Ryder’s eyes flinched, and she didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. She’d probably said too much, and she couldn’t take it back now, so she would have to suffer the consequences.
20
The confession shattered every bit of resolve Ryder had to keep his distance. He remembered what Sully had said about waiting too long, and he knew it was probably already too late. But as he looked into the pools of Amanda’s eyes, he couldn’t hold back. He had to say something before he exploded or collapsed from the pain of holding it in.
“Why does it have to be some alternate reality?” he asked. Her eyes widened, and he plowed forward before she could kick his already bruised ego. “I know we’re all wrong for each other, Amanda, and I know we might as well live halfway around the world from each other considering how different Virginia and Five Forks are. And I know I don’t fit into the mold you’ve built for the man you want to be with for the rest of your life. But we’re both fighting so hard against something that feels right, even if it’s wrong. Couldn’t we just…take a chance on fate? See what happens if we both give in?”
Her lips parted, and she looked like she might cry at any moment. He obviously wasn’t going to get the answer he’d hoped for, and he raged at himself, vowing never to take a chance like this again. He couldn’t imagine being this overwhelmed by a need for someone else, and even if he was, it wouldn’t be worth the disappointment and emptiness left in the wake of her swift departure.
“Ryder?” She made his name a question, and he realized he’d dropped his gaze. He forced his eyes to meet hers, ignoring his instinct to close off and give her a blank stare. She lifted her gloved hand and pressed her palm to his cheek. It was warm, and he could smell the scent of her lotion through the thin material. He wanted to close his eyes and enjoy it, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her long enough.
Then, she sprang at him. She was out of her seat with her lips on his in a flash, and he caught her by the shoulders, clinging for dear life as she blew him away like a belligerent tornado crashing through town. The desperation he felt poured out of him as he tasted her sweetness, the pent-up desire she hadn’t let him fulfill before. He plundered her mouth, the fullest and most demanding kiss he’d ever laid on someone, and she seemed to welcome it, taking small pants of air when she could without breaking contact.
Ryder lost himself and he didn’t care if he drowned. He could die happy, knowing that at least he’d gotten one last taste and hadn’t faced a life of loneliness after losing her. His groin clenched, and his nether regions twitched in anticipation, but he told himself to calm down and just take what he could get without expectations. If this was it, he wanted to milk everything from it he could without scaring Amanda off.
Eventually, she drew away, tugging on his bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her face was mere inches from his, and he could have leaned in and kissed her again, begged for more. But her eyes were closed like she was savoring the moment, and he didn’t want to interrupt, especially since her expression was one of complete, sensual satisfaction. In the heat of the moment, he could have pressed for her to stay and gotten her to agree, but that wouldn’t be fair. Amanda wasn’t going to tell him how to live his life. In fact, even if it turned out that Fillmore hadn’t set the fire, Ryder doubted she would continue to represent them, if only because she had no intention of removing any of these ranchers from their homes. He would give her the same respect. She could make her own decisions, and if she chose to stick around and discover just what they could build together, he’d be grateful. But if she decided to say goodbye, he would let her go.
He loved her, and that’s what you did when you loved someone.
When she opened her eyes, she seemed to realize she was on her knees and practically in his lap, her hip almost honking the horn, and she grinned shyly as her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Maybe this isn’t the best place for a make-out session. It’s a little tight in here.”
It brought a smile to his face, and he asked, “Do you have another proposition?”
She laughed, the sound of bells he thrived on, and shook her head. “Not right now. But later…” She trailed off, and the heat in her eyes caused flares of need to lick at him in all the right places. She sighed and sat back down, gazing at him thoughtfully. “This is going to be complicated, no matter how you spin it.”
Ryder didn’t care. If she was thinking about that, it meant she was considering taking this to the next level and running with it. “It doesn’t have to be, not right now,” he said. “You’re here, and I’m not going anywhere. Let’s just give it a chance and see where we get. When the time comes, we’ll talk about the complicated stuff.”
