“Go on,” Ella shooed. “The night’s still young.”
Lindy walked slowly toward the truck. Her heart beat in cadence with every step she took. As she neared, she saw Cole lean against the pickup, cross his arms over his chest, and hike his foot against the front tire.
“Hello,” he drawled as she approached.
“Hello.”
When she stopped several feet away and glanced around to see if any of the guests were nearby, he motioned her forward. “Come closer. They’re all in their cabins.”
With her body humming, she glided toward him. He straightened and gently pulled her close. He slid his fingers through her hair and then palmed her face.
“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” he asked.
A lump formed in her throat, preventing her from answering.
“I’ll tell you. You make me want to howl with the coyotes, or climb on a horse and ride to the ends of the earth.”
“Are those good things?” she said when she found her voice.
He chuckled and flashed her that smile that melted her bones. “Yes, Lindy. Those are very good things.”
Before she could react, his lips were moving down her neck, peppering her with light kisses, sending gooseflesh rippling over her skin and her into another world. When he stopped and gazed into her eyes, he said, “Would you like to go for a ride with me?”
Powerless to object, Lindy climbed into his truck and Cole drove off the ranch and headed for town.
Fifteen
“Home sweet home,” Cole said, pulling into the driveway of his house. He left the motor idling, because he hadn’t decided, for sure, that he was going to ask her in. That had been the plan when he invited her for a ride, but now that they were here, he was having second thoughts. While a painful erection had plagued him on the drive home, guilt now tugged at his gut.
Dancing with Lindy, and feeling her breasts pressed against him and her thighs rubbing between his, had sent him into a wild spiral of passion and physical desire. There was nothing more he wanted than to savor her sweet taste and spend the night locked in a fierce frenzy of lovemaking. From the look that filled her face, she wanted the same thing.
But what would happen tomorrow, if they made love tonight? Would they ignore each other as he drove her back to the ranch, both embarrassed and wishing they’d never succumbed to their cravings? Would Lindy even give him the chance to seduce her once they were inside? That question suddenly darted through his jumbled mind.
Showing no mercy, Jordan had shot him down the first and only time he’d brought her here, which had been humiliating. With Rachel, there had been many nights of passion and love shared between them in his bed. But no woman had been in his bed since. Could he bring someone new into it now? Six months was not a long time. He’d loved Rachel. Being with Lindy, or anyone else so soon after Rachel might feel like he was being unfaithful.
But hadn’t Rachel’s last email been clear? They were over, with no hope of reconciliation. Sleeping with Lindy wouldn’t be cheating on her.
But would he be cheating himself? He was long past one-night stands. What he wanted most was a partner, a life mate. Someone who would stick with him through thick and thin, for richer or poorer, for better or worse—like his mother had stuck with his dad.
Cole turned his head to look at Lindy, with his insides twisting and his head pounding with confusion. Was she that kind of woman? Although his loins burned with need for her, his gut hinted she was not the stick-around type.
Something continued to nag at him. There was no shaking the feeling that she was hiding a secret. And that secret might be the reason for her eventually taking off and leaving like Rachel did. His galloping heart meant he felt something deep inside. But the risk of losing it again was too great. He sighed, having made his decision.
“Lindy, this isn’t easy for me to say,” he started. Before another word escaped his mouth, she leaned across the console and drew his face to hers. As she molded her lips to his, Cole breathed in her intoxicating scent and felt the crotch of his jeans tighten again. Lindy’s hot mouth felt like a branding iron. When she softly moaned with pleasure, a groan tore from his chest and he deepened the kiss—powerless to resist her magnetic pull.
His warm tongue searched her mouth, and she answered back with her tongue suckling his. Losing himself in the erotic sensations ricocheting through his body, Cole’s hand slid from her neck, down her collarbone and to her breast. When he began to fondle her, she stuck her hand under the console and shoved it up and scooted next to him. Still kissing, his hand slipped under her shirt, and his fingers delved inside her bra and gently squeezed her breast. At the same time, her hand moved to his crotch and began rubbing. Blood surged through him like a speeding freight train.
