Hideaway

by Sandy James

  A smile bloomed as she inclined her head toward the table. “Seeing as you are clearly ravenous, shall we eat?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  * * *

  Kayla grabbed the book and took a seat on the sofa. As he usually did once supper was ended, Drake sat next to her and waited for her to read to him.

  Tonight, he was yawning. Not a surprise after such a long day. Before she opened the book, she patted her lap. “Perhaps you might wish to lay your head down and rest your eyes as I read our next chapter?”

  The look he gave her told her that was exactly what he wanted to do.

  So why did he hesitate?

  “The story will be more enjoyable if you make yourself comfortable.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “I would not have invited you to do so if I minded,” she replied.

  Turning, he stretched his legs out and placed his head against her thighs. Then he let out a contented sigh.

  She couldn’t help but smile in response. Before she opened the book, she combed her fingers through his hair. “As I mentioned before, you should let me cut your hair, Drake. It is far too long to be fashionable.”

  He snorted. “I don’t give a fig about fashion. I like my hair just fine.”

  “I do too,” she said, stopping herself before she blurted out the reason. He probably knew she nurtured a growing affection for him. He didn’t need her to tell him exactly how attractive she found him and how she liked the rugged length of his hair.

  After finding the proper place in the story, she held the book in her right hand as she rested the other on his stomach.

  With another sigh, Drake lifted her left hand and cradled it in his as she began to read.

  She didn’t finish three full pages before he fell asleep.

  Knowing he wouldn’t want her to keep reading and miss part of the story, Kayla closed the book and set it aside. Then she stared down at Drake.

  The man had turned her world upside down, but she didn’t regret meeting him for one moment. When she’d been forced to flee New York City and then St. Louis, she’d resigned herself to a future that was out of her control. She’d traveled here, ready to make a man she didn’t even know her husband. But that man, Caleb Young, had taken another woman to wife, someone he’d mistakenly believed was Kayla.

  With no other prospects and alone in an unknown town full of strangers, Kayla had panicked. Thankfully, two Prince Charmings stepped forward to offer her a home, and she’d come to work for Caleb’s brother Gideon and his lover Drew Pearson. Although she enjoyed living with the two men and keeping their house, she still felt as though she had no control over her life.

  All she’d ever wanted was a home of her own. When she confessed that to Drew, he and Gideon had decided to build her one. That was how the handsome man sleeping so peacefully on her lap had become a part of her world.

  What Kayla hadn’t confessed to Drew—to anyone but Gregory, actually—was that she wanted a family. A husband. Children. While there were plenty of prospective spouses in and around White Pines, she’d wanted nothing to do with the rough-and-tumble sort of men that were drawn to Montana.

  Until she met Drake.

  It was hard to admit to herself that she’d developed feelings for a man who had no intention of ever settling down. Yet she could no longer deny that she was falling for him, and God help her, she had no idea how she was going to cope when he finished building her home and went back to herding cattle.

  I shall be fine. I shall have a home of my own.

  Those words of affirmation seemed a bit hollow now.

  Kayla stroked his cheek, loving how he’d allowed his whiskers to grow for several days. They no longer rubbed roughly against her skin, instead feeling soft to the touch. In that moment, she decided that come what may, she’d use whatever time they had together to grab hold of all the good memories she could. They would make love, they would celebrate each day, and when the time came for him to go, she would hold firm to her resolve to set him free.

  There was only one complication left to consider. Should she wind up with child, she wouldn’t use that baby to hold onto him. Instead, she would love the child and be grateful to always have a part of Drake with her.

  She laid her head back against the sofa and let sleep claim her, that vow clearly in her mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  Drake woke while it was still dark. The fire had burned low, so he slipped out of bed to crouch by the hearth and add a couple of logs from the stockpile to be sure Kayla stayed warm. A glance back assured him she was still sleeping, and he figured he’d let her keep dreaming for a bit since it was Christmas Day.

  Rising, he went to stand by the bed. The soft firelight always made her skin appear golden, and the worry lines that often framed her eyes were gone. The news that she was still being tracked had disturbed her greatly, and he was at a loss on what to do to make that threat disappear. All he could do was shelter her and try to keep the rest of the world at bay.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Then a slow smile filled her face. “Happy Christmas.”

  Leaning in, he brushed a kiss on her lips. “Happy Christmas, darlin’.”

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “A bit before dawn, I think.”

  As he started to move away, Kayla twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Come back to bed?”

  Drake grinned. “If I do that, we’re not gonna sleep.”

  “That would be my fondest desire.” She tugged him harder.

  Sprawling over Kayla, he kissed her, a long deep exchange of tongues that quickly made him hard. When he eased back, he was pleased to see passion reflected in her eyes. What he shared with her was so different than anything else he’d ever known, and it suddenly dawned on him that he would never enjoy this kind of closeness again with another woman.

  Because he was falling for her.

  Before he could react to that startling thought, she eased herself from under him and got to her feet. She whipped her sleeping gown over her head and set it aside.

  His mouth went dry. Scrambling out of his long johns, he pulled the covers back and knelt on the mattress.

