When it ended, I realized my hands were gripped in his jacket. He’d, somehow, put down my coffee and was holding me against him. He tasted like cold coffee and those toffees he liked to sneak every now and again.
“I didn’t expect that.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about doing that since the day you got your divorce finalized.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never met a woman like you, Melanie.”
Jake was unlike any man I’d ever met. For him to be like this, to talk like this... “Something must have happened while you were gone.”
He nodded and brought me over to my chair. “You might say that.”
Jake sat down, and I knew this was going to be one of those moments where he’d take his time. Experience told me that he needed to get his thoughts in order. My lips still tingled from his kiss. “I talked to Sophia. She’s quite a lady.”
He rubbed the back of his neck in apparent embarrassment. “Yeah, she called to chew me out. Seems I was under the wrong impression about my leavin’.”
“Seems like it. Now, can you tell me why you left? Is it your son?”
He glanced over at me and then opened his jacket. “My son helped me track something down.”
“Did he? What?”
“This.” He handed me a brown wrapped package. I stared at the twine bow holding it closed.
“What is this?”
“Your Christmas present.”
“But I didn’t—”
“Just open it.” He huffed out a breath, and I tugged on the string.
It came loose quickly, and I found a soft-backed velvet case inside. I unrolled it and immediately my eyes filled with tears. I set it on the side table and unrolled the rest of it. My mother’s jewelry. Every piece. With a hand over my mouth, I stared up at Jake. “How?”
“My son is a finder, a contractor who locates missing items and artifacts and recovers them.”
“Like a PI?”
“More like an insurance detective, I guess. Anyway, I asked him to find a few pieces. He tracked down several locations using some pictures he had of David, and the rest was history.”
“You did this for me?”
My hands shook as I caressed the emerald ring my mother had bought the day before I was born and wore until the day she died. “I... I don’t know what to say.”
“Are they all there?”
I stared at Jake’s ruggedly handsome face and nodded. “Every piece.” I touched an opal hair comb. “My great grandmother bought this the first year the ranch turned a profit. It was one of the only pieces she owned.
“This is my aunt’s necklace. She used to perform on the stage. We all thought this gaudy piece was costume jewelry until Daddy had it appraised.”
I touched each one and remembered the stories the ladies of my family had shared about their times of growth and loss. Strength hadn’t been in their vocabulary but stubbornness and determination had.
“You are an amazing man, Jake Taylor.”
“I am ornery and stubborn.”
I got up out of my chair, and he rose with me. “You are wonderful and strong.”
“You are going to make me blush.”
“I’d like to see that.” I smiled and wrapped my arms around him. His came around me and tucked me against his body.
I inhaled his scent. This wonderful man had given me the support to keep going at the moment when my world had fallen apart around me. And now, finally, the world was righting itself again.
Jake rolled up the pouch with my help. “Come with me.” He took my hand and I followed and we went back inside. He set it down in my office and then opened the door to the main house. Surprise filled me as he turned on the light. I saw a beautiful rug laid out over the hardwood floor of the vast living room.
“Where did this come from?”
“I bought it a while back. Didn’t really know when to give it to you, so I figured now would be a good time.”
“But, why?”
He left me in the center of the round rug, and I was amazed at the soft warmth of it.
I watched him turn on music from a portable sound setup. “You’ve been back longer than forty minutes, haven’t you?”
“Maybe.” He turned and looked at me as the first slow twangs of one of my favorite country songs filled the air. “You can fire me at any time, Ms. Melanie. But I have every intention of making you fall in love with me.” Every step closer to me made my stomach flutter in anticipation.
“There’s no way that could happen.”
He took my hand in his and settled the other against my hip. We locked together comfortably. “Why is that?”
“I’m already there.”
He kissed me. A warm caress of lips before he moved and I followed as we danced across the carpet. One song flowed into another, and I realized all those nights in the office, he’d listened to me play my music, had built this list for me.
“I love dancing.”
“I know. Chuck told me you used to dance all the time before you got married.”
My joy darkened just a bit. “I quit for a while.”
“Well, take it back up again. I think we’re good together.”
He spun me around, and I laughed. Wrapped in his arms, supported by his warmth and in love with the man who had helped me find my own inner strength... my life was finally getting itself together. Yes, Sophia was right. I think we might both have found our second chance at love.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Dawn Montgomery loves to write almost as much as she loves to read. She has traveled the world twice over. While her days were filled with long hours and hard work, her nights were left for dark, lustful fantasies in and out of strange hotels and cities.
Alaska and Texas are the places she calls home. She recently moved from the frigid North to Texas with her family and neurotic dog. It was tragic to leave behind the moose and bear for wide-open plains and sexy cowboys.
Dawn’s website:
http://www.dawnmontgomery.com
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Sweet In His Arms
By
Megan Slayer
Chapter One
I can see the turn, and it’s sweet. Ryan Dane gripped the steering wheel tight and slammed into the turn. The rear end of his late-model racecar broke loose, like he was driving on ice, but he loved the sensation. He drove deep into the turn, almost taking out the tires lining the inner portion of the track. The car to his left stayed beside him and slammed into his front quarter panel.
