Open Arms

by Marysol James

  “Tammy. Hey, are you OK?” He stroked her tumbled hair. “Sweetheart, are you with me?”

  She was crying now, crying like a child cries: helplessly and without restraint. Rob held her as close as he could, waiting for the storm to pass.

  Slowly, she calmed. She opened her eyes, looked in to his worried face.

  “Tammy? What happened? Are you alright?” He lifted her chin. “Did I hurt you? God, Tammy, what did I do wrong?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “Nothing. It was – it was incredible.”

  The tension left his face. “It was?”

  “Yes,” she wiped her cheeks, slick with tears. “It was – I just – I didn’t know that it could be like that. I wasn’t ready for that.”

  “So, you’re OK?”

  “More than OK,” she said. “That was the most amazing experience. I’ve never – I didn’t think it was possible for – for it to be like that.”

  He stroked her back, felt her body relax. “Wow. Well, I’m glad it was so good.”

  She kissed him now, sweetly, exhausted. “It was. Believe me. It was.”

  Minutes passed. They lay, silent. Tammy was cradled in Rob’s arms; she felt like she was floating.

  She raised her head. “You know what Kimana said, about me having to open the door to the wolf? To stop hiding and to face it?”

  He touched her hair. “Yeah.”

  “Well, I don’t think I was the only one who had to do that.”

  He gazed down at her. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

  She sat up a bit to see his face better. “I mean you.”

  “Me? I didn’t have anything lurking around, waiting for me to confront it.”

  “Sure you did. Your true nature.”

  “My what?” Rob stared down at her in confusion.

  “Well, think about it. You’re a nice guy, a good man – there’s never been any doubt about that. You’re a protector and someone who offers comfort and safety. Right?”

  “OK.”

  “But you’re also a different kind of protector – one who would fight to protect the people he cares about. Right?”

  “Of course. I think most people are.”

  “And you’re a wild thing in bed.”

  He blushed. “What are you even –”

  “I mean you tried so hard to deny that you wanted me in your bed, sweating and shaking beneath you – you wanted to be a gentleman and a good guy and just give me nice hugs. And the whole time? I wanted nothing more than for you to rip off my clothes and throw me to the bed and take me until I couldn’t even breathe anymore.”

  He was quiet, thinking about that.

  “Rob? Are you offended that I –”

  “No. No, I’m not. I think you may be right, actually.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. My whole life, I’ve always done the right thing, the safe thing. I’ve always been ‘the nice guy’. But really? Deep down inside? I’ve always had this other part of me…” He paused. “Not so nice. Darker, I guess. It gets angry and jealous and protective.” He grinned. “And it wanted to be between your legs almost from the word go.”

  “Maybe we can call it your wolf.”

  He laughed. “OK. That sounds good.” He kissed her, ferocious and possessive and she responded to his passion and heat. They broke apart and he stared her in the eye.

  “So what you’re really saying is that you want and like me to be a wild, sexy, unbridled beast in the bedroom.” He smiled down at her, his eyes alight. “And in the living room and the kitchen and the bathroom…”

  She laughed and ran her hands through the hair on his chest. “That is damn right. Just so long as you remember that you are my sexy beast.”

  “All yours,” Rob said.

  Chapter Nine

  “Tammy?”

  “Hey, Jules.”

  “How are you? How’s it going?”

  “Good.”

  “You got the tickets?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be flying back tomorrow afternoon. We’ll land in Denver just before two o’clock.”

  “I’ll come get you.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  “How is it being back in the big city?”

  Tammy looked out the window. “Well, it’s OK.”

  “Only OK?”

  “Yeah. Only OK.”

  “So, what’s the plan, then? You still want to move back there next week? You know you can have my apartment for as long as the landlord says it’s OK. Don’t worry about the rent… I’ve got it covered.”

  “Yeah, I know. I talked to him this morning about that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That I can stay here, no problem.”

  “I guess that’s settled, then.” Julie tried to think how to ask about Rob, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Jules.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yep. You want to know about me and Rob.”

  “I totally do! I mean, are you going to just go your separate ways? Try the long-distance thing for a while? Is he going to look for a job and move to New York? What? What?”

  Tammy laughed. “None of the above.”

  “What?”

  “I’m coming back with him. To stay.”

  Julie was delighted. “Oh, my God! Really? Do you want to come back to the ranch?”

  “Well, this is the part we need to talk about.”

  “What’s to talk about? You stay here, you work here, if you want. Or do you want to move in with Rob?”

  “Oh, no. No. We talked about it and it’s way too soon. I mean, if you really think about it, we’ve only been together for five days.”

  “Hmmm. That is true.”

  “As for working at Open Skies… please don’t be upset or hurt, OK? But I’m going to say no.”

  Julie paused. “You are?”

  “I am.”

  “OK.” Julie was puzzled. “Have you already found something in Denver or Colorado Springs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, my God!” Julie sat bolt upright in her office chair. “Really? But how?”

  “Rob.”

  “Rob?”

