by Tess Oliver
Hearing him say my real name sent another frisson of pleasure through me. The way he said it made me feel important, as if I mattered to him.
I closed my eyes and pushed the notion from my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to get attached to Jackson. He’d be gone with the end of the weekend. A man like him wouldn’t have any interest past the fun we were having.
We collapsed down onto the mattress in the spoon position. Jackson wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his warm body. The lamp still glowed, but the heavy draw of sleep lowered my lids and blocked the light. In the security of Jackson’s strong arms, I fell asleep.
14
Not wanting to expose the morning version of myself, particularly after a long night of wine and activity, to my new hunky friend, I climbed out of his bed at the crack of dawn. It had been one of the hardest things I’d done in a long time, leaving the warmth and protection of his body to traipse across a dark hallway and fall into a bed where the sheets were cold from being empty.
I would have slept well into the morning, but a knock on my door woke me. I quickly fussed with my hair, as if raking my fingers through my pillow-mussed mop could make any significant improvement.
Fortunately, Coco’s soft voice followed the knock. I relaxed and pulled the quilt to cover up the sexy nightie that she had left for me.
“Come in.”
Coco entered with a breakfast tray. Her shoulders seemed to straighten more as she stepped farther into the room and the spring in her step became . . . well, springier. Her age was so hard to gauge, I’d stopped trying to guess it. My mouth watered at the fragrance streaming in with the tray.
“Would you like some French toast with maple whipped cream and berries?” she asked as she carried the tray toward the bed.
“I doubt there is any person on this planet who would say no to that question.”
She chuckled as she lowered the tray over my lap.
A mound of caramel colored whipped cream had begun its slow melting descent over a stack of thick golden pieces of French toast. Blue and red berries swam happily in the creamy concoction. I breathed in deeply as the steamy scent of maple swirled around the plate. “This would explain why my last dream involved me standing in a forest of maple trees with a fork.”
“People have told me that they dream about my food,” she quipped. “I figured you’d be hungry after the long night.”
My eyes popped open wide as a warm blush crept up my cheeks.
“I mean with that noisy wind and all,” she added hastily, but I was still sure there was more behind her comment than the inclement weather. “Jackson told me you two were taking a trail ride today.” She stood and smiled proudly down at her luscious breakfast food. “Isn’t it wonderful when things work out just the way you planned.”
Again, I stared up at her with wide eyes.
“The breakfast, of course. Everything turned out just as I planned. Enjoy.” With that, she winked and left the room.
Coco popped her head back in just as I took the first magical bite. “Jackson told me that you should walk down to the barn as soon as you’re ready.” She shut the door.
I spent the next twenty minutes losing myself in the bliss of Coco’s French toast.
15
Coco, the world’s greatest innkeeper, provided me with a fresh shirt and a straw cowboy hat for the trail ride. The shirt, which was actually a sleeveless blouse made of blue seersucker wasn’t something I would have picked for myself and yet, it looked great. Or at least that was what the bedroom mirror had told me. It had been the first time since Nate had broken off with me that I hadn’t stared into a mirror trying to decide what I needed to improve upon. I’d come up with a long list of things, but today, as I stared back at the reflection with cheeks pink from a night with Jackson, I decided all of me was just fine.
I was feeling sufficiently nervous to see the man I’d just spent an extremely sensual night with as I trekked the path to the barn. I’d spent the morning reminding myself that this was just for a weekend and not to expect any more than that. Jackson had made it clear that he wanted me, all of me, this weekend. His mention of the time limit had not passed by me. It was man code for—after that we go our separate ways.
That thought saddened me some. We seemed to go together well . . . in every aspect. But the last thing I needed was to have my heart stomped on again, and something told me it would hurt even worse if it were Jackson’s cowboy boots doing the stomping.
Archie, my mount from the night before, was standing outside of the barn, saddled and ready. Jackson walked out with his horse, a gray dapple gelding who looked full of spirit this morning.
I used the horse as a way to avoid any awkward first moments. I shoved my hands in my back pockets, making sure to present my breasts nicely in the seersucker blouse, as I walked toward him.
“You never told me your horse’s name,” I called.
“It’s Rebel. He came with the name, but it fits.”
Jackson stopped and shifted his black hat back to get a better view of me. I added a little extra sway to my hips. Once again, I easily fell into flirt mode with Jackson. There was just something about him. Could have been the green eyes, or the Hollywood smile, or the great shoulders . . . My mental catalogue was too long to list.
“So, Spunky, you ready for a real ride?”
I stopped and patted Archie’s neck. “My thighs might be a little shaky after last night’s ride.” I tamped down a wicked smile. “Or rides, to be more exact. But I think I’m up to it.”
He walked up in front of me and tapped the brim of my hat. “Looks just right on you. But there’s one big problem with cowboy hats.”
I peered up at him from beneath the shade of the brim. “Can’t get in a proper good morning kiss?”
“Exactly.”
I swept off my hat, and he plucked his up with one hand. His other hand curled around the back of my head as he leaned forward to kiss me. The moment his mouth pressed against mine, my mind splintered in all kinds of directions, none of them wholesome.