Was this really happening? In the truck?
“Wait,” he said, sucking in a deep breath of air and grabbing her hand. Slowly, he exhaled and withdrew his hand from underneath her shirt. “What are we doing here?”
With intensity shining from her brown eyes, Lindy answered in a ragged breath, “We’re losing control. It’s what we both want, right?”
Cole plowed a hand through his hair unsure of anything except the way he felt when she was near him. Her pleading gaze held him in an iron grip.
“Isn’t it?” she repeated.
“Maybe it’s what we thought we wanted,” he said, shaking his head. “But the timing isn’t right. It’s too soon. I’m sorry I brought you here, and if I led you on.”
Disappointment glistened on her face, but Lindy displayed no anger as she slowly scooted back into the passenger seat and straightened her shirt. Although she squared her shoulders, her expression was not one of defiance, and her words weren’t cross when she addressed him again.
“There’s no need to apologize, Cole. We’re both adults who got carried away. I’m the one who’s sorry. I kissed you first.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I kissed you back, and I don’t regret it. I like kissing you. I just don’t think we ought to…”
Lindy smiled and then glanced out the window, apparently understanding his inference. “The moon is beautiful tonight. I guess we can blame our impetuousness on it.”
When she turned her head to meet his gaze again, Cole wondered if it was too late to change his mind. Her skin glowed luminescent in the dim of the moonlight, and those ripe lips were so plump and juicy. Could they rewind and continue where they’d left off without hurt feelings? His erection was painful.
No, he realized even before she suggested he drive her home. The moment had passed.
Since he’d never shut off the truck, Cole backed out of the driveway and turned onto the highway, guided by the light of the moon. “Would you like to hear a story?” he asked, to cut the silence between them. “It’s a story about the Tularosa moon.”
“The Tularosa moon?”
“Yeah. It’s a fairytale I grew up with.”
“Sure.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her staring at him.
When he ended the tale, his gaze slid to her to gauge her reaction. It seemed an eternity before she finally spoke.
“Do you believe in the legend?” she asked.
A muscle quivered in his jaw. “As far as I’m aware, it’s just an old wives tale. But I suppose anything is possible.”
He glanced at her again, and she nodded her head. “You found me under the Tularosa moon that first night. Do you remember? In the meditation garden?”
His memory swept him back. How could he forget? “I remember.” He turned onto the road leading to the ranch. The cabins were dark as they passed by them on the way to headquarters. Cole pulled up to the hitching post and shut off the engine so as not to wake his mother inside the house.
“It’s no longer a Tularosa moon,” Lindy said dreamily, as she peered out the front windshield. “But it’s still pretty. I made a wish on it tonight, before you asked me to dance.”
When Cole looked at her this t
ime, his chest tightened and his heart picked up its pace. What had her wish been?
Her head pivoted, and she leaned over and brushed her lips across his. She smiled, but apparently, she was not going to tell him what she’d wished.
Without thinking, his finger made a trail from her lips to the pulse-beating hollow of her throat. Inching toward the door, she reached for the handle, and he said, “Let me walk you to the house.”
“No need. The porch light is on.”
“So it is.”
She fished the house key out of her pocket. “Good night, Cole. I had a nice time tonight.”
Nodding, his voice caught when he answered, “Sweet dreams, Lindy.”
****
She crawled between the cool sheets and stretched out on her back to stare up at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. Like a teenager with a first crush, she couldn’t get Cole out of her mind. Waltzing with him tonight and then making out in his truck was the closest thing to romance and a relationship she’d had in such a long time.
By the time he’d driven her to his house, she’d been primed and ready to throw away her fears and worries for a few hours and make love to him. She’d thought that was what he’d wanted, too. He’d certainly felt ready when she’d touched him, she recalled with a smile.
