Christie Ridgway

by Zane

  She mentally rolled her eyes.

  “I enjoyed getting dressed up for you.” Hah, try grunting in response to that!

  His eyes slid her way. “I’m not going to deny you looked amazing,” he said, his voice gruff. “Fine. You looked damned hot.”

  “Nobody’s arguing with you.” But yourself, she thought. You’re working so hard to pretend this thing between us doesn’t exist.

  Then, knowing it would take her straight off Santa’s good girl list, she pretended to slip on the damp earth. Zane’s hand immediately shot out and banded her bicep, hauling her close so that the sides of their bodies kissed.

  His skin’s heat transferred to her. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking down at her.

  She let herself get lost in his eyes, their color that arresting combination of blue and green. Thinking again of Sam’s directness, she gathered her courage. “I want more, Zane. More with you. More of you.”

  He froze, though his fingers tightened on her arm. “Not a good idea, Harper.”

  “The town already—”

  “The town might be talking about us, but we don’t have to make that talk come true.”

  Frustration drew her brows together. Why was he fighting so hard? She could see his chest rising and falling roughly, and it had nothing to do with the short jog they’d just taken. It was her proximity, that chemistry between them that made the air hum and made her feel so…exciting and womanly.

  Sexy.

  And wanting. Wanting him.

  His fingers on her loosened one by one, seemingly reluctant as the rest of him.

  Harper barely suppressed stamping her foot. Really, must he be so damn stubborn?

  “What is it about me?” she demanded. “Why are you so willing to walk away from something I know you feel as much as me?”

  He rubbed his hand over the bottom half of his face and she could almost feel the scratch of his whiskers against her own palm. “It’s just that…”

  But she knew exactly what it was, she decided, thinking back to the things he’d said to her in the past couple of weeks. “It’s because you think we’re so different, isn’t it?” She glared up at him. “Because you see me as a city girl, and as a society girl, someone who is too soft or too fussy for you and your world.”

  “That’s not it.” A glimmer of a smile touched his lips. “I like your soft and I like your fussy.”

  Her hands came to her hips and her glare didn’t abate. “Then I know exactly what it is. Like every damn arrogant man in the world, you are quaking in your shoes thinking I’m going to fall in love with you. That then I’m going to want to marry you.”

  He stared down at her, his expression bemused.

  When he didn’t break the silence, she continued on. “But see, I’m not looking to fall in love. And maybe I want to get married someday, but it will be to someone who actually wants that too, or otherwise it’s Geoffrey all over again.”

  She poked the big man in the center of his hard chest with a fingertip. “All I’m asking for, Zane Tucker, is more of you. More of you and me, with no expectations attached. It can be as casual as you want.”

  His silence continued.

  “Well?” She lifted her arms to her sides. “What do you have to say to that?”

  In answer, he grabbed her by the shoulders, yanked her close, and then up to her toes.

  Next he kissed her.

  It started to rain, the drops cold against her skin, but it didn’t lessen the heat pulsing beneath her flesh. His tongue drove inside her mouth and as her body trembled, her last thought before passion completely stole her away was that she hoped she’d told him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  Harper bustled about her office in the library as closing time approached. A swift glance out the half-glass wall indicated that no patrons lingered near the exit or in the study rooms, but after she tidied her desk she’d make a last walkthrough before locking the doors.

  Shoving pencils into the mug beside her blotter, she noted the slight pink sunburn on the back of her hand. She smiled at the sight, recalling Zane giving her what he called a “taste of the river.” Though his schedule was crazy-busy as the tourist season progressed, he’d managed to free a few hours one recent afternoon to take her on an easy raft ride, a short spin in the kayak, and then helped her don a wetsuit to try out a paddle board. Of course she’d ended up drenched, but exhilarated too.

  Nearly a week had passed since she’d ambushed him at A To Z, and despite his work obligations they’d managed that watery afternoon, a late dinner before the diner closed, and drinks and cheese fries at Baldie’s. There’d been no more overt resistance from him—as a matter of fact, their outings had all been his idea—but what there also hadn’t been was sex.

