Jesse

by Cindy Stark

  “Maybe one of these days you’ll learn to listen to me as I am an expert in ice cream.” She widened her eyes into innocent ovals that didn’t fool him one bit.

  He chuckled. “Dinner was delicious, as usual.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  Her blush encouraged him. “But I missed you.”

  Her eyes grew wary as she studied him.

  The strings around his heart wove into deeper tangles, and he tried again. “I deserved to eat alone, but I want you to know I missed you.”

  She drew her eyebrows together in a sad expression. “I wasn’t trying to punish you. I just needed some quiet time.”

  No, she wouldn’t be the type to withhold her company as a punishment, but he had missed what they shared now, the laughter, the camaraderie. “I understand.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks in his muscles.

  “Shoulders bothering you?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’ll be all right.”

  “I could help.” She stood and set her half-eaten bowl of ice cream on the small table next to him. “I have amazing elbows.”

  He laughed. “Amazing elbows? Is that a thing?”

  “Oh, it’s a thing.”

  His body tightened in anticipation when she moved behind him, between the chair and curtains covering the window. The essence of her was so sweet, so tender, and it reached straight into his soul.

  His swallow lodged in his throat as she dragged her fingers across his shoulders to his neck and back again, stopping to push here and there as though searching for rogue muscles.

  “You’re really tense.”

  “Yeah.” Her words tickled his senses, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. They flew open again when her sharp elbow buried deep into a pit of tightly-bunched muscles. He gasped in surprise. “Son of a…”

  “Told you so.” She worked in a rotating motion that hurt as it soothed, and then she pressed down hard again and held.

  He gritted his teeth and pretended this little spit of a woman couldn’t cause him enough pain to bring him to his knees. Then she released him, and he could breathe again. He rolled his head to test her work and was shocked that the pain had subsided considerably. “Wow. That’s amazing. Could you do that every night?”

  She reclaimed her ice cream and resumed her spot on the bed. “Masseuse duties are only available with a pay raise.”

  A laugh burst from his lips. “Oh, I see how it is. Tempt me with something irresistible before asking for more.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in curiosity, and he recognized the unintended double entendre.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’m negotiating the price on cattle I’ll be selling at the end of October. If I get what I’m asking, I’ll be able to pay off hay for the winter, and after that, I’ll split the extra earnings with you, seventy-thirty.”

  “I’d get thirty percent of what’s left over?” Her smile brightened enough that he was tempted to give her all of it.

  “Might only be ten bucks.” He had some serious bills to pay.

  She shrugged, still happy. “Doesn’t matter. It will be mine.”

  That something so small could make her happy was endearing. With his ex, she’d always complained about not having enough…of everything. He should have recognized from the get-go that she wasn’t suited for this lifestyle. God knew it could be a rough way of life, and not the glamourous life Hollywood made it out to be.

  A question hovered on his tongue. He wanted to know her better, but he didn’t want to pry. But, they were friends, right? And she knew that he knew of her previous situation. “I get the impression your husband was pretty controlling.”

  She gave a soft snort. “That’s an understatement.” Pain laced her words and filled him with anger toward the bastard who’d hurt her.

  “If you ever need to talk about it…”

  She nodded her understanding then turned her gaze to her ice cream instead of him.

  Dammit. Things were going great between them, and then he’d gone and made things awkward. Again. When the hell would he learn? Did he subconsciously have his finger on the self-destruct button ready to push whenever a decent woman was around?

  Shit. Probably.

  He stood. “I should say goodnight. Thanks again for dinner.”

  She stood as well and set her bowl on the table. She followed him to the bedroom door as though she was seeing a guest out of her house.

  He paused and turned in the doorway. Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes and caught him off-guard.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she said.

  Where the hell had that come from? “It’s not much. I think you’ve done much more for me.”

  She bit her bottom lip and then launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her head against his chest. He didn’t hesitate to accept her hug and pull her tight against him with his free hand.

  He closed his eyes as the sweet scent of her shampoo teased him, and without thinking, he lowered his lips to her hair. She was all sweetness and love, and the feel of her against him set him on fire. He should let go, but he couldn’t.

  They stood that way for a solid minute, both clinging to something they’d missed in their lives.

  “I should let you go,” he finally whispered, his lips grazing her soft hair. “But I don’t want to.”

  She pulled back, her gaze boring deep into his. “Me, either.” The center of her irises reminded him of the beautiful auburn color on some of his cattle. He was certain he’d never seen a more engaging color.

  He dropped his gaze to her lips, soft, pink, and slightly parted. The urge to taste her was powerfully strong. Though he tried, damned hard, too, he found he couldn’t resist. He caught her swift intake of air just before their lips touched.

  Potent hunger clouded his rationality as the sweetness of her kiss dominated his world. If she’d tensed or attempted to push him away, he would have stopped, but he didn’t. Couldn’t.