“Shit,” he muttered. He didn’t want to clash with the driver beside him. He’d done enough arguing with Gage Bell in the past.
Ryan kept his foot on the gas and surged the rest of the way through turn four. His tires gripped in the somewhat damp dirt at the bottom of the turn, allowing him to move ahead of Gage’s car.
When the checkered flag waved, Ryan glanced over at the scoring tower. Hells yes, I finished second. Yeah!
He slowed as he went into the first turn, but the back end of his car kicked out from under him again. What the hell? He wasn’t going fast enough for the car to break loose. As the car spun backward on the track, he collided with the reason he’d been wrecked—Gage.
Damn it.
Ryan mashed the gas and drove away from the clash with Gage. Part of him wanted to give Gage a piece of his mind, but the rest of him just wanted to get the hell off the track and enjoy his great finish. He continued moving and drove to the scales. All he had to do was prove he met the weight requirements and he’d get the three-thousand-dollar prize for his second-place finish.
The light on the scale lit green, signaling he’d made weight. He p
umped his fist in the car and headed toward the front stretch. He’d worry about Gage later.
As he parked, he waved to the crowd. Gage stopped behind him, and once he climbed out of the car, Gage glared at him.
So much for thinking about Gage later.
Fifteen minutes later, Ryan drove back to the trailer and pulled the car onto the open-air transport. One day he wanted to buy a better trailer but not today. He’d have to use the bulk of his winnings to replace the damage to his car courtesy of Gage.
His best friend, Jones, held the straps used to secure the axles and wheels to the trailer. “So you took a hit from Bell.”
“I did, but I held my own.” Ryan couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been friends with the boy with the odd name. Jones never seemed to care about Ryan’s sexuality either. They were friends and teammates. When Ryan raced, Jones took care of the car, and when Jones raced, Ryan became the mechanic. Jones knew more about him than anyone and without the threat of dating. Jones completely loved his wife, Jena.
“You did.” Jones secured the straps around one tire then leaned on the fender of the car. “Looks like you really pissed off Bell, too. Here he comes.”
“Shit.” Ryan tamped down his frustration and took a deep breath. He refused to let Gage bait him. He turned around, practically running into his fellow racer. “Gage.”
“What the hell was that about?” Gage folded his arms. He widened his stance and glared at Ryan again.
“Just racin’, last time I checked.” Ryan ran his fingers through his hair. “It was a fair pass, but you still got a great finish. Netted a two-thousand-dollar check, too, right?”
“Great? I had second in the bag, and you screwed me.” Gage’s glare softened, but the venom was still evident in his voice.
“We raced. Next week, it could be you passing me. I’m sure I’d be pissed if I thought I was screwed out of a position, but that’s part of racing.”
“Whatever.” Gage grunted and stomped away.
Ryan leaned against the back of his car and drank in the image of Gage leaving. The man had a nice body and the tight fire suit accentuated his muscles. His ass flexed with each step, and the movement made Ryan’s mouth water. That was the shame about Gage—he was handsome and sweet unless he stepped onto the race track. Then, Gage’s anger and competitiveness took over. Shame, too. With a few pointers and some chill, the guy would be dynamite behind the wheel.
“Staring at him again?” Jones eased up beside Ryan. “You don’t know if he’s gay or if he’s even interested.”
“I never said I wanted to sleep with him. Good lord, you remember what happened when I came out to my folks.”
“Right. That’s why you’re living in your grandmother’s house at the edge of the property.” Jones shook his head. “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“To forget about Gage, that’s what you need to say.”
“‘Cause that works so well. You’ve had a crush on him since we were back in school.” Jones thumped him on the shoulder. “Look, get your head in the game. We’ve got a car to fix and races on Thursday.”
“Sure.” He rounded the trailer and climbed into the truck beside Jones. For the remainder of the night, his thoughts remained on Gage and the end of the race. He hadn’t done anything wrong by passing Gage, but he had brought on Gage’s anger.
Ryan collapsed on his bed that night and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. In his dreams, he ran into Gage.
He replayed the incident with Gage over and over, but each time with the same frustrating outcome. Anger and a fight. In the dream, Gage lashed out at him. Instead of hitting Ryan, he yanked him close. Ryan gazed into Gage’s eyes, and his frustration melted. He’d wanted to be this close to Gage for so long. The man’s gaze was magnetic. Ryan’s skin sizzled and his nerve endings tingled.
Something around them buzzed. Ryan reached for Gage, only to have the man fade away. Fade away? How... Ryan sat up and glanced around his bedroom.
Damn. Being with Gage was only a dream. He scrubbed both hands over his face and grunted. So much for sleeping. He noticed the time on the digital clock. Nine a.m. Shit. He’d missed chores. Now, he knew what the buzzing was—the doorbell. He climbed out of bed and raked his fingers through his hair. He still had the same clothes on from the night before.