The fact that he’d stopped them before they’d made a mistake was testament to the kind of man he was. She’d been disappointed at first, but that disappointment had quickly turned to respect. She knew now that Cole was not a man to take advantage of a woman. His own needs had come secondary to doing what he felt was right, for both of them.
God must have broken the mold after He made that man, she thought, turning onto her side to gaze out the window. “His former girlfriend must be crazy to have left him for a job,” Lindy said aloud, still tasting Cole’s kiss on her mouth and smelling his masculine scent on her skin. Thinking of Rachel drew her thoughts to Jordan, the other woman he’d lost. The woman she’d be giving a massage to on Monday. Maybe she’d learn more about Cole from her.
As the white-faced moon drifted into view beyond the window, Lindy thought about the story Cole had told her. According to the legend, if he believed it, she would be the woman he’d marry someday. The picture of them together with a family brought a smile to her face and caused her heart to turn over with tenderness.
Just as fast, her heart sank. That dream would never come true. She’d never be able to marry Cole, or anyone else, as long as Skin was calling the shots with his gang. Trapped in a life of limbo, Lindy knew she was setting herself up for pain and misery as long as she allowed herself to think of her relationship with Cole as anything other than the boss’s son.
“It isn’t fair,” she cried softly.
She turned onto her stomach and mashed her face into the pillow. Hot tears sprang from her eyes, dampening the pillowcase. It had been months since she’d cried. Tired of being strong and brave, Lindy’s shoulders shook, and she let the waterworks flow until there were no tears left.
“If only he were dead,” she gritted, punching the pillow. “More than anything in the world, I wish that evil son of a bitch was dead. I want my life back. And I want it now!”
Sixteen
Sunday morning, Skin paced the perimeter of the exercise yard with his head bent and his mind fixated on one thing—how long it would take Magick to hack into the government computers. Lil Man had seemed to believe it wouldn’t take the nineteen-year old kid long. But Skin didn’t intend on staying in this hellhole waiting for confirmation that the task had been accomplished.
He’d be breaking out soon. And by the time he made his way to the Brotherhood’s meeting place, he expected Magick to have completed his job.
With Joy Elliott’s personal information in his hands, and verification that her only source of communication had been eliminated, there’d be no stopping his mission. He’d find, stalk and destroy her.
Skin closed his eyes. Imagining that pivotal moment caused a quickening in his chest.
“Hey man. We gotta talk.”
When a hand grabbed his sleeve and wrenched him off the walk and into the shadows around the corner of Building B, Skin opened his eyes, pissed that he’d been jerked from his ruminations.
“Don’t touch me,” he spat, twisting away from Delbert, the short inmate who’d taught him to pick locks and forge keys. “What do you want?”
“I wanna know when we’re busting out of this joint. You haven’t talked to me in weeks. I’m itchin’ to go. My woman’s waiting for me on the outside, but she says she ain’t gonna wait much longer.”
Skin raked him with a narrow gaze. “Cool your jets, Casanova. I’ll let you know when it’s time. In the meantime, shut up and stay away from me.” When he turned to leave, Delbert spun Skin around by the arm and jabbed a stubby finger into his chest.
“Who made you the big shit, anyway?” he growled in a gravely voice. “I got as much say in when we go as you do. You’d still be lying on your cot with your thumbs stuck up your ass if it weren’t for me.” He jutted his chin forward and puffed out his barrel chest. “You didn’t have shit for plans before you met me. I’m the one who taught you everything you know about picking locks. Don’t forget it.”
Although they were alone, Delbert still glanced around to make sure no other inmates were nearby or listening. “The keys are made,” he said in a low voice. “You know where they’re hidden. Everything’s ready. I say we go tonight.”
“No,” Skin replied between clenched teeth. “We’ll go when I say we go. That’s the end of it.”
With his eyes popping open wide, Delbert’s lip curled into a snarl. “Who the hell are you to tell me that’s the end of it? We’re partners in this deal.”
“I don’t like you anymore,” Skin stated. “We’re no longer partners.”
