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Lead Me Home Page 10

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  Surely Tucker hadn’t said anything to Aurelia. That would be breaking an unspoken code unless you had it in for the guy. Tucker had no reason to sabotage Matthew.

  But Tucker had seemed sincere when he’d told Matthew to treat Aurelia well. Maybe he had noticed something in her behavior that indicated she was more vulnerable than Matthew thought. He needed to be alert to any signs that she was getting in over her head, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  So far, though, she’d seemed to be fine with the rules of the game. More than fine. She’d carried last night’s entertainment beyond where he would have. Thinking about it gave him an erection that made walking painful, so he did his best to push it out of his mind.

  Pockets bulging slightly with the condoms he’d tucked there, he climbed the steps to the back door and rapped on the screen the way he had the night before. His heart beat a rapid tattoo as he remembered what had happened the last time he’d gone through this door. But if Aurelia was okay with it, they’d have all night to enjoy each other, so no laundry-room sex was called for.

  She came to the door with a much louder greeting than she’d given him the previous night. “Matthew! We were just talking about you.”

  “I hope it was good things.” So she wasn’t alone in the kitchen. He reined in his disappointment with the thought that he didn’t have to go back to the bunkhouse tonight. If they couldn’t be alone now, they’d be alone later.

  “All good things. Sarah and Pete think you’re doing a terrific job with Houdini.” She drew him inside and squeezed his hand. “Come on in and have a little steak, and then we’ll discuss tomorrow’s menu.”

  He took heart from that little squeeze. She was going to be as happy to see Sarah and Pete leave as he was. But it was Sarah’s house, and Pete was her fiancé, so they had more right to be here than he did. He just hoped the bulge of extra condoms in his pockets wasn’t too noticeable.

  As he passed through the laundry room, he took off his hat but kept hold of it instead of tossing it on the dryer. But he’d never be able to look at another clothes dryer again without thinking of having sex with Aurelia on top of it. He didn’t dare think about it now, though, when he was about to walk into a brightly lit kitchen and make small talk with the people who had hired him to train their horse.

  Sarah and Pete sat at the same small table Aurelia had slipped underneath the night before in order to provide him with a wonderful sensual gift. He’d be better off not thinking about that, either.

  Tonight a bassett hound was under the table, his head on his paws. Matthew had heard that Sarah had a dog, but he’d never met the pooch. He said hello to Sarah and Pete before crouching down by the table. “And who’s this?” The hound gazed up at Matthew with sad eyes and his tail thumped the floor in greeting, but he seemed content to stay where he was.

  “Rodney Dangerfield,” Sarah said. “He believes in economy of movement. He’s not the sort of dog who races to the door when you come home, or scrambles to his feet to say hello to a visitor, especially after his dinner.”

  “I see.” Matthew held out a hand for the dog to sniff. He got a lick in return. “Nice to meet you, too, Rodney.” He scratched behind Rodney’s big floppy ears, and the dog sighed in apparent contentment. But he still didn’t move. “No, please don’t get up. Don’t trouble yourself, Rodney, really.”

  Sarah laughed. “I wanted a tracking dog, and I found Rodney listed in a shelter in Colorado. Pete and I took a drive down there and picked him up.”

  “He’s a good tracker, too,” Pete added, “once he gets moving. And if you ever want to wake up the neighborhood, Rodney’s your guy.”

  “I’ll keep those things in mind.” As Matthew rose to his feet again, he noticed Sarah and Pete each had a glass of wine, but the glasses were nearly empty. Good. He hoped they didn’t decide on a refill, although it really wasn’t his place to wish something like that. This was Sarah’s kitchen, after all.

  Pete stood and offered his hand to Matthew. “I wanted to officially thank you. Apparently you’ve managed to combine training that horse with helping the kids. That’s impressive.”

  Matthew shook Pete’s hand. “It wasn’t planned, believe me. Lester gets the credit. He finished his work early yesterday so he could come and watch me, and the more I looked at him, the more I thought Houdini might accept the weight of a boy his size. I had no idea Houdini had fond memories of a teenager who’d been nice to him. That was pure luck.”