  “Yeah. You remember his sister, Christine? I told you about her the night I stayed over at your place?”

  Julie racked her brain; they had had a lot of wine to drink that night. “Oh, yeah. Yeah.”

  “Well, it turns out that she and her husband have a small apartment to rent in Denver. She called me and offered it to me. Gave me a pretty big break on the rent.”

  “You are kidding me.”

  “Nope, I am not.” Tammy twisted her hair around her finger. “So I know I won’t be in your guestroom or one cabin over, but I’ll still be a damn sight closer than New York.”

  “Just an hour away.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, you can still live in Denver and work at Open Skies – the commute is easy.”

  “Oh, I forgot that part. Christine also offered me a job.”

  “She what?”

  “Well, not Christine. A friend of hers named Tracy. Turns out, Tracy has a small clothing shop in Denver, and she’s always looking for new and original stuff to sell. One-off stuff sometimes, even. Rob told Christine about my background in fashion design and she told Tracy, who told me to send her a few sketches. I e-mailed them off yesterday, and she immediately placed an order for one of the patterns.”

  “Holy moly. Which one?”

  “Remember that dress I designed, the summer one? Floaty, with the crossed straps in the back?”

  “Ummmm. I think so.”

  “She loved it. Loved it. She wants it in two colors, and she’ll need it for mid- to late-spring, when women start
shopping for summer.”

  “Wow, that’s soon.”

  “Yep. I’ve got about two months to sew twenty dresses.” She shrugged. “It’s not much, I know, but it’s a start. If they sell well, she’ll need more. And we’re meeting next week to look over my other sketches.”

  Julie had never sewn so much as a button in her entire life, and she had no concept how much work or how many hours would go in to a single dress. “So, can you do it? The twenty dresses, I mean?”

  “I may need to hire some help, but I’ll see how it goes. I think it’ll be OK.”

  “And are you OK for start-up costs?”

  “Rob has already said he’ll buy me all the material and equipment I need, and help me with registering as a company and everything. It’s all a housewarming present, for when I move into his sister’s apartment.”

  “What a nice guy he is.”

  “Yep.” If only Julie had seen what this nice guy had done to her the day before, in Julie’s bed. Her body warmed and opened at the memory of his tongue inside of her.

  “So. I guess we’ll have quite a few things to celebrate when you get back here tomorrow. I think this calls for Champagne.”

  “It does, indeed.”

  “I am so proud of you, Tammy.”

  Tammy felt tears in her eyes. “Thanks, Jules. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t brought me to Open Skies.”

  The two women were quiet for a minute, thinking of all the things they would have missed if Julie hadn’t made the offer.

  “OK, well. I need to get going. I’m meeting Jake in ten minutes.”

  “A little afternoon delight?”

  “You know it.”

  They laughed, and then Tammy remembered something. “Hey? Julie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Any sign of the wolf at the ranch, or anyplace close by?”

  “No, none. Not since you opened that door – I still say that was damn stupid, by the way. You fool.” Julie shook her head. “But anyway, the wolf seems to have completely disappeared.”

  Tammy glanced over her shoulder at Rob. He was standing there in jeans, his broad chest bare, his blue eyes gleaming over the rim of his coffee cup. Even from the other room, she felt his physical strength, his feral desire and want for her.

  “No,” Tammy said, her legs going weak. “Not completely.”

  Excerpt from 'Open Eyes'

  (Open Skies #3)

  Dear Reader,

  I very much hope that you enjoyed ‘Open Arms’ (Open Skies #2). As a little gift to you, here is a short excerpt from the next book in the series, ‘Open Eyes’ (Open Skies #3).

  **

  Vicky Thompson fidgeted with the loose button on her blouse. She wished that she had noticed it in the motel earlier, instead of here and now, at Open Skies Ranch eighteen minutes before her interview. Dammit. She took a deep breath, tried to stay focused. Don’t let this small thing upset you, Vicky. Come on now.

  But it was upsetting to have buttons and threads hanging, mostly because she was already in a full-blown panic. Her chronic punctuality and worry about navigating back roads had got her to Open Skies almost ninety minutes early, and she had sat in the restaurant, nursing a coffee and watching in horror as one interviewee after another walked past the floor-to-ceiling windows. They were all so glossy and elegant and put-together. The women had perfect hair and certainly no loose buttons on their crisply-ironed blouses or runs in their sleek nylons. The men had tailored suits and shiny shoes and carried what were undoubtedly top-of-the-line laptops in smart briefcases.

  And they were just all so young. Vicky would be surprised if any of them had been born in the 1980s – forget about the 1970’s, like she was. OK, she had entered this world in the mid-70’s, but still. Most of these candidates looked fresh out of college. They looked, what? Twenty-two? Twenty-four? Meanwhile she was pushing forty and she both looked and felt it.

  Jesus Christ…what am I doing here?