  Aware that it was she who had proclaimed their relationship could be as casual as he wanted, she’d been obligated to follow his lead on intimacy. Kisses. Hugs. Holding hands.

  Knowing also that he worked long hours doing very physical labor, she’d told herself to be content and not demand any more from him. If her doubts and insecurities voiced that he might be hesitating to take her to bed again as a way to keep some distance between them—or because their earlier experience between the sheets hadn’t blown his mind as it had hers—she’d ignored their insidious murmurings and carried on.

  Throwing her purse strap over her shoulder, she headed out of her office for a last walkthrough, keys in hand. The place seemed deserted. Then, in one of the reading areas, where two couches formed an L, she found a final patron stretched on the cushions.

  Sound asleep.

  A Longmire mystery lay open on his chest.

  Her breath caught in hers.

  A glow seemed to light her insides as she gazed on Zane, his long form in jeans, boots, another waffle-weave Henley. Then, as if even in his dozing state he could sense her presence, his eyes blinked open. Their otherworldly blue-green shocked her all over again and she couldn’t look away from them as he swung his legs around and sat up.

  His smile was sleepy and sweet and felt like an arrow straight to the middle of her heart. “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” She smiled back.

  “I came in near closing time to catch you—to see if you wanted to get some dinner together—but you were talking to your assistant in your office and then I sat down with a book, and then…” He shrugged. “Quick trip to Snoozeville.”

  “Long days for you,” she said.

  “Dawn hike this morning, followed by a guided kayak run and then rafting in the afternoon. Same thing tomorrow.”

  Harper held out her hand to him. “Then you need a good home-cooked meal and I know right where you can get one. My place.”

  She’d walked to the library so he drove her home in his truck. Then she set him up at her condo’s kitchen bar with a beer and some cheese and crackers and she threw together a meal of meatloaf, roasted red potatoes, and a green salad with a vinaigrette dressing.

  “I can help,” he said, as she chopped a cucumber.

  “No need.” She waved the offer away. Then she glanced over at him. “Do you know how to cook? I guess you must, what with your dad running the diner.”

  “Yeah, I can flip a burger and make a mean grilled cheese and bacon sandwich—No Man’s Land fare. After our mother left for Hollywood, Bailey took over the home kitchen and made meals that would tempt Dad to the table for family dinners.”

  He tipped back his bottle of beer to take a swallow. “But when I was that sickly kid stuck indoors, I often watched my mom make a pot roast or stuffed pork chops. When I didn’t feel like eating, she’d make my favorite—chicken soup from scratch.”

  Harper paused, her knife hovering over the vegetable. “That sounds…caring.”

  He studied the label on his bottle for a moment. “Truth to tell, when she was there, at our home in Eagle’s Ridge, she was great. A great mother. When I was sick and couldn’t leave the house, she promised me I would get better.
She told me I’d have everything I ever wanted and that I would beat the illness.”

  He cleared his throat. “I believed her.”

  “And it happened,” Harper said softly. “You got better. You live a full life.”

  “But then opportunity knocked and she got a chance to portray the mother in the family drama Mother May I.”

  “Oh.” Everybody knew that popular TV show. It had run for years. “A pretty big opportunity, then.”

  “Right.” His thumb swept through the sweat on his beer, his expression thoughtful. “She chased her dream and caught up with it.”

  Instead of commenting further, Harper opted for more generic chit chat next, until she could serve up the hot, home-cooked meal that she’d promised. Zane dug in, had seconds, then insisted on doing the dishes. She watched him move about her small kitchen, smiling when his elbow knocked the paper towels off the counter and he bumped his head on the low-hanging fixture.

  “I’m sorry,” she offered.

  “Don’t be,” he answered, ruefully rubbing at the crown of his head. “This is my life.”

  One she couldn’t help but hope would include her. In a casual way, she hastily reminded herself. Without expectation of anything more than the kisses-only friendship he seemed content with at the moment. But a slow pace wouldn’t kill her, she decided, though she hoped for something more intimate eventually.