  “Well, it’s all those kids can talk about, and Lester has become the mascot of the group.”

  “He has the potential to be a talented trainer when he’s a little older.”

  Sarah nodded enthusiastically. “I so agree. I told Pete we need to keep track of that boy and hire him at the Last Chance once he’s of age.”

  “He’d be an asset.” Matthew couldn’t help feeling proud of his part in Lester’s blossoming, although as he’d said, it had been partly by accident.

  “As for the other boy, Jeff.” Pete shook his head. “I didn’t do a good enough job vetting him and I apologize for that.”

  Sarah reached over and squeezed his hand. “Don’t blame yourself. Jeff has learned how to charm people when it suits his purpose.”

  “The boys were asking this afternoon if Jeff will come back,” Aurelia said. “Tucker mentioned that the Last Chance doesn’t give up on people or animals, and they wanted to know if you’d given up on Jeff. Tucker said something about counseling.”

  “That’s right,” Pete said. “I’ve set him up with a top-notch counselor and talked with his foster parents. I’m going to monitor his progress for the next few months and see if we can give him another shot next summer, but he’d be here on probation if that even happens. One screw-up and he’d be gone for good.”

  Matthew was reassured that Pete wouldn’t turn Jeff loose on the Last Chance community anytime soon. “He needs to get his act together before he’s allowed near the animals.”

  “I agree.” Still standing, Pete picked up his wineglass and drained it. “Ready to call it a night, my love?”

  “Yes.” Sarah drank the rest of her wine. “Now that the boys are all settled upstairs with their books and their video games, I’m ready to turn in.”

  Matthew kept his expression neutral. He hadn’t realized that Pete sometimes stayed overnight with Sarah, but, just as with him and Aurelia, that was their business.

  Sarah peered under the table. “Come on, Rodney. Time to drag yourself down the hall, big boy.”

  The dog took his time getting to his feet, but once he did, he followed Sarah and Pete as they started out of the kitchen. “Good night, you two,” Sarah said over her shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late planning tomorrow’s menus.”

  “We won’t,” Aurelia said. “Good night.” After giving them ample time to walk down the hall and continue on to Sarah’s bedroom, she turned to Matthew. “Ready for a little steak?”

  “Among other things.” He drew her into his arms. “The guys kicked me out of the bunkhouse.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  He pulled her in closer and relished the feel of her body tucked against his and her arms wrapped around his neck. “They seemed to think I should be up here with you, instead.”

  Her expression grew speculative. “They know something’s going on, don’t they? I could tell when I talked to Tucker.”

  “Why? What did he say?” Matthew mentally crossed his fingers that no discussion of moaning had taken place.

  “He just found it interesting that you took over Watkins’s bunk, and Watkins got involved with the cook. I think he sees history repeating itself.”

  “Up to a point.”

  “Right.” Her gaze was steady. “Up to a point.”

  “So I can stay?”

  “Did you bring more than one condom?”

  “I did.”

  She smiled and moved her hips suggestively against the bulge in his jeans. “Then yes, you can sta
y, cowboy.”

  9

  “HERE’S MY IDEA, now that I know I have you for the whole night.” Aurelia couldn’t believe her good fortune. She’d expected Matthew to say he had to leave in an hour or so. “Let’s do the menu-planning first and be done with it.”

  “That’s a sensible idea.” He pulled her in tighter. “But I don’t feel like being sensible. I want to kiss you.” He lowered his head.

  “No.” She wiggled out of his embrace. “I know what happens once you start kissing me.” She hurried over to a cupboard and pulled out a stack of cookbooks. “Here.” She shoved them at his chest. “Take these to the table.”

  He laughed, but he accepted the cookbooks and laid his hat on the table. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t you rather have this out of the way so we can concentrate on…each other?” She glanced deliberately at his crotch.

