“I think I’m figuring out that you turn to insanity when someone pisses you off.” Because he was only inches from her, she could see the smile playing on his water-beaded lips.
“Someone pissed me off? I’m not pissed off.”
That was now true. She’d narrowed her emotion options to hurt or captivation, and before she could either cry or plow her fingers through that chest hair again, she swept an arm back, cupped her palm, and swished a drenching tsunami of water into his face.
He choked and sputtered. “Why you little …”
She dove to the side when he surged forward, but she wasn’t quick enough. Like a lithe, handsome dolphin he twisted mid-jump and grabbed her around the waist. The next thing she knew he’d dragged her under water, released her so she could surface, then grabbed her again.
Her laughter broke clean and loud and genuine when he hefted her into his arms and bunched his muscles.
“Don’t you dare!”
“You are in no position to request anything.” He plopped a soggy kiss on her forehead, rose up, and tossed her as easily as he would have a beach ball.
She flew five feet, her stomach dropping like she’d crested a roller coaster hill, her laughter ringing until she plunged beneath the water yet again. Shooting up off the bottom, she dove at him. The hurt was gone, leaving only captivation. Her fingers dug into what little fleshiness she could find in his side, and he bellowed with laughter.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
He grasped her thigh and slid his hands over her knee, her calf, and her ankle until he caught her foot and gripped it viselike so he could wiggle his fingers against her arch. She thrashed and screeched, pummeling his chest in desperation to get free. Finally, she pried his right pinky off her foot and pulled on it just hard enough to make him let go. When she had her foot back, she launched her hand for his armpit.
Their combined laughter and their splashes from dogged parries and feints echoed through the dark, sweet air, louder than the chorus of frogs and cicadas. Backs of knees, armpits, bellies, feet, inner thighs—no body part was safe. At last, breathless and choking on laughter, Chase managed to imprison her with his arms, like a zip tie around her entire upper body.
“Little water moccasin, that’s what you are.” His voice came out a wheeze. “Quick and dangerous.”
His accent, seductive as Kentucky moonshine, rolled through her. Any desire to get free and retaliate drained away, leaving only hot, throbbing need in its place. She ached for him but shied away from yet another rejection. Then one of his hands loosened, and he slid it to her seat. With swift decisiveness, he pulled her to him. The water had rendered the thin cotton of his boxers all but nonexistent, and they hid nothing of the long, hard erection now pressing exactly where she wanted it.
“You were right,” he whispered. “I hate all that chivalry crap, too.”
His mouth came down like sealing wax on a royal decree, and he stamped his mark on her with his tongue and his teeth, nipping, sweeping, claiming her. He flicked the clasp and her bra hung free. He stripped off the lacy thing and tossed it carelessly toward the shore. Together, their mouths still mating in wonder, they pushed down each other’s underpants, and both pairs joined the shipwrecked bra.
He was beautiful and hard and slick, and Jill caressed his spine, the swell of his buttocks, and the curve of his seat where it met his thighs. She reached between them and grasped his length under the water, now warm as a hot tub from the heat they generated. He groaned in her ear, and liquid surged from within her until she was sure her every cell, inside and out, bathed in liquefied sensation.
With one effortless motion he lifted her, and the water floated her up until she could wrap her legs around his hips.
“Now I know you’re happy to see me,” she whispered.
“And I would prove it to you this second, but this time we do need something between us.”
He nuzzled her behind the ear and carried her from the lake. The hot summer air warmed her wet skin as he strode ten feet across the sand to his discarded jeans. At last she had to slide off, but his hard, proud body thrilled her, counteracting her heat with deep shivers of pleasure. Chase pulled a foil packet from his pocket. She furrowed her brows.
“But if you weren’t going to …”
“I’ve lectured a lot of know-it-all young men,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t expect them to do as I say if I didn’t follow the same rules.” For a moment his eyes lit mischievously, then he handed her the packet. “Want to handle this?”