  She tasted of ice cream and everything he wanted in the world and…fuck. He lifted his head, caught the heat of desire burning in her gaze, and nearly lost control. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She lifted two fingers to her lips and traced where his mouth had just been. He could tell she’d wanted it, too, but it was too soon for her to be thinking about anything like this, and the last thing he needed was to get involved with another woman, especially a married woman, with a husband who’d likely kill her as keep her.

  Her lack of a verbal response left him scrambling for something to save the situation. “Thank you for the hug. I needed it. And the kiss was…well, incredible.” He ought to shut his trap before he dug the hole deeper.

  She removed the fingers from her lips and placed her hand on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Jesse Brogan.” She nodded as though reassuring them both that he was. “Goodnight.”

  He nodded, happy that everything seemed to be okay. “Goodnight, Scarlett. Sleep well.” He closed the door behind him.

  Once in the privacy of his own room, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw and then down his throat. He had no idea what the hell had just happened…but he knew he liked it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scarlett’s alarm blared into the early morning hours, and she awoke with a start, same as she did every day. She slept far too soundly for her own comfort, but she couldn’t help it. The Wyoming air agreed with her.

  She crawled out of bed and stumbled toward the door to start coffee first in case Jesse came in from the barn before she dressed and had breakfast ready. Really though, he needed to invest in a coffee pot with a timer she could set the night before.

  When she stepped into the hall, she stopped short, still half asleep. Something was off.

  It was darker than normal, and rain pounded loudly on the roof. She glanced toward the downstairs and realized the house was too dark. Jesse usually left the lights in the kitchen on for her.

 
; The hairs on her arms stiffened in warning, and she hovered near the top of the staircase unsure what to do.

  She stood for several long minutes listening. For what, she didn’t know. Anything that might alert her that everything wasn’t okay.

  A loud snore came from behind her, and she startled, emitting a small gasp in response as she whirled around. Jesse’s bedroom door stood open as usual. But normally, by the time she got up, he was already out of the house. Another snore rumbled from his room, and she frowned.

  He never slept in. Ever.

  She crept closer to his bedroom, peeked in, and saw him lying with a blanket covering the bottom half of his torso while his chest remained bare. He had one arm resting on the pillow above his head, the other on his chest, moving up and down as he breathed.

  She battled with her conscience over whether she should wake him. He’d obviously missed his alarm or slept through it. Which meant he probably needed the sleep. She hoped he wasn’t sick.

  But if she knew him, and she was learning more each day, she knew he’d be angry with himself for sleeping when he should have been working. In her opinion, the man worked too hard, but she also knew what was at stake and admired his drive to succeed despite the odds.

  Her feet made no sound as she crossed the tan carpet. She reached out a hand to tap his shoulder and then paused, drawing it back to her chest. This was an opportunity she may never get again. For just a small moment, she wanted to indulge in a glimpse of the man unguarded.

  Compared to Hank, Jesse was a work of art. She’d never been with another man, so couldn’t compare him beyond that.

  Jesse’s hardened, well-defined biceps and chest didn’t surprise her. He was a man who’d worked to hone his body into a machine. Even asleep, the energy pouring off him was good and kind, virile and strong. So different than Hank.

  She ached to touch him, to know the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, to test the difference between his work-roughened hands and the smooth skin of his torso.

  She shifted her gaze to his face and found he’d opened his eyes. Her heart dropped to the floor as her mind scrambled for words. “Sorry. I…you weren’t up, and I was worried. I thought you’d want me to wake you.”

  “It’s okay.” His voice was groggy, his expression not fully alert. He held out a hand to her.

  She hesitated, uncertain of his intentions, but she didn’t feel she could refuse since she’d entered his sanctuary uninvited. She took it, experienced first-hand what it was like to have his calloused thumb running along the back of hers and the innumerable shivers he caused.

  “What time is it?” he asked, still not releasing her hand.

  Her alarm had gone off at six, so… “Just after six, maybe six-ten.” She hadn’t stared at him that long.

  He groaned and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t you need to get up for work?” Unable to bear the heated sensations he caused, she tugged her hand from his.

  “Have you looked outside?” he mumbled.

  Her gaze flashed to the window and the soggy countryside beyond. “It’s raining.”

  “Has been all night.” He cleared his throat and fully opened his eyes. At once, his gaze was locked on her, traveling the length of her, setting every inch on fire. “No point in going out today. Ground will be a soggy mess, and trying to move cattle when they want to shelter from the rain will be like trying to drive with four flat tires.”

  “Oh.” She took a step backward. “I’m sorry I woke you then. I’m sure you need the rest.”

  He grinned. “Got an extra hour. That’s saying something these days.”

  She felt trapped in the lion’s den and unsure how to remove herself without drawing more attention. Or at least without a ton of awkwardness. “Do you want to sleep some more, or should I start breakfast?”

  He sat up, and she averted her gaze, afraid to find out if he slept naked. “Breakfast and some of your amazing coffee.”

  Unable to help herself, she flicked a glance his way, caught sight of gray briefs, and nodded. “I’m on it.” With that, she hurried out the door, the allure of desire chasing her as she went.