  He drew in a sharp breath. “You do know how to win an argument. I’ve been thinking about that under-the-table maneuver all day.”

  “Liar. You’ve been training Houdini most of the day.”

  “When I wasn’t training Houdini I was thinking of it.” He sat down and flipped open the first cookbook. “When do I get my steak? It smells wonderful.”

  “I’m keeping it warm in the oven and I’ll give it to you once we retire to my bedroom.”

  He glanced up, his gaze hot. “That sounded almost as if you plan to feed it to me.”

  “I might, at that.” She noticed the cookbook he was paging through. “Forget about that one for now. The second one in the stack has the recipe I was considering. It’s on page fifty-two.”

  He put aside the first book and thumbed through the second until he came to the recipe. “Beef with carrots? Seriously?”

  “You don’t think they’ll like it?”

  “They’ll love it, but I can’t believe you’d pick something so…basic.”

  “Reverse psychology.” She sat across the table from him. “It’s only beef and carrots with some spices, but I’m going to tell them it’s Boeuf avec carottes and stick in some sprigs of thyme to make it look more exotic. I want them to realize that just because something has a French name doesn’t mean they won’t like it.”

  “Brilliant. So are we done? Can we put these away, now?”

  “I want to make stuffed turnips for dinner.”

  “Oh.” He shook his head. “I don’t think that will work.”

  “It might, and I’m willing to take a chance. They’re getting Mary Lou’s chocolate chip cookies for lunch, and her chocolate pie for dinner, so I think it’s time to add something different, like stuffed turnips.”

  “What are they stuffed with? Because if it’s goat cheese, I’ve heard about the goat cheese, and it’s not popular. The guys have a real problem with goat cheese, and I—”

  “Matthew, Matthew.” She walked over and cupped his face in both hands. “Chill. It’ll be fine. There’s no goat cheese.”

  He caught her hand and turned his head so he could place a lingering, erotic kiss on her palm. “Thank you.”

  Just that one kiss, which didn’t even land on her mouth, and she was consumed with lust. But she tried her best to sound breezy and nonchalant, as if he hadn’t turned her into mush with one touch of his lips. If she intended to convince herself that she could handle this affair without getting sentimental, she had to master breezy and nonchalant.

  “You seemed a little frantic regarding the goat cheese,” she said.

  “Maybe it’s because they know we’re involved, so I’m afraid they’ll be watching for me to take a dive.”

  That made her laugh. “Take a dive? You mean like let me make something outrageous because you’re sleeping with me and now have a conflict of interest?”

  He gazed up at her. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “I won’t do that to you, Matthew. The stuffed turnips are a little bit different, but not gag-me different. I’ll try to come up with something else to put with it that they’ll like.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d consider hot dogs.”

  “No, but…” She had an inspiration. “Forget the stuffed turnips. I’ll make pizza and put everything from the turnip recipe on the pizza.”

  “Turnip pizza? I don’t think that’s a very good—”

  “Trust me, Matthew. I’m starting to get the hang of the menu wars. It’s not so much what you do as how you sell it.”

  He smiled. “That could be said for a lot of things.”

  “I guess so.”

  Reaching up, he stroked his knuckles over her throat and down to the V of her purple sleeveless blouse. “Like this button you left undone, for instance. It makes a guy think that when one button is unfastened, why not two?” He demonstrated his skill at that activity by slipping the second button free while still holding her gaze.

  She wouldn’t have thought such big hands would be so adept at delicate tasks. Thinking of what else those hands could accomplish made her pulse skitter. “I suppose it could have that effect.”

  “Just so you know, whatever you’re selling, I’m buying.” Still looking into her eyes, he undid another button.

  “But you haven’t even inspected the goods.”

  “Yes, but I intend to.” He slipped another button free and glanced down at the purple lace he’d uncovered. “Mmm. Very pretty.”

  “Glad you like it.” She quivered with anticipation.

  “Oh, and the bra’s nice, too.” Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against the spot just above her cleavage.