  Kayla came to him then, kneeling in front of him as she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest.

  In recognizing how he felt about her, Drake found freedom. He might not be able to tell her—might never be able to let her know of his love—but he could show her. Although she deserved a good man, one who could give her all that she’d lost in fleeing the Carringtons, he had her now. He could hold her in his arms and make love to her, and he intended to enjoy every moment of their time together before he lost her.

  There was something in Drake’s touch that made Kayla wonder what had changed. He seemed desperate, his kiss so full of need that she couldn’t help but respond in kind.

  How much time did they have left together?

  Probably not enough to satisfy her. She refused to waste a moment of it.

  He was raining kisses down her throat as he covered her breasts with his rough palms. Easing to his side, he followed his hands with his mouth, drawing a sensitive nipple between his lips.

  Kayla raked her fingers through his hair, trying not to pull too hard as she writhed beneath him. The suction he used seemed to reach all the way to her toes, and she could feel the familiar knot of pleasure building inside her.

  A little mewl of disappointment slipped out when he moved away from her. That soft sound was replaced with a startled squeak when he separated her thighs and kissed her core. Moving to put himself between her legs, he lavished her with attention, his tongue drilling inside her and then stroking her sensitive nub until she thought she would go mad.

  “Now, Drake. Please.”

  He refused her plea, instead increasing his attention until everything inside her burst, sending ecstasy racing through her. But he gave her no quarter, forcing her body to tighten again befo
re he rose above her and thrust himself inside her. Feeling him buried so deeply, she shattered again, this time calling his name as the waves of pleasure washed over her. He joined her in release a few moments later, pushing into her one last time as he let out a satisfied gasp that made her smile.

  Coming back to earth was slow, and Kayla loved the relaxed feeling that always came when he loved her—a peace of body and of mind that made her wish the rest of the world would simply pass them by. Here, in his arms, she’d found happiness.

  And her past might snatch it away.

  That thought rapidly cooled her blood, and when he rolled away from her, she jerked the covers up, trying to stop her shivers.

  As always, Drake was aware of her changing moods. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I should start preparing that goose as soon as chores are done. It was such a large bird, and Grace taught me that the larger the animal, the longer it should roast.” Kayla pictured the goose Drake had shot—one clean bullet through the head—and worried about how long it would take to prepare. “Perhaps the hens and cow can wait until I can get the goose over the fire.”

  “I’ll do your chores today,” he offered. “You can consider the morning to cook our Christmas meal my gift to you. Although…” He jumped out of bed and knelt next to the bed. Then he lifted the mattress and reached under it, pulling out a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. “I did get you this.” He laid the package on her lap after she sat up to lean against the headboard.

  “I did not expect a gift.” She’d planned to present his at dinner, but now she wondered if she should hurry to retrieve it.

  “Didn’t say you did,” he insisted. “Got this ’cause I know you needed it.”

  Pulling the string on the package, she untied it and then opened the brown paper to find thick, pink cloth. Wool, no doubt.

  “You can use it to make yourself some long johns. Some for a woman. You know, to keep your legs warm.”

  “How romantic,” she teased before giving him a quick kiss. “This was very thoughtful. I shall enjoy not having the wind whip up my skirts when I work outside.” She brushed another kiss on his lips.

  “I wish…” Drake let out a weighty sigh.

  Kayla cupped his face in her hand. “What do you wish, love?”

  “I wish I could buy you somethin’ pretty. Earrings. A broach.” He put his hand over hers. “I’d buy you diamonds.” He looked away. “If I could.”

  She turned his face back so she could see his eyes. “Diamonds do not buy happiness. The beautiful fabric you gave me is much more useful and will surely give me more comfort than some silly, shiny stones.”

  All he did was nod, and she knew she hadn’t soothed him. With a sigh of her own, she glanced to the window. “We should rise, even though the sun has yet to show its face.” On her feet, she shivered before glancing back at him. “Happy Christmas, Drake.”

  “Happy Christmas, Kayla.”

  * * *

  Drake pushed back from the table, stuffed and growing sleepy. “That was a mighty fine Christmas meal, Kayla.” For someone who’d come from a privileged background, she’d become quite well-versed in farm life. Whether she was cooking or tending the livestock, she seemed comfortable and never once complained about everything she needed to do.

  Kayla favored him with a beguiling smile. “Why, thank you kindly, Drake. I fear I should give the credit to Grace Morgan, though. She taught me how to cook everything.” A yawn slipped out. “Pardon me,” she ground out before another yawn overtook her. “How rude of me.”

  He let out a chuckle. “You mean yawnin’? Shit— Um…shoot. No need to apologize.”

  “Seems impolite to yawn so openly. I am simply too tired to stop myself.”

  “Of course, you’re tired. I am too. Days are short, and we both work hard. After stuffin’ myself with that great meal, I wanna loosen my belt, put my feet up, and sleep for a spell.” After glancing to the kitchen, he frowned. “How about we put the food up, then save cleaning the dishes for later? We can take a short nap to get our energy back, then we’ll tackle the kitchen.”