The double entendre made her giggle. She grabbed the packet. “I admit I’ve never had the honor before,” she said. “But I’ll be darned if I’m waiting for you.”
She ripped open the foil and fumbled only a moment before she got it right and rolled the condom up his hard length.
“Perfect,” he growled, and she closed her eyes, laughter replaced by shivers.
He kicked his jeans and T-shirt around the ground to make a bed, and seconds later her back was nestled into his shirt. Chase entered her with a molten glide. A cry of pleasure escaped her, and she moved beneath him, closing her eyes as the chirp of crickets swelled into all-encompassing sound. His thrusts were slow and long. Colors curled behind her eyes, moisture shimmied between their bodies, Chase’s breath came hard and fast, and they rocked together until everything exploded, and her orgasm shattered around her. Mere seconds later Chase cried out, and they crashed in waves that had nothing to do with the lake.
She floated to Earth by following his tender kisses back from the clouds. His lips on her eyelids kept them closed, kept her drifting until, at last, she could once again hear the frogs and the breeze and the lapping of the water.
“You changed your mind,” she whispered.
“No.” His voice filled her ear—her soul. “You changed it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’VE DECIDED YOU want to take me into town.”
Chase looked up from the construction of his PB&J. “Holy goin’ to a funeral, Robert. Where’d you find those duds?”
Robert looked like a dapper earl. A brown tweed sports coat and a white dress shirt, graced with a blue and brown bowtie, were topped off with a neat brown fedora.
“Don’t get smart-mouthed. You could do with a few more than two pairs of dungarees.”
“Touché.” Chase looked down at himself. “Wait. Dungarees? What are ya, old?”
“Older than God’s mama, and that’s a fact. I have an appointment, and then mebbe you can show me that fancy-pants riding hall you been braggin’ about.”
Chase looked at his friend with sudden insight. “You want to see Rebecca’s first day back at riding lessons, you old softie.”
“I can drive myself if you’re going to insult me.”
“Hah! I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He folded his bread and bit off half the sandwich. He held out a piece of what remained to Angel.
They took Robert’s camel-colored Buick and let the dog hop in and drape her head joyfully out the window. Robert’s appointment turned out to be at a lawyer’s office. “He’s got some information on those eminent domain threats that damn fool Krieger is always throwing around,” he said.
Since Robert didn’t need help, Chase drove past Southwater thinking to surprise Jill. It had been a whole fifteen hours, after all, since … He let his memory send pleasant shivers through his body. It no longer frightened him to admit he loved her. Even so, nervousness gnawed at the edges of his pleasure. She didn’t love him. Not yet. She loved the hero who’d ridden into Kennison Falls on a motorcycle that wasn’t even his. She loved a façade and some false chivalry. Now he needed to change that. He owed her honesty after this weekend.
All he had going for him was a plan—and some fragile faith.
The plan was the easy part—dinner after Jamie’s lesson on Friday. The reservations were made, an explanation running in a practice loop in his brain. He wanted to tell her now—yesterday would have been better
; and he’d tried to start. But her spare moments here and there this crazy week didn’t give them enough time. He couldn’t drop a bomb on her before a lesson, or in front of the people always surrounding her. She needed time to hear everything and question him, too.
Or run.
The faith that she wouldn’t was harder to come by. He trusted that she loved him, but he wasn’t above falling back on the angels Poppa always touted. Prayers had worked months ago on Gypsy’s foal. Maybe he’d latch on to the tail of a miracle himself.
The Creature wasn’t in the Southwater Clinic parking lot. Mildly disappointed, Chase made his way to the Loon Feather, where he and Robert planned to meet.
“How ’bout a treat?” he asked when he and Angel arrived at the café.
She slurped a kiss against his ear and he promised to return quickly.
Cotton and Lester greeted him as usual.
“Welcome, come in.” Chase stopped for the required lesson.
