Kiss and Tell

by Cherry Adair

  Pine trees streaked with sunlight, grasses, a jacket tossed over a protruding branch on the downed tree across the clearing, a fawn-colored Great Dane…

  Duchess wagged her tail and gave him a doggy grin.

  Jake's heart gave an unexpected lurch.

  The dog had been hiding her.

  The slender blonde in a filmy pale green dress sat in the middle of the log, thirty feet from their almost completed cabin. Fair hair, all the colors of the sun and fingered by the summer breeze, danced in joyous spiral curls around her face and hunched shoulders. Her lips moved silently as she concentrated on something in her lap.

  The second she heard his footfalls on the soft earth, Marnie's head shot up and a soul-warming smile blossomed on her lips, filling Jake to the brim with joy.

  The word love didn't even begin to cover what he felt for this woman. Being loved by Marnie made him feel like a parched sponge soaking in liquid sunlight. Her love lit up even the darkest corners of his soul.

  "What are you doing here?" he demanded, unable to control his smile as he took her hand to help her to her feet.

  "I was lonely for my husband."

  "You were supposed to stay in Gray Feather with your dad until tomorrow, when I was coming to get you. I don't like you wandering around up here alone right now. What if you fell, or—"

  Marnie wrapped an arm about his waist and grinned up at him, blue eyes sparkling and unrepentant. "Pooh. That little stroll was nothing. I've run up and down this mountain with bad guys shooting at me in snow, sleet, and pouring rain. With all you tough guys up here, I'm as safe as could be. Besides"—she plucked a leaf off his T-shirt and twirled it under his nose—"I couldn't stand waiting till then to see what you've done. I sneaked out while Dad was taking a nap. For once I eluded his eagle eye."

  "No, you didn't," Jake said laconically, waving to his father-in-law, who was trudging up the hill looking disgruntled.

  Geoffrey Wright waved back, shot his son-in-law a sympathetic glance, and didn't pause until he disappeared inside the cabin.

  "Can I have a tour now?" Marnie demanded.

  Jake wrapped an arm about her waist, resting his hand gently on her very large belly. "It's hardly the romantic weekend I'd anticipated," he said dryly as the saw started up again and someone shouted for more nails. "I wanted to wait until it was just the two and a half of us."

  She smiled. "One and a half of us don't mind company. We can always go home for quiet." She cast an appreciative gaze over the cabin. "It looks fabulous, Jake. Really terrific. And so big."

  Arms about each other, they strolled up the slight incline to the front door.

  "You didn't mention you'd been able to salvage any of the old cabin."

  "I wasn't able to." Jake followed her gaze to the darker, weathered timbers comprising the front wall. "I used as much lumber as I could from your grandmother's cottage. Eventually the weathered timbers will blend with the new—Are you crying?"

  Eyes bright with tears, Marnie turned to slide her arms around his neck, their baby nestled between them. "Oh, Jake. That is the sweetest, most dear thing. She'll always be in my heart, but I love knowing that part of her cottage will shelter us, too. Thank you, my love."

  "My pleasure," he said gruffly against her hair. "Want to go inside?"

  "In a minute." She rested her head against his chest with a sigh of contentment. "Just hold us like this a bit longer."

  "My pleasure." Jake rested a possessive hand on her rounded tummy. "What were you saying to our daughter while you were sitting over there?"

  Covering his stroking hand with hers, Marnie looked up at him with all her love in her eyes. "I was telling our future spy king of the universe what a lucky little boy he is to have such a wonderful daddy."

  A son or daughter. Another Marnie miracle. Their lives were filled with them.

  She'd given him her family, her trust, her absolute, unadulterated love.

  She'd given him his heart.

  Read on for a sneak peek at the next

  thrilling and sexy contemporary romance

  by Cherry Adair

  Coming soon from Ivy Books

  The noise and the yeasty smell of beer hit her the moment Taylor Kincaid opened the heavy front door of the Neon Armadillo and stepped into the blessed coolness of the air-conditioned interior. She paused a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimness; then, waving at a few people she recognized, she crossed the postage stamp-sized dance floor to the long oak bar on the other side of the room.

  "Busman's holiday?" Taylor smiled as she rounded the counter to toss her purse on a shelf behind the bar. Annie Macmillan was the Armadillo's other part-time waitress, but tonight she sat at the customer side of the bar, sipping a beer and watching the cowboys behind her in the mirror.

