Jackson Hole Valentine

by Cindy Kirk

  It hadn’t mattered. Within days of his confession, in fact the day after he’d taken her innocence in the backseat of that old Chevy, he quit calling. When she saw him in school he walked by as if she didn’t exist.

  Being young and foolish and convinced she was in love, she’d waited a couple of days before tossing aside her pride and calling him. She’d realized it was over when he didn’t call her back. Then her folks had died.

  Her world had suddenly been turned upside down. She’d desperately needed someone to hold her close and tell her she would survive…and she’d still hoped that person would be Cole. But he hadn’t shown his face at either the visitation or the funeral. Considering all they’d shared, his absence had been a slap in the face.

  She collapsed back against the pillow and closed her eyes, letting sleep steal her away from the memories she wished she could forget....

  Meg told herself to wake up, but the dream was so compelling she couldn’t leave it, not yet. Cole had come to her.

  With a contented sigh, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. Her head fit perfectly against his chest, just under his chin. Having him so close was a dream come true.

  She loved the way he smelled, a woodsy mixture of cologne and soap and maleness that brought a tingle to her lips and heat percolating low in her belly.

  His hand flattened against her lower back, drawing her up against the length of his body. Meg pressed herself more fully against him, the action bringing back memories of when they’d made love.

  The man now holding her in his arms had been the first to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her. But once wasn’t enough.

  She longed to once again run her hands over his body, to feel the coiled strength of skin and muscle sliding under her fingers. She wanted him to touch her in the same way, wanted to feel the weight of his body on hers. Wanted to feel him inside her.

  She planted a kiss at the base of his neck, his skin salty beneath her lips.

  “Are you sure this is wise?” The words seemed to come from far away.

  Of all the times for her conscience to make an appearance. Even in a dream, participating in a fantasy wasn’t always wise. But she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Being in Cole’s arms felt so right.

  She wound her arms around his neck and lifted her face.

  He folded her more fully into his arms, anchoring her against his chest as his mouth covered hers in a deep, compelling kiss. Dreamily, Meg stroked his thick hair. He tasted as sweet as spearmint candy from The Coffee Pot.

  His hand closed over one breast, cupping it high in his hand, circling the peak with his fingers. Meg inhaled sharply and, for a second, panicked. Until she remembered that this was a dream and there was no reason to deny herself anything.

  If he’d noticed her momentary hesitation, he gave no indication. He continued to kiss her with a slow thoroughness that left her weak, trembling and longing for more. When his tongue swept across her lips, seeking access, she eagerly opened her mouth to him, pulling his body on top of hers, her tongue fencing with his.

  The warmth in her lower belly turned fiery hot and became a pulsating need. There was only one problem. There were clothes between them. Thankfully she had a solution....

  She slipped her hand between them, smiling when she encountered a hard bulge, closing her fingers over the strained zipper, anticipation coursing up her spine.

  “Aunt Meg?”

  Her fingers stilled. Was that Charlie’s voice? What was the child doing in her R-rated—soon to be X-rated—dream? A moment later she heard his voice again, more insistent this time.

  Though every fiber of her being longed to ride this dream through to completion, Meg reluctantly opened her eyes…and found herself face-to-face with Cole Lassiter.

  Cole knew he should have pushed Meg away when she’d first snuggled up against him. But they were alone—Charlie had long since gotten up and headed into the living room to watch cartoons—and she’d looked so beautiful lying there, that he couldn’t resist. He’d wrapped his arm around her, his heart experiencing a tug of déjà vu in the process.

  When she kissed his neck, he somehow found the words to ask if she was sure. Sure she knew what she was doing. Sure this was really a road she wanted to go down. Her answer had been to twine her hands around his neck and lift her lips to his.

  From the shock in her eyes now, she obviously was having some second thoughts about that decision.

  Cole rolled off of her, sensing by the murderous look on her face that being tossed to the floor was a distinct possibility. Only when he was flat on his back did he realize they weren’t alone. Charlie stood at the foot of the bed.

  “My daddy used to kiss my mommy like that,” the boy said in a pleased tone. Charlie cocked his head and rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots. “Can I have a soda?”

  “Sure.” Meg’s voice sounded strangled. “Just make sure not to spill.”

  “’Kay.” The boy tossed the word over his shoulder as he raced from the room.

  Charlie had barely disappeared from sight when Meg punched Cole in the shoulder.

  “What did you think you were doing?” she sputtered. “Kissing me like that?”

  “You started it.” Cole pushed himself to a sitting position, his jeans tight enough to strangle, his heart pounding an irregular rhythm. His head may have gotten the message the fun was over, but his body definitely hadn’t.

  “What do you mean I started it?” She sat up, her hair a tangled mass of auburn curls.

  “Charlie left to watch cartoons. I was lying here, minding my own business, trying to decide if I should get up, when you kissed my neck.” Even as his body responded to her touch, he’d told himself to push her away.

  But then he’d taken a deep breath and his good intentions had been lost. Her perfume, a light floral fragrance, reminded him of spring. And of the good times they’d once shared.