  “While that sounds tempting”—she cast a glance at the mess—“I really cannot leave everything so untidy.”

  On his feet, Drake picked up the platter with the remaining slices of goose. “Sure you can. We’ll sit by the fire and nap on the sofa.”

  Kayla followed, still frowning.

  As though to change her expression, he gave her a kiss. “It’s Christmas. What harm can it to do save the work for just a bit?”

  “I’m not sure… The kitchen is so disorderly.”

  “Who’s gonna see it?”

  She finally smiled and nodded. “Fine. We shall do things your way.”

  * * *

  Drake was dragged out of sleep by a noise. What noise, he wasn’t sure. But something wasn’t right. A moment later, footsteps echoed from the porch.

  On his feet in a heartbeat, he couldn’t spare the time to worry about the fact that he’d all but knocked Kayla off his shoulder in his haste to get to the shotgun he kept close to the door.

  Someone was here. No doubt some varmints from town thinking to catch them unawares. As the doorknob turned, Drake signaled to Kayla.

  She obeyed his direction, quickly scrambling to move. She crouched near the sofa and waited, her anxious eyes flitting between the door and Drake.

  The door slowly creaked, and he used the advantage of surprise to snatch it open. “Hold it right there!”

  The man stepped back, eyes wide as he showed his hands to reveal that he held no weapon. Then he grinned. “That’s quite a welcome home.”

  “Jesus have mercy.” Drake lowered the weapon, shaken at what could’ve happened if he hadn’t recognized the person who stood in the doorway. “What in the hell are you doing, Gideon?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kayla let out a surprised gasp. “Gideon! You’re home!” Then she looked past him, expecting to see Drew close on his heels. She was confused when all Gideon did was close the door behind him. “Where is Drew?”

  Gideon shook his head. While he was typically a man of few words, the tightness of his expression told her he didn’t want to talk about what had him returning to Montana on his own.

  Was the hesitation because of his usual aloofness, or was he wanting to speak to her without Drake overhearing? Either way, she would follow his example and respect his desire to leave the question hanging.

  He glanced to the kitchen and frowned. “Appears that a storm went roaring through here.”

  Kayla’s cheeks heated. She went first to give Gideon a hug—one that seemed awkward for the first time since he and Drew had taken her in—and then hurried toward the kitchen. “I shall put things to right,” she called over her shoulder. “After our Christmas meal, we were both so sleepy, and…” She whirled back around. “Heavens, I forgot to wish you a Happy Christmas, Gideon.”

  He simple grunted and inclined his head in acknowledgment.

  “We took a nap,” Drake said with a shrug.

  “I shall not let this happen again,” she assured Gideon.

  Drake rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more than a little nervous that Gideon’s stare had shifted from the messy kitchen to him. That gaze seemed accusatory—or was that simply his own guilty conscience?

  “Didn’t see smoke coming from the loft’s chimney.” Gideon folded his arms over his chest. “Gotta be damn cold sleepin’ out there without a fire.”

  A pan clattered to the floor. “Pardon,” Kayla said, clearly flustered.

  Gideon scowled in her direction before glaring at Drake again.

  The tight-lipped frown directed at him made him fidget. He couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable if Gideon had accused him of raping her.

  “You and me need to have a talk. Now.” Gideon inclined his head at the door.

  Drake grabbed his coat from where it hung by the door. “I
was just headin’ out to do evening chores.”

  “Think I’ll join you.”

  Drake made his way to the barn, looking back at his “shadow” and hoping he would survive this ordeal. He shoved the barn door open with his shoulder. The last thing in the world he wanted was to have Gideon following him, especially since the man was probably going to start in on questions about Kayla.

  He tried to dissuade Gideon by turning the topic. “Is Drew stayin’ with his family a bit longer? Gotta say I was surprised to see you here without him. Was his mother—”

  The word was cut off when Gideon fisted his hands in Drake’s coat and pinned him against a stall. “You bastard. I oughta beat the life outta you!”

  Although Drake felt the guilty heat on his cheeks, he refused to kiss and tell. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “The hell you don’t. I checked the loft before I came in the house. You ain’t been stayin’ out here. Not for a long time.”

  “I’ve been sleepin’ in the house,” Drake said, before a loud huff spilled out when Gideon shoved him harder against the stall.

  “In her bed, you son of a bitch. I told Drew this would happen. I knew you couldn’t leave her alone. You fuckin’ bastard. I oughta—”

  “Gideon!” Kayla’s soft voice came from behind Gideon’s hulking, angry frame. “Release him. Now.”

  “I’m gonna whup him ’til he admits the truth,” Gideon insisted. It was the first time Drake could remember when the man didn’t immediately jump to Kayla’s command.

  Not that Drake could blame him. At that moment, he felt as though he deserved a good beating. He’d taken her innocence and given her no promises for the future.

  He was a bastard.

  “I told you to release him.” There was steel in her voice, which was probably why Gideon obeyed.

  “Has he been in your bed?” Gideon asked, blunt as always.