  Cute with her slightly crooked eyeteeth and blond gamin haircut, Annie was five months pregnant. And everyone, Taylor included, tried to take care of her, much to Annie's annoyance. She probably shouldn't be drinking, but Taylor kept quiet. Their friendship was still too tentative to make waves.

  Annie grinned back. "Checking out the scenery. If that Ray didn't have his eye on you, I'd take him for a whirl myself."

  "Have at it. I'm not in the market." Taylor told her absently. "Hi, Charlie," she called to the owner playing liar's dice with an old crony at the other end of the counter. Charlie Mayher waved without looking up. Annie and Taylor shared a grin.

  Charlie was the proverbial grouch with a heart of gold. Taylor got out a fresh bag of peanuts in their shells and started to refill the small wooden bowls scattered about the bar.

  "You really dig working here, don't you?" Annie leaned her elbows on the oak counter and scrutinized her friend.

  "Yeah, I do." Taylor loved the noise, the smells, and the camaraderie of the patrons. She loved everything about Matterhorn. She loved her new job, her new friends, and her sweet little house.

  Life was abso-damn-lutely perfect.

  "Heyya, sweetpea. How're my gals doin'?" Ruby Gardner slid a tray of empties onto the counter, then snatched a pack of unfiltered cigarettes out of the ashtray and lit up.

  Taylor gave her a pointed look, and Ruby moved the ashtray slightly to the left so the smoke didn't blow in Annie's face. Not that the smoke seemed to bother Annie. The bar was always full of cigarette smoke.

  Taylor tapped her foot in time with "I feel Lucky" playing on the jukebox. "I'm good." She smiled as she took the tray to dispose of the empty bottles and glasses behind the bar.

  "Thanks," Ruby blew out a plume of gray smoke. She was the first person Taylor had met in Matterhorn. One couldn't get any more real than Ruby. She was quite a character, with a contagious zest for life that was delightful to be around, and a heart as big as Texas.

  The first thing she'd asked Taylor was where she was staying, and she'd offered her own spare room. She'd done the same with unmarried and "all-on-her-lonesome" Annie. Taylor had her own house. Annie had opted for moving into the motor court motel south of town. Taylor'd thought Ruby must be lonely in her little blue house on the edge of town.

  The jukebox conked out, and the click of pool balls, the low hum of voices, and the clink of glasses took its place. A ball game on the TV at the far end of the bar added more noise. A typical Monday night at the Neon Armadillo. Two guys played pool in back, a dozen or so people sat at the small wooden tables scattered about, and a few more were seated at the bar.

  "You weren't kidding. It is quiet tonight."

  "I told—Yo! Ray!" Ruby raised her voice at the cowboy kicking the temperamental jukebox. "That thing ain't gonna work until it's good and ready, so go sit down and drink your beer and stop kickin' the furniture!" She turned back to Taylor without missing a beat.

  "Like I said on the phone this afternoon, sugah, you didn't need to come in. I told Missy Momma here the same thing. But she's busy lookin' for a daddy for junior."

  Annie shifted slightly away from Ruby's tummy-patting hand and pulled a face. "Not."
r />   She'd told Taylor all she wanted was companionship, not a relationship. She had enough problems already. She hadn't been much more forthcoming than that. And Taylor, who'd never had a real friend in her life, wasn't sure what was acceptable to ask.

  "Pour me a Coke while you're back there, will ya, sug?" Ruby perched a jean-clad hip on a barstool and took another drag before pinching a piece of tobacco off her tongue with two nicotine-stained fingers.

  Taylor drew two sodas, motioned to Annie's glass, and slid one of the glasses to Ruby when Annie indicated she was good.

  On the shady side of forty, beanpole skinny, chainsmoking Ruby had her own sense of style. Tonight an enormous flame-colored hibiscus stuck at a jaunty angle into the crinkly mass of her improbably orange hair. Like Taylor, she wore a red T-shirt and jeans, but she'd added a dozen chunky bead necklaces to her ensemble, and her CFM heels were high enough to cause a nosebleed.