He pressed his hat back on his head. “Guess we should head out before it gets too hot.”
We climbed up onto the saddles and led the horses toward the same trail he’d driven the carriage along. A brilliant blue sky stretched on endlessly in front of us and the lush surrounding landscape twittered with the occasional breeze or wild creature. Archie’s slow, lazy walk made us fall behind quickly. I pressed my calves against his sides, but he seemed immune to my cues.
Jackson slowed Rebel down to fall back with us. “You never did say how you ended up on a ranch in your teens. Did your dad have a midlife urge to raise cattle?”
I stared out at the scenery. Even after so many years, it was still painfully hard to talk about my parents. My throat did its usual tightening, and I blinked away the burning in my eyes.
“Sorry. Seems like I brought up a bad memory.” Jackson had only just met me, yet he was more in tune with my thoughts and feelings than the man I’d spent six years of my life with.
“That’s all right. You couldn’t know.” I smiled weakly at him. “But thank you for noticing. My parents died in a car accident when I was ten. I was at school when it happened. My uncle and the principal walked into the classroom, and—” I swallowed, but it was hard. “I’ll never forget my uncle’s face. I knew then that something really bad had happened. I just didn’t know how bad until he got me home and sat me down. I remember looking around the house, wondering where my parents were, and that’s when it occurred to me that the bad news was about them.” I hauled in a steadying breath. “I wasn’t a bad kid, the opposite, in fact. I was quiet, a good student, lots of hobbies, but my relatives just didn’t have space in their lives for me. My grandpa, a man who I only saw every other Christmas, insisted I come live with him on his cattle ranch. My dad had never gotten along well with his dad. They were extremely different. My dad was this mild mannered, bookish man who liked to spend time theorizing
about the world. My grandpa was a doer. He didn’t think you lived a true life unless you came home every night with calluses on your palms and dirt crusted on your boots. I loved living on the ranch. He got sick just after I left for college and died a few years later. The ranch was in debt by the time he passed, so my uncles sold it off to pay creditors. I really miss that place . . . and him.”
“I’ll bet.” He reined his horse to the right side of a fork we’d come to. Archie followed without much effort on my part.
“In the bakery, Coco mentioned you’re a television producer.”
“I produce a children’s show. It involves people and puppets. If I had to choose between the two as the best work partners, I’d choose the puppets every time. They’re far less whiny and needy.”
“Sounds about right,” he said with a deep laugh, a sound that I was quickly growing used to. He peered over at me, his green eyes shiny under the shade of his hat. “I could see you hustling around a television set telling people what to do and keeping all the chaos under control. It suits you, a big shot job like that.”
“Big shot?” I said, sounding slightly insulted. But the more I thought about it, I liked it. “I’ll take it. I’ve been called a lot worse. Behind my back, of course. But my crew can be overly sensitive about stuff.”
“Well then, big shot, you ready to kick that horse into a lope? He picks up his feet a lot better when he has to move fast.”
I patted Archie’s neck. “I’m ready if he is.”
I moved to press my leg against Archie’s side, but as soon as Rebel took off, Archie was right behind. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. It had been a long time since I’d loped a horse, or even ridden one, for that matter. I realized how much I’d missed it. Nate had never been a horse person or even a pet person. What the hell had I seen in the man?
A breeze nearly took off with my straw hat. I reached up with my free hand and pushed it back down on my head. Then I rested back on my pockets, something Grandpa had always reminded me to do in a lope. I allowed myself the pleasure of watching the extremely handsome cowboy riding his horse in front of me. Jackson was one of those men who rode a horse as if he’d been born right there in the saddle. He made it look effortless. His cues were so subtle, it was as if the horse was merely reading his mind.
Jackson held his hat as he glanced back at me over his shoulder. I could see his gleaming white teeth beneath the shadow of his hat. He turned back around and led Rebel off the trail and slowed him to a trot. Archie followed without me asking him. He was on auto pilot, and the main pilot was Rebel.
I trotted up next to Jackson. We slowed the horses to a walk. “I don’t even have to steer this horse. He’d follow Rebel straight off a cliff without a second thought.”
“Yeah, Archie prefers not to have to put much thought into things.”
“I suppose Rebel must be top horse in the barn. Especially if you don’t have any stallions.”
“Yep, but there are a few mares that are quick to put Rebel in his place out in the pasture.”
The temperature had dropped as we headed toward a copse of lush evergreen trees. The sweet, musky scent of running water filled the air. I took a deep whiff. “Is that water I smell?”
“You’ve got a good nose.” He didn’t say any more. The path thinned down so that we had to ride single file. Archie just about glued his head to Rebel’s butt as we walked through the trees. A crow hopped down from a branch, startling Rebel, and Archie, who felt the need to mimic everything his leader did, jumped a good foot sideways. I slid to the side of the saddle but managed to right myself easily.
“You all right back there?” Jackson asked.
“I’m still in the saddle, so yep, I’m good.”