Shrugging like he didn’t comprehend, Delbert said, “What the hell’s gotten into you? Of course we’re partners. I’m joining you and the brothers when we get outta here. I believe in the same shit you do. White supremacy and all that.”
“You’re not joining anything,” Skin said, emphasizing the word. “The Brotherhood doesn’t allow disgusting pigs into its ranks.”
Delbert’s mouth dropped open. “Disgusting?” He yanked the collar of Skin’s jumpsuit into his fist and ground out, “Who are you to call me disgusting? I don’t need you, you skinny white freak. I’ll take the keys and bust out on my own. How about that? And you’ll be stuck in this pen to rot like the stinking garbage that you are. That’ll teach you to cross me. You sonofabitch mutant.” His hand flew off of Skin’s collar, and he flipped him the bird.
With his blood raging and adrenaline pumping through his veins, Skin clutched Delbert around the neck with both hands. Before the man could fight back or utter a word, Skin crushed his windpipe and Delbert crumpled to the ground.
“That’ll teach you to cross me,” Skin said, hauling the body deeper into the shadows and then readjusting his jumpsuit. He nonchalantly stepped around the corner and looked both ways before returning to the yard. He was on the other side of the square, walking alone and deep in thought when a whistle blew, signaling that a guard had discovered the body of stupid, trusting Delbert.
****
While breakfast was winding down, T.J. amused the guests with corny jokes. Sandy showed the Tammen children a simple magic trick using napkins, and Dalton tried his best to act interested in whatever Susan was chatting with him about. Ella had excused herself earlier to do some work in her office. Conspicuously missing from the table was Cole.
Lindy nibbled at her sausage and eggs, wondering if he wasn’t here because he hadn’t wanted to face her this morning. That was a discouraging thought. After all, he’d been the one to stop them last night. What did he have to be ashamed of?
Maybe he’d slept in, she pondered, with hope rising in her bosom. Or it could be he was already down the hill working on the cabin. Since he didn’t live on the ranch and wasn’t an employe
e, he wasn’t required to take meals with the guests. But Lindy had still hoped to see him this morning, if for no other reason than to be uplifted by his pleasant smile.
Dalton’s baritone voice tugged her from her musings. “I’m going to be giving a demonstration on cowboy mounted shooting in a half hour,” he said, rising from the table and handing his empty plate to Luz. “Those who want to learn about the fastest growing equestrian sport in the nation, meet me at the outdoor arena.”
“What is cowboy mounted shooting?” Richard Caldwell asked, pulling out his wife’s chair.
“Basically, it’s a timed event where a cowboy or cowgirl shoots at balloons while riding his or her horse in a pattern. After I show you how it’s done, we’ll set up some stationary targets and y’all can do some shooting.”
From the animated and enthusiastic comments flying around the room, it sounded as if everyone would be headed to the arena, except Mrs. Tammen and the children.
“We’ll visit the donkeys,” she told the kids.
“I want to shoot guns,” her son whined.
“Kids can participate, too,” Dalton assured Mr. and Mrs. Tammen. “I’ve got cap pistols for them to use. You can stand next to them while they fire blanks at the balloons. They can wear helmets and goggles if you’d like. It’s very safe.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Tammen said, looking to her husband, who nodded his approval. “In that case, we’ll see you at the arena.”
“Sounds fun, doesn’t it, Hunter?” Philip Davis asked his son. It was obvious he was struggling to find common ground and bond with the boy.
In typical teenage fashion, Hunter shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.
Lindy wished she knew more about Hunter. He was unhappy, that much was apparent, and he seemed royally ticked that his father had dragged him here. But weren’t all teenagers morose and irritable? Still, it didn’t take an x-ray to see inside to the pain he carried. His melancholy attitude and the sad expression in his father’s eyes aroused Lindy’s compassion. Where was Philip’s wife, Hunter’s mother? Did her absence have anything to do with why they’d come to the ranch? Or why the two of them seemed so glum? Maybe she could get Hunter alone sometime and see if he’d open up.
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