  “I was sleeping,” Meg asserted, color high in her cheeks. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  He snorted. Granted, she’d kept her eyes closed, but she’d been awake enough to respond to his question.

  “I asked if you thought this was wise,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on. “You responded by kissing me.”

  She opened her mouth then shut it. After a long moment her lips turned up in a rueful smile. “Okay, I admit it. I was a willing participant in the madness.”

  “You were?” His voice rose.

  “I thought I was dreaming.” She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to kiss you. If Charlie hadn’t come in, I probably would have gone a lot further.”

  For a second he wondered if she was playing with him. Until he remembered her fingers on his zipper. His body stirred in response. “Seriously?”

  The pink in her cheeks deepened and she shrugged. “What can I say? It’s that same crazy physical attraction that brought us together way back when.”

  Cole pushed on his bad leg—hard—and the sharp stab of pain told him he wasn’t dreaming. But he had to be. It made no sense that Meg would confess her, well, her lust for him.

  “You feel it, too. Don’t bother to deny it.” Meg’s gaze dropped to just below his belt buckle. “I’m a medical professional. I recognize the signs.”

  His maleness surged as her gaze lingered.

  “I have no intention of denying it,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  From the moment she’d shown up on his radar screen, he’d wanted her with an intensity he couldn’t explain. She’d been standing by her locker in the old high school, baggy gold sweater, modest plaid skirt showing off long shapely legs, auburn curls spilling down her back.

  Jackson Hole High wasn’t that big of a school. Even though he and Margaret didn’t run in the same social circle, he’d known she was Travis Fisher’s sister, the oldest girl in a family of eight. President of the science club. Honor Society member. And, unlike most of her female
classmates, a girl who appeared to prefer the brainy geeks in her accelerated classes to football stars.

  Usually when he saw her, she had guys like Ed Rice, class valedictorian, hanging around. But this time she’d been alone.

  “Large breasts.” Meg pointed a thumb to her chest. “That’s why you liked me.”

  Her words brought Cole back to the present with a jolt. He could tell her there had been lots of girls back then with big boobs, er, breasts. She’d been different. But what would be the point?

  “There’s nothing wrong with physical attraction,” he said. “That’s the only reason you agreed to take that walk with me.”

  Even as the words left his lips, he hesitated. Meg hadn’t been a football groupie. If she was, she’d have talked about things that interested him, instead of English literature.

  The second they’d begun strolling through the Elk Refuge, she’d launched into a discussion of the books they’d read in class. Or rather, ones he should have read. Any knowledge he had of the novels had been based entirely on tidbits gleaned from class discussion. Or the movie version he’d rented from the video store.

  She’d obviously been nervous, searching for common ground. Yet all her chatter did was to emphasize the differences between them. Surprisingly the attraction remained.

  “I wanted to kiss you,” she admitted.

  “The physical pull was strong.”

  “Though I liked the kissing,” she said slowly as if choosing her words carefully, “I thought our relationship went beyond the physical.”

  He’d thought there was more to it, too. When he told her he loved her, he’d meant it.

  Cole wasn’t quite sure why she was acting as if she’d cared for him back then. Thanks to her good friend Ed Rice, he knew what she’d really thought of him. Intellectually, Cole had been judged and found wanting.

  “I had no complaints with the sex,” he said, swinging his legs to the side of the bed.

  What puzzled him most was how he could still desire someone who had no respect for him.

  “Why did you quit calling? Was there another girl? You could have simply told me if there was someone else. I know all the girls liked you.”

  Uh-oh. Cole recognized the rapid speech and run-together sentences. Though Meg wasn’t normally a big talker, the floodgates had been opened and he was going to get an earful.

  “Even Joy.” Meg gave a humorless laugh at his startled look. “Yep, my best friend had it bad for you. She never admitted it, at least not to me, but I could tell.”

  Joy. She was bringing up Joy? And here he’d thought the conversation couldn’t get any worse.

  “Travis suspected that you and I had been involved.” Meg picked at a piece of lint from her shirt. “But I never told him I slept with you.”

  Thank God for small favors. Her older brother had never been a violent guy, but all the boys knew that nobody messed with the Fisher girls.

  “Travis was surprised you didn’t come to our parents’ funeral, seeing as how you’d played ball together all those years,” Meg continued. “You were the only one on the team not there.”

  It would be so easy to dismiss those feelings, but Cole remembered how he’d felt when his friends had shown up for his dad’s funeral.

  “Sorry about that.” He bent over and tightened a strap on his brace. “Something came up.”

  “What could have been so important, Cole?” She spat his name as if it tasted bitter on her tongue. “So important that you couldn’t have shown my family—and me—a little respect?”

  The car accident that had claimed the lives of her parents had occurred in late spring. One more year. That’s all Cole had to make it through before he would graduate. Then he’d take his brother and get the hell out of Jackson Hole.

  The wrong person seeing that black eye could have ruined those plans. If they’d gone into foster care, all bets would have been off.