  She almost ran a dozen times. Just paid for her coffee and slunk out to her rental car – a luxury that she had scrimped and saved to afford, in an effort to impress, ha! – and made a dash for it. Driven away down that winding dirt road, past the stables, and bombed right the hell out the front gate, never to be seen or heard from again. Maybe she’d find the first roadside bar around these parts and just down a few shots of Wild Turkey to calm the nerves.

  But she needed this job desperately; more than that, she wanted this job. Badly. So she sat and watched the parade of kids go in and come out and she stayed right where she was. She was going to see this through, come hell or high water.

  I promised Sonia. I promised Mom. I am going to do this.

  Time crawled at approximately a glacial pace and then, suddenly, it was one o’clock and time for her interview with Julie Everett and Rob Cathay. Vicky went back to reception, where the very nice young woman invited her to take a seat. Again. She had offered Vicky a chair ninety minutes earlier, but Vicky had been horrified at the thought of sitting there that whole time, observed by the hotel front desk staff and the shiny and brilliant job applicants.

  Maria Torres looked at the woman sitting and waiting for her interview. She was clearly terrified and doing an absolutely lousy job of hiding it. Maria felt for her: she was almost pathologically shy when she wasn’t at work, and felt great sympathy for others who weren’t outgoing or gregarious.

  There was something likeable about Vicky Thompson, though. She was soft, somehow. Not weak, not foolish, not a pushover. No, she was – what? Uncertain, Maria supposed. Certainly less confident than any of the other applicants, but most of the others had sharp edges. They were too shiny, too polished, too perfect. Kind of brittle and pointed. They reminded Maria of how Julie had been when she first arrived at Open Skies almost a year earlier, before Julie had started to unbend.

  Maria looked at Vicky sitting on the sofa in her trim black skirt and white blouse. Her shoes were black flats and she wasn’t wearing any jewelry besides a thin gold necklace. Her purse was plain black leather and boasted no designer label. She was quietly respectable and simple; nothing flashy or fancy whatsoever about Vicky Thompson. She was the exact opposite of all the other candidates, in their teetering high heels and expensive ties and with impressive logos prominently displayed on their phones, purses, and laptops.

  Instead, there she was on that sofa, her slim knees tightly pressed together, her narrow shoulders tense, her back not even touching the sofa. She was literally sitting at attention. She looked terrified but determined, and Maria found herself rooting for Vicky, quite hard.

  Wow. I really hope she gets this job. Assuming she survives the interview – she may die of nerves before that happens.

  The door of the conference room opened and Maria saw Julie come out with the other candidate. They were chatting amiably. They reached the reception desk and shook hands and the young man headed for the door. Julie glanced down at the paper in her hand and looked up at Vicky. Vicky sat up even straighter, if that was possible.

  “Hi, Vicky?” Julie said.

  Vicky shot to her feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Julie smiled at her and shook her hand. “I’m Julie Everett. Do you want to come this way?’

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Vicky followed Julie down the hallway and in to the bright conference room. A man was sitting there – a gorgeous man, Vicky noted even in her panic – and he stood up to greet her. He was tall and broad and had very blue eyes. His body was muscular, and she felt his strength radiating through the rather conservative suit he was wearing. But good Lord, he was young. Why are they all so damn young? This vision of male perfection smiled at her.

  "Hi, Vicky. I’m Rob Cathay.”

  They shook hands and Vicky tried to remember to breathe.

  They all sat and Julie looked across the table at her. “Well,
it’s certainly nice to have another redhead in the room!” She laughed.

  Vicky stared at her, seeing her properly for the first time. Julie Everett was – there was no other word for it – stunning. How had she missed it out in the lobby area?

  Julie was on the short side, but her curvy body more than made up for that. Large breasts, swelling gently under a casual dress in bright colors and a sunny yellow jacket on top. It should have all clashed with her fiery, golden-red hair, but somehow, she carried it off effortlessly. Julie’s optimism and brightness just glowed out of her, and Vicky found herself drawn to Julie Everett. She also found that she wanted to work for this woman. She wanted to be around that kind of happiness and joy every day. It would certainly be a nice change from her life now: so gray and bleak and fearful.

  Vicky tried to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Oh, my God. I have spoken exactly three times between here and the lobby, and each time I have said ‘Yes, ma’am’. Get it together. Right. Now.

  “Did you have any trouble finding us?” Rob asked.

  “Oh, no. No, I didn’t.”

  “And have you been here before?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m not really from around here.”

  Julie picked up Vicky’s CV. “Yes, I see that you’ve just moved here from Kansas.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when did you move to Colorado?”

  “Three months ago.” Vicky was glad that she had rehearsed this story over and over in front of the mirror in the motel bathroom.

  “And I see that you have quite a gap in your employment history.” Rob looked at the CV. “It was – what? A six year break?”

  And I felt every single second of it. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “What were you doing during that time?”

  “Well, I was married at the time,” Vicky said. “I met Carl at college in Topeka. We were both in business, and when we graduated, we both got jobs in Kansas City and moved there. I worked at a few smaller hotels there before I got a job at the InterContinental Hotel. I stayed there for seven years, in the marketing department.”