  She’d hoped he’d shower before coming downstairs, giving her time to change out of her pajamas. But she’d barely started coffee before he joined her. He’d donned gray flannel pants and a tight t-shirt that showed off the incredible muscles she’d witnessed earlier in the flesh, but it was his mussed hair and relaxed stance that endeared him to her the most.

  “You need to take more days off. It’s good for you.”

  He snorted, and they both knew that wasn’t a reality for him right now. “Whatcha makin’?” He entered her cooking space, making her nervous.

  She wanted to send him back to the kitchen table to wait for food, but, really, this was his house. He could go where he wanted. “I haven’t decided yet. What sounds good?”

  “Omelets.” He smiled. “With everything. Hash browns and…” He paused and stared at her for a long moment, long enough to heat her cheeks.

  Flustered, she turned and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. “When you figure out what else, let me know.” She tried to breathe. Neither of them had mentioned the kiss again, but it still weighed heavily on her mind. She recognized they were both lonely people living in a house alone. And they both needed a friend. And neither of them meant anything serious by the kiss. And she should just forget it.

  But moments like this, when he looked at her a certain way, all she could do was wish she could lose herself in his arms, in his kiss once again.

  Yes, she knew it was wrong to want it. Didn’t matter. The heart wants what it wants.

  He never did answer, so she busied herself chopping vegetables and finally asked him to grate cheese to keep him from constantly watching her. He cracked eggs, and she poured in cream while he whisked. He dumped the egg mixture into the pan and added green peppers, onions and mushrooms, while she cooked hash browns.

  “Nothing like the smell of breakfast to make a man hungry,” he said.

  She flicked a sideways glance at him, unsure of his intent. He kept his gaze innocent.

  When they finally sat down to eat, being near him for so long had set a million butterflies free inside her, and she found it hard to locate her appetite. At least the one for food.

  He gestured toward her with his fork. “The bruises on your face are completely gone.”

  She touched her fingers to her left cheekbone where the black and purple marks had been the most prominent. “Yes.” The ones on her heart were a little more stubborn, but definitely better. She grabbed her coffee cup and lifted it to her lips.

  When he was silent for several moments, she looked his way again. He watched her with an intensity that set her on edge. None of their meals had been this awkward, so why now?

  “Your eyes are really beautiful.”

  “What?” She’d heard him, but that was the only word that came out in response.

  “Your eyes. The auburn flecks nestled in the dark brown. Beautiful.”

  She forced a swallow. “Thank you.”

  He tipped his head in a way that said, “you’re welcome”.

  Oh, wow. If she had to deal with this out-of-control attraction she felt for him all day, she’d be in trouble. “What do you have planned for the day?” Maybe he’d drive into town and pick up supplies.

  He stretched his arms over his head and sighed. “I still have morning chores. Feed the horses. Clean their stalls. Weather is supposed to clear out this afternoon, and I have a filly I need to check on. I’ll have to ride though, instead of taking a four-wheeler. Too muddy for that.”

  She smiled. He sometimes talked like the weight of the world would likely drag him under, but she could see it in his eyes now, his passion for what he did. She tilted her head as she studied him. “You love it, don’t you?”

  He gave her a quizzical look. “Ranching?”

  She nodded, and he gifted her with that sexy, irresistible smile.

>   “Yeah. I can’t deny it’s in my blood.”

  “I can’t deny I’m a little bit jealous.” Of his house, his ranch, the beautiful country that was his workplace.

  “What do you have on your plate today?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “The usual, cooking and cleaning.” Lydia had lent her a couple of romance novels that she was eager to devour.

  “Anything that can’t wait?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your dinner?” she said sarcastically.

  He laughed. “Tell you what, you help me with chores today, and I’ll help you cook dinner. Between Lydia’s place and mine, you’ve been locked up inside a house for almost a month. I don’t know how you stand it.”

  She was starting to question her sanity, too. “Well, first off, I’m a little afraid to go out unless it’s dark. I’m sure you can understand my reasons. Second of all, I’m not tolerating the isolation very well. Some days, I fear my anxieties are going to eat me from the inside out.” She paused, shocked that she’d been so honest with him.

  He narrowed his gaze and shook his head. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “What am I going to say? I’m grateful beyond words to be here, and I don’t want to complain.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “You don’t feel safe here?”

  She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it, her thoughts contradicting each other. “I mean…I do. I sleep like the dead, which surprises me. But I can’t help feeling like I’m waiting for the other boot to drop.”

  His gaze darkened. “He’s not going to hurt you again, Scarlett. I can promise you that.”

  She wished she could be as certain. “You don’t know him like I do.”

  He dismissed her answer with a shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll die before I let him anywhere near you.”

  His declaration stilled her heart and made it hard to breathe. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He folded his arms and pinned her with a serious look. “You didn’t ask.”

  She searched for a way to counter what he’d said. “These are the repercussions of my choices, not yours.”