She bit her lip and giggled. “Ryder Sieverson, I haven’t laughed this much in years. What have you done to me? I’m a lawyer, for Pete’s sake! Lawyers are dry, angry people who organize their pantry alphabetically and face all the labels outward. We don’t laugh and throw ourselves at men and face our fears just to make them happy. We don’t have any fears, except losing a case!”
He beamed but quirked a brow at her. “That doesn’t have to be true. A rancher digs in the dirt and uses bad grammar and chews tobacco. We get stupid around women and love our animals more than humans. Okay, I fit those details. But I smoke on occasion and never chew. And I try not to use bad grammar. I have machines that take care of the digging for me, and a couple of ranch hands that do most of the tough work. You can always break the mold.”
“I don’t know how,” she said, sobering. “I’ve had a one-track mind for so long. This is so far out of my comfort zone I feel naked and vulnerable.”
And that was his cue to lighten the mood with a salacious sneer. “I don’t have a problem with naked and vulnerable, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and they both laughed. It felt like the cage that had been closing in and crushing him had just burst open and freed him. And the more giddy Amanda seemed, the better he felt.
Changing the subject before he turned around and took her back to his bedroom without finishing what he’d stared for the day, he said, “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, you have a date with a horse.”
She was instantly quiet with wide eyes, and he reached out to take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, if you can take a chance on a snarling cowboy, you can get on a horse’s back.”
She still didn’t seem convinced, but she said, “If it makes you smile, I’ll try.” She had no idea how much those words meant as he finally put the truck back in gear and turned the corner. He took the first satisfying deep breath he’d had in days and let himself begin to hope again.
21
Anxiety bloomed inside Amanda’s chest like a spring blossom as she sat on the hearth in Ryder’s living room, staring into the fire. She didn’t know how she could be cold on the outside and burning hot within, but that was the strange feeling she faced as she waited for him to come back from “slopping” the pigs. The word was almost vulgar, and she was glad he’d made her stay inside, claiming it was too cold after sundown. Mostly, she thought he was afraid she’d be so disgusted she’d lose the appetite that raged inside her.
She focused on the center of the fire, just above the bottom log, where the flame was bright blue. That was the hottest part of the flame, and the only time the temperature surpassed that was if the fire actually turned white. It was so intriguing how the colors that represented cold—blue and white like ice—also came with the most extreme temperatures at the other end of the spectrum.
Maybe that was why she was hot and cold all at once. Her core was so hot it was molten blue and white, causing her exterior to freeze around it. The logic didn’t work, but she didn’t care. All she could really think about was getting out of these jeans and under the covers, buried beneath Ryder’s warmth.
The door opened with a whistle of wind that slammed it against the wall, and she jumped. It was silly; nothing should scare he
r anymore. She’d wrestled with two of the biggest dogs she’d ever seen, and she’d ridden a horse that was almost twice her height for more than half a second without mishap. She’d even fed Debbie Reynolds a carrot and a sugar cube, laughing and blanching at the same time as horse slobber coated her palm.
Her heart thumped in an irregular rhythm as Ryder shed his coat and the rest of his winter gear, revealing his simple long-sleeved thermal shirt and jeans. It was what those clothes hugged that made her mouth run dry and her blood boil. The slight chill disappeared, and she knew it had nothing to do with the fire burning beside her. It was the heated gaze and seductive smile on his face.
Before she’d sat down, she’d taken precautions against another interruption, turning her phone completely off. She hadn’t done that since she bought the thing, and it was freeing. But it also meant there was no getting off the hook this time. She was perfectly okay with that as she stood and met him halfway across the room.
They didn’t touch, and they didn’t speak, but it was the most erotic silent exchange Amanda could imagine as they shared just a moment of mutual arousal and intent. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his chest, a quiet signal that she was ready and willing, and he covered it with his larger hand. It seared her skin in a delicious way that made her shudder as things low in her gut twisted and tightened in anticipation.