  Half a dozen charm bracelets tinkled as Ruby took another drag of her cigarette and squinted her kohl-lined blue eyes at Taylor through the smoke. "Monday nights is always quiet. 'Specially when it's this dad-blasted hot. Everyone's home in their underoos catching a cold breeze off the AC."

  She wiggled pencil-thin red eyebrows and shot Taylor a wicked look. "Except for Ray and his buddies over there giving you the eye. That boy sure has a mighty big crush on you, sweetcheeks."

  Taylor gave a noncommittal shrug. She'd been considering Ray Adler as candidate for number one on her list. But so far something had held her back. And it wasn't fair to hold him off while she thought about it, not if Annie was interested.

  Ruby gave her a sympathetic look. "Got lonesome out at your granny's place, did you, sugah?"

  "I like working." Taylor inhaled a deep breath of smoky, beer-scented air. "Even if I just sit here all night watching everyone… I don't expect Charlie to pay me for sitting around," she added quickly.

  Ruby chucked her under the chin. "Charlie'd pay ya for just sittin' any day of the week, sug. Fellas come from miles around to see that pretty face of yours." She rounded the end of the bar. "Yours, and our Annie, here. Besides, look at the old coot sittin' over there yakkin' away while we get our own orders." She held a glass under the spigot and drew a draft, grumbling under her breath about doing the bartender's job.

  Taylor chuckled. "It's obvious who runs the Neon Armadillo, and it isn't Charlie."

  "Yeah, well his name's the one on the deed." Ruby wiped her hands. "And don't change the subject. We were talkin' about you. Did you find any more pictures of your daddy and your granny?"

  "I'm not sure. I've found a bunch more old photographs, but it's hard to tell. There are about a zillion boxes to go through, and I've barely started. Is it okay to bring another pile for you to identify when I come in on Wednesday?"

  "Oh, honey, of course. I told ya. It's kinda fun to go through some of those and remember the old days."

  "Old days? You're not old, Ruby."

  "True. I'm feelin' younger every day havin' you two as my gal pals, sweetcheeks. And talkin' about you—"

  "They're playing our song." Ray stood beside Annie, his eyes on Taylor. His shirt needed ironing, and his hair was a bit too long for her taste. But he had an engaging smile, twin dimples, and an easy charm she really liked.

  He held out his hand, his blue eyes twinkling. "Care to take a twirl with me, honey?"

  "No thanks, Ray." Taylor smiled. "I just got here."

  A beat later Annie slid off her stool and took his hand. She didn't look five months pregnant in her pretty pink top and jeans. She looked fresh and young, and very eager, as she batted her eyelashes and clung to Ray's arm. "You lucky devil you, I just happen to be free."

  Ray laughed and wrapped an arm about her slender shoulders to lead her to the small clearing made for dancing.

  "As sweet as that gal is, she's gonna steal that boy away if you don't tell him yes for a change," Ruby told her, watching the couple rub together slowly on the dance floor.

  "It's okay; Annie's welcome to him."

  Ruby searched her face. "Yeah, you're probably right. You're too classy for a cowboy, sug. Set your sights high."

  "Oh, no. That's not what I meant at all—"

  One of the guys shooting pool yelled for a beer. Ruby shouted back, "Hold your horses, cowboy, I'm comin'!" With slow deliberation, she filled three more glasses and loaded her tray; then, with a wink, she teetered off on her high heels.

  Smiling, Taylor closed her eyes for a second, and sent up a little thank-you prayer for her terrific new life and caring friends.

  "Life is good," she whispered to herself, feeling invincible and ridiculously happy.

  A shot of hot, creosote-scented, night air swirled through the bar as the front door opened. Still grinning, Taylor glanced up, mildly curious.

  A broad-shouldered man, backlit by the streetlight, stepped inside, then let the door swing closed behind him.

  The hair on the back of her neck lifted as a sudden awareness of impending danger washed over her. Her smile dissolved.

  "Oh, shit, shit. Shit!"

  He wore jeans and a black T-shirt; his dark hair was scraped back ruthlessly from his face and tied at the nape of his neck. Something about the guy screamed trouble with a capital T. Although Taylor didn't know him, she knew the type only too well. Cocky, used to getting his own way, and arrogant as hell. Six-foot-plus of attitude. The kind of guy she'd scraped off her shoes when she'd left L. A.

