
It was strange. All the times he and Wendy had fought left him aching and angry, but never hot like this. Those fights have been icy-cold, polite and sterile.
What burned in his belly now was red-hot, laced with sexual tension.
It might not be right, but for once in his life he didn’t care if he was doing the right thing. The way to prove his point without a shadow of a doubt was simple, and perfect. Terrible and yet wonderfully justified.
He couldn’t wait. She wasn’t going to know what hit her.
Chapter Fourteen
Tamara pulled back the quilt and crawled on her oversized bed, leaning against an enormous stack of pillows and settling into her book. She’d barely finished the first chapter when the floorboards outside her room made a distinctive creaking sound.
She glanced up to see the doorkn
ob turn, and wondered which one of the girls needed her. She wasn’t shocked when the door opened—
Not until Caleb marched in.
Marched in, turning to close the door behind himself.
Tamara stared, positive her jaw was hanging low. “Need something?”
“No.” He strode to the side of the bed, gaze fixed on the wall behind her.
Tamara shoved away the impulse to grab a pillow to cover herself. “What… What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.”
The impossibility of that statement combined with the dirty daydreams she’d been having about her boss mixed into one enormous cauldron, and Tamara found herself, for the first time in a long time, speechless.
Her silence was based on utter confusion, not helped at all by the fact he was deadly quiet as he reached to undo the buttons of his shirt.
Somehow she forced herself to form words. “Caleb, this isn’t funny. You shouldn’t be here.”
He shrugged the flannel off leaving a plain white muscle shirt behind, the broad muscles of his shoulders and massive biceps far too close. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’. Where else should I be when it’s time to get ready for bed?”
“Your own room. Caleb—”
Tamara’s mouth went dry as the final layer covering his torso lifted away. Far far too much naked, gorgeous skin was right there beside her. A light dusting of hair covered his chest, another darkening and narrowing as it headed lower and disappeared under his beltline and—
Oh my word, he was putting his hands on his belt and loosening the buckle, and…this was not happening.
Tamara abandoned her book and slipped out of bed. She had some idea of hiding in the bathroom until he came to his senses, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
Maybe she should have been afraid. Maybe she should have screamed, but he wasn’t scaring her, scaring her. Just making every nerve in her body tingle and sending her pulse into orbit.
His gaze slid down, then up, until he was once again staring into her eyes. When he spoke, his voice had gone low. “I think that’s my favourite nightie. Although I don’t know why you bother to wear it since I won’t let you keep it on for very long.”
Maybe she’d fallen asleep and was having a deliciously dirty dream. Tamara reached up and pinched the skin of her forearm. “Ouch.”
Awake. Definitely awake.
“What the hell have you been doing?” Suspicion rushed in. “Have you been drinking, Caleb Stone?
He stepped closer, his gaze dropping from her eyes to linger on her breasts. The traitorous things reacted, nipples jerking upright to press against the cool material of her nightgown.
“Nope. Not a drop. Only, you see, I hear you and I are an item. I hear you’re warming my bed at night, and I’d hate to think of you as a liar. So we should make it clear where we stand. Or should I say, where we lie?”
Tamara stuttered for a moment. “S-s-someone said we’re sleeping together? Oh my God, who? Wait, what?”
His answer was wordless. His hand no longer hovered between them. Instead he touched her, tracing the thin strap of her nightgown down her shoulder, continuing to the swell of her breast. His fingertip slid over the hard peak of her nipple, and a shiver rippled over her entire body.
Her brain was not working, that much was obvious. She forced herself to speak. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Seems someone at that birthday party you went to got the idea that I’m sleeping with my nanny. I figured since you were the one who started the rumour, you wouldn’t mind if—”
The birthday party? “I hate small towns.”
Tamara jerked back two steps, instant fury heating her blood. Now she knew what he was talking about, the memory clear and sharp.
She was mad at herself for having spoken out of turn, but she was even madder at Caleb for what he was doing. “Look, there were a bunch of catty creatures there that day who were not being very nice, making remarks they shouldn’t about all sorts of things. So, yeah, I got a little snarky with them, but I did not say we were sleeping together. I said you had no reason for them to farm out your services like a stud bull for hire.”
“Well, baby, your smart comments caused trouble.”
Really? He was going to come in here and go asshole on her? She might find it difficult to think straight with him shirtless and all, but this was not happening.
He was right…but he was totally wrong.
Fine if he wanted to punish her for screwing up. But not like this. This was so far over the line the other direction she was actually shocked he’d gone through with it. If she hadn’t been as annoyed as a cat stuck in a rainstorm she might have been impressed at the level of his game. Then she realized…
Caleb’s expression might be unreadable, but his eyes—
He couldn’t hide the fire burning in his gut. Lust, not anger.