Closing his fingers around hers, he smiled down at her and drew her toward the turntable. She frowned, confused. She’d assumed they would go to his bedroom, but he released her hand for a moment and crouched to open the cabinet, flipping through a collection of vinyl until he found what he was looking for. She peered around him as he straightened to put it on, and it made her smile. Eric Clapton. She’d grown up on classic rock, and when he played “You Look Wonderful Tonight”, her eyes burned with tears she wouldn’t shed.
So, he could be romantic, and Amanda appreciated the gesture even more when he turned to her and held out his hand, still not breaking the silence that encompassed him but inviting her to dance. She accepted readily, and they swayed slowly around the room, never breaking eye contact. Ryder was intense, when she got him alone, and she wondered if he’d be like this in bed. It didn’t matter, since she couldn’t imagine him being a bad lover.
But Amanda realized then that it wasn’t the sex she would remember if they didn’t manage to work out some arrangement to be together. It would be this, the shared intimacy that didn’t include a physical release. It would be the way he’d shared his favorite things about the country with her, the way he danced with her in delight in the morning and in serious, quiet contentment in the evening. The way he looked at her as if she was precious. Those were the memories she would keep if everything else fell apart.
As the song ended, he dipped his head to kiss her, a brush of lips, a flick of his tongue, and she sighed, her knees wobbling and her legs weak. Her toes curled as he dove in for a deep, demanding kiss, and she gave herself over to the sensation. There was no need for thought, no need for questions. All she needed was a physical touch and an emotional connection. And Ryder offered that freely, nothing held back.
He broke the kiss and, this time, when he took her hand, he took her to the bedroom, stopping only long enough to turn the volume down on the music rather than turning it off.
His room looked and smelled masculine. Large oak furniture, dark-colored linens, and little adornment on the walls or dresser. And his cologne hung in the air, filling her nostrils until she felt the moisture between her thighs thicken. She was more than ready for this moment and suddenly felt like she’d waited an eternity for it. Had she always hoped to meet someone like Ryder and just failed to acknowledge it?
No questions, she reminded herself. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the here and now, and as Ryder took careful measures to pull first her shirt and then his off, and then knelt to gently peel her jeans from her legs, along with her panties, she trembled. Amanda didn’t let emotions influence her decisions. She always counted on reason. But with Ryder on his knees, gazing up at her like she was a goddess he wanted to worship, she couldn’t deny that love was a big enough emotion to override all sensible thought.
And if what she felt for this man wasn’t love, then she never, ever wanted to experience anything that large for anyone. This was so big it made her chest hurt and her throat close. He stood and reached for his fly, but she gently shoved his hand away, wanting to remove the last vestiges of barriers between them herself. Naked and vulnerable. That’s what she was. And she wanted him to be the same.
Amanda found nothing vulnerable about him. Every muscle was deeply cut into smooth skin. And when he finally stepped out of the pool of denim at his feet to come to her, he didn’t pull her to him, didn’t even wrap an arm around her. He simply stood close enough for their bodies to touch, and it caused erotic pleasure to course through her at the speed of light as he bent his head to kiss her in slow, tender measures.
She shuddered, unable to control her reaction, and he touched his fingertips to hers before drawing them up her arms, over her shoulders, and down her sides. She shivered, her flesh covered in tiny bumps, and he rested his hands on her hips as he moved her backward until he could ease her onto the bed. He moved with her, as if they were connected at various points by tandem strings, and he never broke eye contact as he loomed over her with that hard body filled with heat.
The blue flames licked at her again as he kissed down her neck and over her breasts, cupping them with his rough, callused hands. He traced lines over her body, and she explored his back and chest and his abdomen discovering every inch of him.
But she’d driven him to a breaking point, which satisfied her, and he lowered himself between her thighs, burying himself as he sought entrance.