  It was their only point of contact, and yet his moist, velvet touch sent waves of delight to the tips of her fingers and toes, and straight up to the roots of her hair. She closed her eyes as he made a slow circle with his tongue and blew on it.

  “That’s O for orgasm,” he murmured. “I owe you one.”

  If he continued this subtle but effective assault, they’d soon be even. Her panties were already wet. “Are we keeping score?”

  “That wouldn’t be fair.” Glancing up at her, he slowly redid the buttons, including the one she’d left open on purpose because it gave a shadowy glimpse of cleavage. He’d been right about her motivation on that. “Given half a chance, I can rack up points faster than you can.”

  “You think so, do you?” Her body tightened, wanting him to prove it ASAP.

  “After last night, I know so.”

  “Them’s bold words, cowboy.”

  “I’ll bet a pocketful of condoms on it.”

  She took a shaky breath. “The way you’re talking, you may not want to bother with that steak I have warming in the oven.”

  He adopted a drawl. “Oh, yes, I do, little lady. It smells absolutely delicious, and I’m looking forward to having you serve me dinner in bed.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “I see. But in order for me to do that, you’d have to actually be in a bed.” She could hardly wait to have this big muscular cowboy stretched out naked on a mattress.

  “That’s true. Do you happen to have one handy?”

  She stepped back and pointed. “Right through that door.” She’d put on clean sheets, folded them back and dimmed the lights. “I’ll bring your tray in shortly.”

  “Excellent.” He stood and cupped the back of her head. “I’ll look forward to it.” Then he kissed her with enough tongue, heat and passion to leave her gasping as he walked through the door and into her bedroom. “Don’t forget I like it juicy and hot,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Not a problem.” Both she and the steak would satisfy that requirement nicely.

  * * *

  MATTHEW STARTED STRIPPING off his clothes the minute he stepped inside the room. Aurelia kept a neat bedroom, which didn’t surprise him, so he folded his clothes and laid them on a suede-covered easy chair in the corner by the window. The curtains were drawn, but two bedside table lamps, their bases made of carved wooden stirrups, cast a muted glow through shades created to look like leather.

  A
lthough Matthew had been perfectly happy sleeping in the bunkhouse, he’d be even happier sleeping—or not sleeping—in this little room. The comforter on the queen bed had a cattle-brand pattern and was turned down to reveal smooth white sheets. He hoped they wouldn’t be smooth for long.

  As he undressed, he took stock of the Charles Remington paintings on the wall, the wagon-wheel headboard and the braided rugs on either side of the bed. The room had been decorated in Old West nostalgia, and Matthew loved it. As much as he enjoyed being on the move, there was something to be said for staying put long enough to create a personally pleasing room like this one.

  She had an attached bath, which meant they were self-contained in this apartment off the kitchen. The setup felt cozy and sexy as hell. They could have some good times in this room while he was at the Last Chance.

  Tucking a condom behind the lamp on the bedside table, he propped a couple of pillows against the headboard and climbed into bed. He pulled the sheet up and had to laugh at the tent effect. But he didn’t want her to laugh, too, so he added the comforter.

  “Hot and juicy, coming up.” She walked through the door carrying a lap tray fragrant with the scent of roast beef. A glass of red wine sat on the tray, along with a slice of what he’d bet was homemade bread. But it wasn’t the food that made his mouth water.

  In the midst of preparing his tray, she’d managed to reconfigure her outfit. She was minus the bra, and she’d left the blouse unbuttoned but tied at her midriff. Technically her breasts were covered, but not by much. Her jeans were gone, too, leaving only a purple thong between him and paradise. Her feet were bare.

  He gulped. “You certainly know how to serve a guy dinner, Aurelia Imogene Smith.”

  She turned and nudged the door closed with her shoulder before walking over to the bed. “You can pretend you’re in a private gentleman’s club.”

  “No pretending necessary. I am.” When she leaned over to set the tray on his lap, he got an eyeful, which had a predictable effect.

 

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