It appeared his little lesson had backfired.
Inspiration hit—a bad, wicked idea that was so wrong. So very wrong, but now that it was fully formed, stopping was damn near impossible.
She needed to turn away.
Need to grab on and take a bite.
God, she needed a bite of Caleb Stone.
Do it. Take a bite.
Fine, it was a bad idea, but she’d blame the stupidity on the heat in her veins, bubbling now with sexual frustration as well as anger.
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye as she adjusted position. Closer. Closer, until she could skim her fingertips over his impossibly hard chest. Circling and teasing the light dusting of curls and the tight surface of his nipples.
“I’m sorry, baby. You’re right. I misspoke. You are just fine without a woman. Your bed isn’t cold and lonely.” As she spoke she slid her hand down. Slowly, lower, until her thumb stroked the thick ridge she found waiting, pressed to the front of his jeans. “You don’t spend the night with your fist wrapped around your cock.”
Caleb swallowed hard. His pulse raced at the base of his throat.
“Tamara—” The word was a harsh growl.
But he didn’t move away.
“Or maybe you do. Taking care of yourself—I’m sure you take care of yourself no problem.” Tamara unsnapped the button on his jeans. He grabbed her wrist. “Not that I blame you. I do the same thing.”
The sound of his zipper being lowered meshed with a dangerous rumble deep in his chest. He let go of her hands, and then, oh my God, he was touching her. Skimming his palms up her waist, slowing as he passed her breasts.
She ached. She waited, no longer angry, but on fire with desire.
Caleb sucked for air, chest heaving as he fought—for control? For strength? He slid his fingers into her hair and tightened, lifting her face.
Then his lips crashed down and he was kissing her senseless. His rock-firm body met hers as his other hand jammed against her lower back, locking them together. It was incredible, like cool wine on a hot day, all delicious sweetness and tingling pleasure.
Tamara tangled her hands in his hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tongues fighting, bodies wrapping tighter.
She was nothing but aching need on the inside. An empty aching need waiting to be filled. Tamara was tempted to climb him like a tree, clinging tight until they were both satisfied. A shiver raced up her spine as he lifted her skyward, and she wrapped her legs around him, wishing the layers between them were gone.
This kiss was fierce and possessive, one hand cupping her breast, and she wasn’t sure how it happened but she was on the bed, hot male draped over her like a sexy, sexy blanket.
He caught the hem of her nightie, scrunching the fabric upward as if ready to strip it for her. She could go along with that. She could shove his jeans down and roll them until—
Caleb jerked back, just enough to separate them. Chests brushing as they fought for air.
Her entire body tingled as he rolled off. He kept moving until he was on his feet, s
tanding beside the bed.
He shoved a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up wildly.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell like an avalanche. Crashing, unexpected.
She grabbed a pillow, clutching in front of her like a shield. Her brain wasn’t quite working, bewilderment and sexual frustration swirling.
He was apologizing? God, she didn’t know if that made her more angry or frustrated.
It certainly made her confused.
He stared down for one more moment, his body tight with need, his erection clearly visible. Frustration and desire dogged her, and she opened her mouth to say something, but he snatched his shirt from the ground and fled.
Tamara sat there, stunned, her heart pounding in the silence that followed the click of the door.
She hadn’t expected any of that, and she collapsed to her pillows and let out a long sigh of frustration.
Frustrated, confused and at a total loss.
How on earth could she face him tomorrow?
Caleb crashed into the hallway, somehow closing Tamara’s door and taking a dozen steps before his shaking legs forced him to put his shoulders to the wall. Deep breaths shook him as he fought his desires.
Three more seconds and he would’ve been beyond the point of no return. As a man who prided himself on his control, at that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to go back, jerk open the door and pick up where he’d left off—
The fire burning in her eyes said she wouldn’t stop him. The way she’d gripped his shoulders in passion as they’d kissed…
He dragged a hand over his skin, feeling the welts she’d left with her nails.
Caleb’s head thumped the wall again before he pushed to vertical, shuffling down the hallway. He needed to do something. He needed to do anything that would take him away from temptation, because it was clear the two of them had an awful lot of kindling piled up, and it wasn’t safe for them to be in a room alone. Not unless he was going to blow this entire relationship to hell by stripping her and driving into her like a man possessed.
God, what he wouldn’t do to be able to take her.
He stepped five paces farther down the hallway then three paces back, trying to decide where to go. He wasn’t about to drop into his own bed, or hit the shower—in both those circumstances, he’d be taking his unruly hard-on to completion in the saddest and sorriest of ways considering there was a hot-blooded woman down the hall willing and interested. No way would he stroke off while thinking about her.