“Wekkome … in. Wekkome … in,” Cotton chirped in reply.
“Looks like you have the touch.”
Chase started at the voice and spun to see Gray Covey’s poster-famous smile.
“Hey, good morning.” Chase extended his hand. “I think more likely she’s simply got it.”
“You heading in or out?”
“I’m after one of Karla Baxter’s cinnamon rolls, if there are any left.”
Karla, the local high school music teacher, only worked summers at the Loon and only offered her coveted, gooey rolls when she worked.
“My wife has my son, Dawson, out parallel parking since he’s taking his driver’s test tomorrow. I am not his instructor of choice. Abby definitely has the touch there.”
Chase nodded. “No figuring the power of women.”
“Spoken like another who knows.”
“Knows but doesn’t understand.”
“Amen, brother.”
They ordered their rolls to go and Gray accompanied Chase back outdoors. They let a wiggling Angel out of the car and stretched their legs out on the Loon’s new lawn.
“Wouldn’t be Jill Carpenter you’re waiting for?” Camaraderie shone in Gray’s eyes. “Not to pry. Kim takes lessons from Jill and we’ve heard, that’s all. She’s great. Kim loves her.”
Chase tore off a piece of roll and set it in front of the dog. “Jill’s terrific,” he admitted. “Wish it were her, but I’m waiting for Robert McCormick.”
“I heard you were staying out with him. I’ve never met him, but I think he’s either very brave or very foolhardy standing up to Connery.”
“Robert? He’s a good man. Smart. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I hope he holds out. He may be our only chance.”
Chase debated telling Gray about Krieger’s double set of numbers, but he was still trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t dare spread rumors until he was sure.
“I heard a new song on the radio the other day,” he ventured instead and then felt a little silly. Did you talk to Gray Covey about his music when he was, what, off duty?
“Yeah?” Gray seemed mildly surprised. “It’s a little different. Dawson arranged it. Said I needed to modernize myself.”
“Impressive. So, he can work with you, just not drive with you.”
“You think girls are hard to understand. Try a teenager. I love the kid, both our kids, and this crazy little town to death. But some days like this, I sure don’t recognize my life.”
“Are you kidding? I came to get away from the big city. Nothing else. Now look at me.”
“You met a girl.”
“Before I’d reached Main Street.”
“Sorry, buddy.” Gray shook his head in mock sympathy. “All I can say is, things have a way of working out. Abby wanted nothing to do with my life, believe me. She’s a strong, quiet country girl and I’m a … well, God knows what I am, but it isn’t quiet. Unless I’m here. This place has a way of taking care of a person. It gets to you pretty quickly.”
Chase glanced up and down the street. In the few weeks he’d been here more buildings had been restored, businesses were opening back up. The next project he was slated to start with Connery was a new library. And he felt as if he’d always been invested.
“It does,” he agreed. “The question is being the smart choice for the girl. I’m no saint—which is pretty much what she deserves.”
“Man, you are speaking to the king of being wrong for the girl. Fortunately, those soft feminine hearts are far bigger than make sense to us. Give your girl a chance—she has a capacity for love and forgiveness you won’t believe.”
They fell silent. Angel scooted herself between them and nudged Gray on the cheek. Then she licked three times beneath his ear—her way of showing approval. And begging.
“She’s getting very spoiled, sorry,” Chase said. “C’mon, girl. You’ve had treats.”
Gray slipped her a piece of his roll before she obeyed. “Nothing more fun than spoiling a girl.” He winked.
ROBERT CLIMBED OUT of the passenger seat and stared around Bridge Creek farm’s neat yard like a man seeing heaven. The main barn stood open and beside it the old arena bustled with riders. Beyond the barn, the peak of the new arena shone against a bright blue July sky.
“Did you ever ride?” Chase asked, as they headed across the yard.