  She couldn't figure out why, when he was dressed pretty much the same as every other man in the room, she knew he was different. Dangerous. A disaster waiting to happen. And there wasn't a doubt in Taylor's mind that this guy was here for her.

  Yet how? Why? She'd covered her tracks well. No one had followed her. She'd made damn sure of that. She'd paid cash for everything. Taken a circuitous route. She'd worn colored contacts the moment she'd left L.A. She'd whacked off her hair. She wore no makeup. No, he wasn't here for her. It was just paranoia rearing its ugly head.

  If the folks of Matterhorn hadn't recognized her in broad daylight, there was no way this stranger could identify her in a dimly lit barroom.

  Taylor took a deep, calming breath and tried to place him. He didn't look like a reporter, or a private eye. She wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on a napkin, then drummed a tattoo with her finger on the edge of the bar, and waited. Eventually he'd spot her. She wasn't going to hide, but she didn't plan on going up to introduce herself either.

  The Red Dog Beer sign flickered over his head, casting a menacing glitter in the predatory shift of his gaze as he probed the shadows. His features were too rawly masculine to be particularly good-looking—his face too austere, his taut jaw too stubborn and unyielding.

  Black brows winged over dark, hooded eyes as he scanned the room. He was as focused as a laser, oblivious to the noise and low, dense cloud of cigarette smoke suspended in the slow-moving air. Thank God the bar wasn't full—still, people stared openly, wondering who he was and what he was doing here. Just the sight of him twisted Taylor's stomach in a knot.

  She felt the exact moment he spotted her. Like a guidance missile his gaze suddenly locked with hers. Recognition gleamed. A heartbeat later, he was in motion.

  Damn!

  Wishing him to Hades, she reminded herself that no matter who, or what, he was, he couldn't force her to do anything. As long as she figured out how to hustle him away from here before he spilled the beans, everything would be fine. For some reason that thought didn't calm the butterflies swooping around in her stomach.

  Six-feet-plus of potent, virile, dangerous male strode toward her with purpose. A broad smile enhanced the glint in his eyes. She took an involuntary step back, and covered her throat with her hand. God—she'd seen feral smiles like his on Predator's Week on the Nature Channel.

  "Darling!"

  Darling?

  Now that he was closer he looked vaguely familiar. But not "darling" familiar. She took a step back. Her retreat didn't bother him a
bit. Before she could react, he came toe to toe, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her flush against him, and tilted her chin up with his free hand.

  Shocked at the electrical jolt as he pressed her to the hard length of his body, Taylor nearly came out of her red, fake-skin boots. "W—"

  The arm about her waist tightened as his mouth came down on hers, effectively shutting her up.

  Stunned, she stood stock-still, arms at her sides, breath nonexistent as the stranger proceeded to kiss her like there was no tomorrow. He kissed her with the familiarity of a long-time lover. He kissed her as if she were his water in the desert. He kissed her as if he had the right to lave her mouth with the wet heat of his tongue and to draw her body so close to his that they cast one shadow.

  Stunned by the sudden rush of raw desire surging through her like a Texas tornado, Taylor went deaf and blind. Impressions came at her with lightning speed. The smooth glide of his tongue against hers, the compelling smell of his skin, the heat and hardness of his large body crowding hers. Her blood thrummed through her veins with a fast, almost violent beat as his hand skimmed her back, down to her bottom, and pulled her hard against him.

  Catcalls and whistles eventually pierced the veil of insanity shrouding her brain. Taylor tore her lips from under his and swiped the back of her hand across her hot, puffy mouth. Boggled by the actions of a complete stranger, she looked up.

  And met the gaze of a feral panther, one paw on the heart of his prey, partially retracted claws ready to sink through her tender flesh.

  God. I'm being fanciful. He's just a man. But a chill coursed through her overheated body, and the faint tang of his spicy after-shave made her light-headed. Disoriented, she looked from his eyes to his mouth…

  A chair leg scraped. Voices intruded. Suddenly aware that every eye in the place was fixed on them, Taylor managed to get her arms between them to push at his chest with her elbows.

  "Are you nuts?" she hissed. "Let me go!"

  "Ah, darling, can you forgive me?" The words came from behind clenched teeth. A thread of menace wove through his smooth baritone like a dark underground river. He didn't release her. Instead, he gave her a meaningful look, his arms like iron bands around her.