He trudged barefoot through the house to the front door. Whoever wanted him wasn’t in the living room. Odd. If his father was there because Ryan had missed chores, then he would’ve been standing in the middle of the living room or would’ve barged into Ryan’s bedroom.
He grasped the door handle and opened the door. Instead of his father on the stoop, Gage waited on the small porch.
“Gage?” Now, he wished he’d have changed his clothes or at least brushed his teeth. “Can I help you?”
He drank in the image of Gage. The faded jeans hung low on Gage’s hips and the T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He’d cut his sandy blond hair, and the new do worked wonders on Gage. The shorter cut brought out the shape of his brown eyes and chiseled chin. Ryan longed to run his hands over that chest and to feel Gage beside him. God, he had it bad for Gage Bell.
Gage bowed his head, and his voice dropped an octave. “Can we talk?” His shoulders slouched, and he didn’t look Ryan in the eye.
Ryan gripped the handle to the screen door. Did he trust his former high school classmate and current racing competitor? From his head to his toes, heat surged within him. Maybe he was crazy from the restless sleep, but he wanted Gage in his home.
Chapter Two
Gage stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. Coming to Ryan’s place was a mistake. Damn it. So many thoughts ran rampant through his mind. The night before he’d wanted to punch Ryan. Now? He wanted to kiss him. God, he was losing his mind. Ryan wasn’t gay.
But Ryan was allowing him into his house.
Gage eased into the ranch home and stood on the mat. He wasn’t sure what else he was going to do. Throwing himself in Ryan’s arms sounded good, but that wouldn’t work.
“What’s on your mind?” Ryan waved to the worn couch. “Sit. I won’t bite.”
“Sorry.” He wiped his hands on his jeans-covered legs and made his way to the sofa. “I... I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“No problem.” Ryan left the room and strode into the kitchen. “I don’t have any coffee, but I’ve got some soda. Not great for breakfast, but I haven’t had a chance to run to the store. Want one?”
“Sure.” He sat up straight on the couch and glanced around the room. Nothing in the space reminded him of Ryan. The place looked more like the living room of an elderly couple with doilies and old paintings of landscapes. Even the furniture looked like something from thirty years ago. He seemed to remember having a couch with the same pattern when he was a kid and that sofa had been a hand-me-down from his grandparents. But that was part of the life he’d had back in Columbus.
Ryan returned to the room and offered the can of soda. “I need to do the dishes, too.”
“Oh, no problem. The can is fine.” Gage popped the top and glanced over at Ryan.
Ryan’s rumpled shirt and jeans suited him well. The man was slender, but under the loose clothing, he hid a strong body that could wield a racecar with ease. His bare feet stuck out from under the cuffs of his jeans.
Gage wasn’t a foot man, but even Ryan’s feet were handsome. Jesus, I needed to get laid and fast.
“So, what’s on your mind? Last night, you were ready to kick my ass.” Ryan propped his ankle on his knee and bobbed his foot. He rested the soda can on the arm of the chair. “You okay? You look pale.”
“I’m fine.” No, he wasn’t. He was embarrassed. He’d made a fool of himself the night before and wasn’t doing much better now. How in the hell was he going to admit to the guy he was crushing on that the only reason he was pissed off the night before was because he’d allowed the accident to occur?
/>
“Hey.” Ryan sat up and placed both feet on the floor. He put the soda can on the side table and rested his arms on his knees. “Happens to the best of us—the incident. The cars can be fixed, and I’m sure next week you’ll be hunting me down. It’s kind of fun having someone to spar with on track.”
Spar... right. He sighed. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I need some help.” Oh, he needed help all right. “Last night, I realized I’m not getting anywhere attitude-wise. Look at me, I freaked out on you because of a wreck I caused. That’s not cool.”
“It’s the heat of competition. Forget about it.” Ryan shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve been argued with at a race. Hell, I’ve argued with a few cars myself.”
“But you’re the king of cool. When they announce your car, it’s Ryan ‘King of Cool’ Dane, driving the thirty-six. I’m just Gage Bell. Big whoop.” He threw his hands in the air, nearly sending soda flying across the room. “Jesus, and now, I’m fucking this up, too.” He stood and left the can on the coffee table. “I need to go.”
“Slow down.” Ryan jumped to his feet and touched Gage’s arm.
Electric shocks ran the length of Gage’s forearm then shot to his heart. He paused and stared at Ryan. He’d never felt such an intense reaction to another guy before. He’d dated plenty and had a couple of longer-term boyfriends, but none of them elicited the same response.
The man was so handsome. From his sun-bleached blond hair that needed a trim, to his crystal blue eyes and those lips Gage wanted so much to kiss, down his sculpted body to those long legs—everything about Ryan made Gage sigh. He only wished Ryan wanted him, too.
“Sorry.” Ryan pulled his hand away. He averted his gaze. “Did you want to practice? Or discuss strategy?”
Gage shored up his courage. Strategy and practice would garner him time alone with Ryan and also time to work out his own issues.
Romancing the Sweet Side Page 21