Now, he thrust in earnest, stroking her inner walls like a smooth caress that left a blazing fire in its wake. She clutched at him, tightening her arms around his neck and threading her fingers into his hair. She took his mouth with the same desperation she could feel in him as he took her body, and she curled herself around him, wanting to swallow him and let him encompass her as if they were a single entity.
She rocked her hips with his, heightening the pleasure until she saw stars burst in front of her eyes with another, more forceful release. His pace quickened as she throbbed around him, and they moved together in a frenzied but sensual coupling. Ryder seized and cried out, shoving himself deep into her with his peak, and she screamed as her body convulsed with the intensity of an orgasm she hadn’t expected. Her eyes flew open, and she saw his face, contorted with the pleasure-pain of a hot, satisfying completion. It made her smile.
How could she ever have thought she could live her life in a relationship that didn’t include this sort of passion? This shared ecstasy? Amanda reveled in the quakes that continued to assault her body for several minutes, and she was glad that Ryder didn’t pull away. She wanted him on her, warming her. In her, filling her. She never wanted to let go of this moment.
22
Paulson had more than just a few reports to share, and Ryder realized that was why he’d come in person rather than just emailing the papers or having them brought by courier. He came with a computer-animated recreation of the fire, based on his findings, to see if he was close to the actual progression of the event.
As he explained what he’d determined, Ryder was glad he’d asked Amanda to join him, even if he found it difficult to keep up professional appearances. He wanted to touch her, but he folded his arms over his chest in an effort to keep his hands to himself.
“Let’s start with the fact that, plain and simple, this is a clear case of arson. I took a team out to the spot where I found the cloth and smelled the accelerant, and we’ve agreed that was essentially the point of origination. We can’t be sure exactly which leaf or tree actually caught fire first, but that’s where our assailant did the dirty work.” He pointed to a map laid out on the desk with an “X” at that spot. “Looking back at the weather
records, the wind speed and direction support that, based on the spread of the flames.”
Ryder grew more and more disturbed with each detail, and it intrigued him how precise the science could be. Then again, for the generous donation he’d made from the county funds, he half expected to hear that they’d found a partial fingerprint on the burnt cloth and matched it to the crook.
“So,” Paulson said, “the accelerant was a mixture of gasoline and lighter fluid. The arsonist is an amateur. He only needed one or the other, but apparently he wanted to make sure the forest went up in a blaze of glory. So, he doused the rag in both, wrapped it around a small branch like a torch as evidenced by microscopic remnants of bark interlaced with the weaving of the material, and probably caught several trees before he hauled ass out of there. He dropped the torch, and the rest probably looked something like this.”
He pressed a button on his laptop, and a very realistic animation played through that, as far as Ryder could tell, closely mirrored what he’d seen that night. “I wasn’t there early, but that looks right to me,” he told Paulson when the video finished.
“I’m sure it does.”
Amanda, who had been completely silent until that moment, cleared her throat. “I’m following you fully, but for my personal report, could you tell me how you know this was arson and not a campfire gone wrong?” She glanced up at Ryder, clearly apologizing for the question. He smiled at her to let her know he wasn’t upset. She had to get all the details, too, if she was going to make the case for Barrow, Marten, and Biggs to drop Fillmore Investments as a client.
“Fair enough,” Paulson said. “Like I said, an experienced arsonist would know that he only needed one accelerant to turn Forks Forest into Dante’s Inferno. And to expand on that, if said arsonist knew anything about that forest and the trees in it, he would also be aware that he could avoid suspicion by not using any accelerant. Most of the species are very dry, and since this happened before your little snow apocalypse, there had been little enough precipitation for the trees to really dry out. They would have sparked without gas or lighter fluid. And if he had taken the torch with him, this probably would have been ruled an accident.”
The Cowboy In Me (Wild At Heart Cowboys Book 2) Page 10