“My pa had a skinny old saddlebred mare he bought off someone who was shipping her to the kill. I was maybe fourteen. Took her to a couple of county fair shows. After she died when I was twenty or so, there were no more useless riding horses taking up space at our farm.”
The light of good memories in his eyes belied the gruff dismissal in his voice. As they neared the open door to the new arena, David met them. “Please, come in,” he said proudly, ushering them to the tier of four bleachers along one full wall. Opposite the seating, full-wall mirrors reflected the rich, oak-finished interior.
“Damn fancy job,” Robert whispered to Chase.
A thrill stabbed Chase low in his belly when Jill floated by, her legs long against Dragon’s sides, her hands delicate on the reins, her hips rocking in sync to the horse beneath her.
He couldn’t stop the continuing memories of her meshed just as perfectly with him last night. It made her riding sensual and personal and riveting.
“She’s a pretty rider,” Robert said.
“She’s a true horse whisperer, on and off the horse,” David agreed.
“She can teach others how to do it, too,” Robert mused. “Is she really going to the Olympics? She don’t say much about it.”
“She certainly has the ability, but the reality of how much time it takes is hitting home. I never had the drive, to Da’s disappointment. I think Jill is making up for me a little—never seen my father this invested in a rider.”
Lead formed in Chase’s gut at the assessment. How could he stand in the way of a dream like this? He wanted to think Jill had looked this happy after their lovemaking, but maybe that was wishful thinking.
Where did he belong?
“I know you’ve had the Barnes sisters out at your place.” David turned to Robert. “It’s marvelous you’re helping them. And, may I add, that you’re helping the whole town.”
“Bull wash. What I do is pure selfishness.”
“That could well be. But people are behind you.”
Robert harrumphed again. “The most important thing right now is that the little girls get to ride, and Jill gets to teach. Only time Jill’s any purtier than she is here is when she’s trying to knock some sense into those two kids.”
The words nearly knocked Chase off his seat. Jill did look this happy, this gorgeous, when she was working with the girls. Even when she was furious with Becky, her passion was stunning.
“Hi Chase! Hi Mr. McCormick!”
“Jamie!” Chase heralded the girl’s arrival. “We were talking about you and your sister.”
Behind her chair, Michael Barnes smiled self-consciously. “Jamie said th
is is where Jill told them to come today. We in the right place?”
“You are, indeed.” David rose. “Mr. Barnes, nice to see you again. Feel free to have a seat—Jamie, you can put your chair wherever you like.”
“Want to sit on up on the bleachers?” Michael asked his daughter.
She nodded, set the brake on the wheelchair, and reached for her father’s neck. He lifted her easily, carried her to a spot beside Chase, and she used her arms to balance on the bench.
“Never seen you without the rod attached to your behind,” Chase said. “Looks good.”
“Wait until Friday!”
“Honey, I think we’re as excited as you are,” he promised. “Where’s Becky?”
“Getting Roy ready. She wanted to do it alone.”
That was unusual. “Wow. Good for her.”
He studied Jamie. Something besides her lack of chair was different, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.
Fifteen minutes later, Jill finished. She rode to the short wall in front of the bleachers and swung off Dragon’s saddle. “Goodness. A cheering section? Robert, is that really you? Is somebody getting married?”
“You think you’re funny, too, don’t you, girlie?”
“I am funny.”
Her eyes settled on Chase, and her hot gaze shot through him like a lance of fire.
“You almost ready for Friday?” she asked Jamie.
“I’m all ready.”
“I am, too. What about Becky? Think she’s ready to jump today?”
“I know she is.”
That was it—the difference in Jamie. Somehow, in the course of three days, she’d lost all caustic animosity for her sister. He really needed to savor this day—it was almost too good to be true.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A FLAWLESS, AZURE sky greeted Jill Friday morning. Jamie’s lesson later that afternoon would be a raw experiment at best, but Jill couldn’t remember her life feeling so picture-perfect.
Rescued by a Stranger Page 26