  With the kitchen cleaned up, he seemed in no hurry to go. They took their places on the couch in her living room, the TV tuned to baseball. Though not much of a sports fan, Harper didn’t care. She enjoyed his company and even more so when he put his arm around her shoulders and hauled her close. As she lifted her mouth to place a kiss on his jawline, she heard her phone ring in her purse, hanging over a barstool in the other room.

  His hand drifted down her back as she stood to retrieve it.

  Her mom was on the other end of the call. Harper remained in the kitchen, puzzled and a bit alarmed. “Is everything okay?” she immediately asked. As a general rule, her mother refused to use her phone after six o’clock, reserving the evening hours for uninterrupted time with her husband.

  Harper figured it wasn’t a bad idea, as her dad had been devoted to her mother for thirty-four years.

  “Everything’s fine,” her mother said, but there was an odd note to her voice. “And you? Are you fine?”

  Harper thought of the man in the other room. Oh, she was so fine, even if she had to wait for ages to be skin-to-skin with Zane again. He’d been such a patient teacher on the water and such a pleasant companion off of it. No man had ever made her feel so…protected. And heard. And seen. When he smiled at her, it was as if they were the only two in the world.

  “I’m terrific, Mom,” she said.

  “Job going well? You still like Eagle’s Ridge?”

  “The job is great. I’m liking Eagle’s Ridge very much.”

  “Oh.” Her mom sounded disappointed, and Harper assumed she was still holding on to hope that her younger daughter would return to San Francisco.

  That wasn’t going to happen. “And Mom…”

  “Yes?”

  Harper hauled in a breath. “I’ve met someone.”

  “A new friend you mean?”

  “A man.” She lowered her voice, her gaze drifting in the direction of the living room where she could hear the TV still played the game. “I like him. I like him very, very much.”

  “Oh,” her mother said again, this time sounding not just disappointed, but maybe uneasy.

  Harper frowned. “Mom? What is it?”

  “Nothing, nothing!” Patricia Grace said with a forced gaiety. “But I hear your father calling. You know how he insists I sit beside him during the PBS News Hour.”

  Before Harper could get to the bottom of her parent’s strange behavior, her mom ended the call. “Hmm,” she said, as she made for the living room. “Weird.”

  Zane still occupied her couch. But he’d half-slumped against one round arm and looked to be out cold. One beer wouldn’t do that.

  Dawn hike this morning, followed by a guided kayak run and then rafting in the afternoon. Same thing tomorrow.

  Pure physical exhaustion would do that.

  Loathe to wake him, she crossed to the couch and knelt at his feet where she undid the laces of his boots. She eased them off and then drew his legs up onto the couch. His lax expression didn’t change. Not a single muscle twitched.

  From the back of a nearby chair, she plucked a folded blanket. Then she tossed it over him and spent some minutes tucking it around his big body. Finally, she stood over the man, gazing on him in sleep.

  Just like at the library, a warm glow ignited inside her.

  Bending, she brushed his hair off his forehead, but didn’t even bother to kiss his cheek. Because gazing upon him at rest made clear there were all kinds of intimacy.

  Having him here, where she could watch over him as he recharged, was one of the sweetest.

  Chapter 9

  Zane finagled a rare Saturday off during the season by bribing one of their new river guides with an entire weekend free at the end of the summer. Still, he stopped in the office in the early morning to make a final check.

  Adam sauntered into the kitchen/breakroom, the wind having wreaked havoc with his hair and the early morning chill bringing a ruddy color to his cheeks and forehead. He’d led the dawn hike that was followed by the popular kayak run. Nodding at Zane, he moved directly toward the full pot of coffee.

  “I will live,” he said, after pouring himself a mug and drinking half of it down.

  “Good to know,” Zane said, pinning the next day’s schedule onto the bulletin board. It was on the computer and he’d sent it to the phones of each and every guide, but it never hurt to have it posted in another place as well.

  “I haven’t heard details of your plans for today,” Adam said.