Sunlight clawed its way back as the heavy foliage thinned to a light canopy of pine branches. We stepped into a clearing that seemed to have popped right out of a travel postcard.
I sat back, which immediately cued my well-broke horse to stop. “Is that a waterfall?” I glanced around at the idyllic setting. “I’d ask how this place is possible just miles from the concrete jungle I live and work in, but nothing about this weekend seems real.”
“Far as I know, this river and the pitch in the rocks creating the waterfall and pool beneath it have been here for a long time.”
I pointed at him. “Far as you know, but with the magical way Coco cooks and bakes and finds perfect clothes and seems to know everything I’m thinking, I’m not ruling out that she did this.” I waved my arm around the piece of paradise we’d found.
Jackson climbed off his horse. “I’ll admit that Coco has some extraordinary gifts, but I doubt we can credit her with hundred year old trees and a majestic waterfall.”
I raised a brow to show him I disagreed.
“All right, so maybe it isn’t beyond her powers.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” I said satisfied. I climbed down off of Archie.
Jackson unwound a lead rope and halter that he had attached to his saddle. “Archie’s halter is on your saddle too. We can tie them off under these trees. Archie would probably be safe tied up by his reins, but all it would take is one fast moving squirrel or a big bee and Rebel would yank out all his teeth with one move.”
I pulled the halter and lead rope off the saddle and exchanged Archie’s bridle for his halter. We tied the horses loosely where they could entertain themselves on small tufts of green grass growing beneath the trees.
Jackson took my hand. It had been a long time since a man had taken hold of my hand, and it dawned on me that I’d missed it. He led me to the edge of the pool, a swirl of deep green water that had formed where the waterfall ended and the river began.
We sat down on the mossy bank.
I picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. The surface of the pond was smooth enough, even with being so close to the foam of the waterfall, that a group of concentric circles formed in the spot that the stone had landed. The rock disappeared quickly below the surface. “That water looks cold.”
“It is. But on a hot day like this, it’s a nice place for a dip. If you’re feeling spunky, that is.”
“Spunky is my middle name, buddy. But, freezing my butt off has nothing to do with spunk and everything to do with my jeans fitting right.”
His deep laugh made both horses lift their heads before returning to their late morning nibble. Jackson leaned forward to take off his boots. “Suit yourself, but I’m going in.”
“But we have no bathing suits.”
He dropped his boots next to him and stood up. He grinned down at me as he reached down to the hem of his shirt. “Little late to worry about me seeing you naked, don’t ya think?”
His shirt came off, revealing the incredible physique beneath. The vision of Jackson standing shirtless in front of me, prompted me to pull off my boots. “You’re sure we’re alone, right?”
“Not gonna guarantee that. Right now, I only know about Archie and Rebel, and they’re far more interested in that grass than a couple of naked humans.” Jackson took hold of the button on his jeans. “Come on in. Could be fun.” The way he said the last three words got me to my feet.
“Maybe I should leave on my bra and panties.” I unbuttoned the blouse.
“Then you’ll have to ride back with wet underwear. Besides, chances are I’m going to be taking them both off—one way or another.” He pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs for proof that I’d more than likely be relieved of my underwear, and soon. His erection seemed to glisten in the thin ribbons of sunlight streaming through the patchy foliage. In fact, it was more of a sparkle than a glisten.
I’d stripped down to my underwear and placed my hands on my bare hips to survey the incredible guy in front of me. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but you look even more appealing out in the middle of nature.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same damn thing.” He stepped toward me, wrapped an arm around me and hauled me against his rock solid, naked body. The slick, fle
shy tip of his cock pushed seductively at my panties.
“Lose those lacy little drawers, woman. I need to feel all of you.”
I reached back to the clasp on my bra as he impatiently pushed my panties down to my ankles. “First I’m naked in a carriage, and now I’m standing naked in the middle of”—I glanced around—“wherever the heck this place is. Two things I’ve never done before, and I’ve done them both in the span of a day.”
“Ever been fucked beneath a waterfall?” Jackson asked as he reached up to tug at my erect nipple.
“No, I have not.”
He took hold of my hand. “Then, baby, you’re about to add number three to your list.”
16
The bank around the pond was soft and muddy. I trudged willingly behind Jackson, from the need to get out from the wide open and be at least clothed by the water and from the need to, as he’d suggested, be ‘fucked beneath a waterfall’.
“Jeezus,” I shrieked as my feet first hit the water. I pulled free from his hand.
He continued to wade into the pool several feet before turning around and sitting back easily into the icy water. He coasted toward the center. “It’s better if you go in fast, like yanking a bandage off.”
“I disagree.” I stood calf deep and scooped up handfuls of the frigid water to pour over my dry skin. “This is what I do to get in a swimming pool, even a heated one. It takes patience to do it without giving yourself a heart attack. That’s my advice, and I’m sticking to it.”
“That’s fine. I’m having a helluva a good time just watching you pour handfuls of water on that curvy, delicious body of yours. In fact, if I have to watch it for too long, I might have to swim over to that waterfall and finish all by myself. Unless you get brave enough to jump in . . . Spunky.”