  Cole jumped to his feet, stifling a curse when his knee revolted at the sudden movement. He gritted his teeth and rounded the bed to where she stood, her arms tightly crossed and clasped to her chest.

  After what she’d done, she didn’t deserve an explanation from him. Well, she was going to get one anyway.

  “Do you want to know why I didn’t come to the funeral?”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she muttered with a dismissive wave. “That was a long time ago.”

  Her words said one thing, but the ramrod straightness of her back and the tight set to her shoulders told him it did matter.

  Perhaps another man would have held back the truth. Some might even say he’d be justified after what she’d done to him. But in his mind two wrongs never equaled a right.

  “I had a black eye,” he said. “I knew it’d raise questions if I came to the funeral with the side of my face looking like it’d been run through a meat grinder.”

  Surprise mixed with puzzlement in her gaze. “How were you injured?”

  “My stepdad used me for a punching bag,” he said in the same tone he might use to describe what he’d had for supper. He ignored the shock skittering across Meg’s face and continued. “It only happened when he drank. Unfortunately that was pretty much all the time.”

  “Oh, Cole.” Meg gasped, bringing two fingers to her lips. “I never knew.”

  “A couple of teachers suspected. I denied it.” He turned and walked to the window, gazing unseeingly out over the pine trees blanketed with snow.

  “Why didn’t you tell them the truth? They could have—”

  “What could they have done?” He turned and faced her, his back against the windowsill. It seemed oddly symbolic since he’d felt as if his back had been against the wall from the moment his mother had left him and his brother behind. “They’d have turned Cade and me over to social services. We’d likely have been split up. Putting up with Wally was better than taking that chance.”

  “Maybe they could have found a way to keep you and your brother together—”

  “Yeah, and maybe Santa Claus is real.” He raked a hand through his hair and expelled a harsh breath. “I couldn’t take the chance.”

  Her brows pulled together. “It sounds like this went on for quite some time. I can’t understand how none of the teachers noticed the abuse.”

  “Wally made sure he hit me where the bruises didn’t show.” A chill settled over Cole’s body. “I started football in middle school and played hard. That explained away any bruises. By the time I met you I could hold my own against him.”

  “What about Cade?”

  “For some reason he left him alone.” Cole gave a humorless laugh. “Other than the night I got the black eye. I stepped between them. There was no way I was going to let him pound on my little brother. After that episode Wally gave both of us a wide berth. Once I graduated from high school, I left Jackson and took Cade with me.”

  Contacting an uncle in Austin who he’d never met had been a long shot, but it had worked out. Cole only wished he’d done it years before.

  Soft fingers touched his arm and he jerked his gaze upward to find Meg standing beside him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your stepdad?”

  “Like I said, I told no one.” He met her gaze. “It was best.”

  “I’d have been there for you.”

  Cole gazed down into her luminous green eyes and realized how easy it would be to fall under her spell once again. To believe in the words sliding so easily from her soft lips. To think she genuinely cared and could be trusted.

  But he wouldn’t let himself be fooled a second time. Meg was a nice person with many good qualities.

  Yet, trust her?

  Not again. Not ever again.

  Chapter Nine

  The next week passed uneventfully for Meg. Life in her temporary mountain home settled into an easy rhythm. She helped Cole with his exercises and was astounded by his progress. Her only worry was Charlie. The boy had begun to suck his thumb and had started waking up during the night
crying.

  Yesterday, he’d had his first session with Dr. Allman, a Jackson psychologist who came highly recommended by July Wahl. Charlie appeared to enjoy his time with the man, saying Dr. Pete had a lot of really cool toys.

  Maybe everything with Charlie was under control. Her and Cole? Well, that relationship was still under construction.

  When Cole had opened up to her Sunday afternoon about his childhood abuse, she felt as if something momentous had occurred. She now understood him in a way she never had before. His honesty had chipped away at the hurt and anger encasing her heart all these years.

  Although Cole may not have explained why he’d so unceremoniously dumped her back then, now there were lots of potential explanations. Whatever the correct answer, Meg bet it had something to do with his tumultuous home life.

  She considered asking him straight out, but he appeared more withdrawn after his confession, as if dredging up the past had shot a hole in his emotions.

  “What’s taking so long?”

  Speak of the devil.

  Meg glanced up from the kitchen counter, where she’d been preparing vegetables for Lexi’s holiday festivities tomorrow, to find Cole standing in the doorway. For a second, she let her gaze linger, her eyes drinking him in. She’d never known a man who could look so good in jeans and a sweatshirt. She barely noticed the brace on his leg anymore. It had become as much a part of him as his dark hair and the barely perceptible cleft in his chin.

  “Charlie sent me to tell you that we’ve got the Chutes and Ladders game out. All we’re missing is you.”

  “Did he really say that?” Meg teased. “Or are you simply hoping for some adult conversation with your popcorn?”

  While she was working on the veggies, Cole had stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Charlie had done his part by dumping the finished product into a large bowl and carrying it into the family room.