  “I’m first escorting Gambler to the library. It’s a Kids Reading to Dogs day.” Zane felt an absurd burst of pride. “Bella, the little girl who read to him two weeks ago, has especially asked for a repeat.” Though her “Uncle Noah” had returned to DC, he’d passed along the child’s request to Zane via text.

  “I can’t believe he sits still for that.” Adam gestured toward the long scratches in the molding around the back door. “That’s yesterday’s work when Holly came through the front tooting on a kazoo. She got it as a promotional gimmick from that new bookstore in town and the sound of it sent him into a frenzy.”

  “Oh, hell,” Zane said. “Put it on—”

  “The Terror List. I know. It’s been duly updated.”

  Adam took another swallow of his coffee. “So you’re going to spend the day with Harper?”

  “I’ll see her at the library,” he said, not committing to more than that. But God, he wanted to see her, see her alone and when he wasn’t dog-tired. Two nights before he’d fallen asleep on her couch and hadn’t had a chance to apologize in person. The following morning, it had been his turn to lead the dawn hike so he’d had to leave her house while it was still dark and she was still sleeping.

  “C’mon Bro,” Adam said. “You have the whole day off. You gotta spend some time with your woman.”

  His woman. “She’s not that.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Look, I’m taking it slow. Being careful because I don’t want to hurt her,” Zane said. “You know how clumsy I can be.”

  “Please.” Adam shook his head. “You’re nearly as accomplished an athlete as I am.”

  Zane snorted at that.

  Adam’s lips twitched, but he carried on. “Seriously. You have never gone out of your way to hurt a woman. I’ve never heard a woman complain that you did so.”

  “Harper’s a different type than I usually…associate with. I can’t explain it.”

  “So? Tastes change. People change.”

  Zane grimaced. “I’m starting to hate that word,” he mumbled. “Really hate it.”

  Adam stil
led, his eyes narrowing. “What’s up with all this?” he demanded. “Why are you so frickin’ grumpy?”

  “Does a man have to be sunshine and sugar goddamn cubes all the time?”

  Adam’s stared a moment longer, then his perplexed expression cleared. “You’re not getting it from her, are you?”

  Sometimes Zane hated the twin mind-reading thing. The back of his neck burned and he looked down at his feet. “I told you,” he muttered. “I don’t want to hurt her by leading her on, or leading her to believe I’m some kind of forever material. So taking it…slow.”

  “I’ve seen you holding her hand,” Adam said, now looking incredulous. “Giving her little smooches at the diner.”

  “Smooches?” Zane lifted a brow.

  “Face it, Bro, you’ve smooched her in public. She obviously liked it. If you haven’t taken that any farther, the poor woman’s probably wondering if there’s something wrong with you. Or worse, if there’s something wrong with her. That you don’t find her truly desirable.”

  Oh, shit. There was nothing wrong with Harper, that wasn’t why he hadn’t hopped into bed with her again. Instead, he’d wanted to show her some respect, and to show some restraint so she’d know he didn’t see her as a simple booty call. But instead he’d sent the wrong message?

  Talk about clumsy.

  Because, damn it, he did find her desirable, oh-so-effing desirable.

  Shoving his hand into his pocket for his keys, he headed out of A To Z, desperate to get some time alone with her now. He’d find the words to explain. She needed to know that he wanted her in a powerful way.

  He and Gambler were two minutes early for the Kids Reading to Dogs program. But if he thought he might have a moment or two alone with the librarian, he was wrong. Already canines and kids were gathered and she was directing them to seats even as she lugged a stack of books around the back patio.

  He hustled up to help her with the load, but some clean-cut, fastidious-looking dad beat him to it. The man didn’t notice the scowl Zane sent his way.

  Harper didn’t seem to notice Zane was even in attendance other than pointing out where Gambler should wait for Bella. He got the dog situated on the same blanket under the same tree as before and waited expectantly for the child’s arrival. Gambler seemed anxious too, letting out little whines until he caught sight of the little girl—again dressed in pink and glitter.