by Kristi Rose
“Now?” Marjory looked at her quizzically.
“I see now that I spent a lot of time in denial. In grief maybe. Now, here, I’m starting to leave that behind, and I think that’s what she would have wanted.”
“And your father?”
Meredith shrugged. “Maybe he’s still stuck there. I don’t know. But we don’t speak anymore.”
Marjory flung an arm around Meredith’s shoulder and side-hugged her. “You have us now. You’re a Shepard, and we Shepard’s love fiercely and loyally, laugh as much as we can, and fight just as often, too.”
“Sounds marvelous.” And it did.
At the back door Marjory stopped and stared at a dry patch of land, some unruly bushes, and frowned. Sprigs of grass were shooting up in patches, it’s haphazard care out of place on the well-maintained ranch.
“What did that used to be?” It was too close to the house to be the burned-out bunkhouse.
“My garden. Every year I planted fruits and vegetables. It was something for me. Something I enjoyed.” She shook her head sadly. “This year there has been no time.”
Meredith inspected the area, imagining it in rows of glorious produce, picturing herself helping. She needed a way to fill the day. Cooking and egg gathering weren’t going to be enough. Unsure if she was about to do the right thing but willing to try Meredith made an offer. “Can I give it a go? I know absolutely nothing, but if you tell me what to do, I think I might be able to manage it.”
Marjory beamed. “Do you really think so? If you can get them in the ground this week, we have a good shot of getting some goodies. I’ll be able to help when we move back.”
“I can’t make any promises. I know not the color of my thumbs.” For good measure, she wagged them.
Marjory laughed. “It’s better than nothing.”
They spent the afternoon in the kitchen, Meredith taking copious notes on both cooking and the garden. When Marjory left before the sun set, Meredith was overwhelmed in an exciting and invigorating way. She had something to do, and it was all of her own making. No one was forcing her and, yeah, she was helping others, like she did with the charities, only this time she would see the impact. This time it was strictly because she wanted to help.
First order of business? The manager’s cabin. She made her way to the small log cabin to check it out. A quick inspection showed that a little hard work and elbow grease was all it needed to be comfortable and habitable. It was in remarkably good shape. She had an idea and couldn’t wait to tell Jace when he got home.
Chapter 16
More heads lost. A certain percentage was expected every year, but he’d be damned if he hadn’t tried to get that number lower, and here it was higher. He and Tuck managed to move the herd from far out closer to Mr. Beasley’s land back toward the homestead. It wasn’t ideal, but action had to happen, and short of putting a man on them twenty-four seven, he had no other solution.
He’d laughed when Tuck suggested a GO-PRO to possibly capture what was happening, but in truth is wasn’t the worst idea.
On that note, he’d cut Tuck lose and had headed home himself, a new and wonderful mix of excitement and pleasure adding haste to his steps. Jace was used to working long days, because why not? What was there to do when the day ended? He'd come home, open a can of something, shower, and then fall into bed in preparation to start it all over again the following morning. Before his parents had moved into town for his dad’s therapy, he’d come home to them and an active house. He was now realizing how lonely it had been with them gone.
The porch light was on, as was the one in the front room. When he steered his horse to the barn and around the house, he could see the kitchen light was burning as well. Jace smiled. He was tempted to throw off the saddle and toss some hay to Pal, his horse, but the beast had worked hard and deserved better. Pal didn't care that Jace was having trouble delaying his own wants and needs.
Following a quick brush down and feeding, Jace made his way to the house. His Stetson off his head, bumping against his thigh, he tried to make his appearance less disheveled by raking his hair back with his hands. He and Tuck had rode hard today and, following a quick whiff of his shirt, smelled like it, too.
Once inside, he called out Meredith’s name.
“In the kitchen,” she called back.
“I need a shower. I’ll be right back.” He thundered up the stairs and took the quickest shower of his life. Apparently he was setting records with bathing these days. Soon he’d be wiping himself down with a rag and calling it good.
Downstairs, when he entered the kitchen, he found her bent over the oven taking something out and was immensely pleased he'd hurried so he hadn't missed this moment. He liked his woman a little thicker, but he found the curve of her ass very appealing.
“It smells good in here.” The island was set with two plates, a bowl of salad, and….
“Do I smell coffee?” He was pulled to the machine like a horseshoe to a magnet.
“Yes, it’s still good.” She stood, moved to the island, and slid the hot plate onto the surface. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her face pink from the oven heat. She was a knockout, looking like she belonged with her worn jeans and his flannel shirt took his breath away.
She caught him staring at her, and she looked down. “Oh, I borrowed your shirt because I was working in your mom’s garden and got mine dirty. I hope—”
“It suits you.” He grinned.
She grinned back.
Instant hard-on. That’s how pathetic he was. It must be male DNA because he was raised by a woman who didn't tolerate gender profiling and stereotyping, but damn if he wasn’t all proud with a puffed-out chest to find a sexy woman in his kitchen, making dinner for him, wearing his shirt.
“I’m glad you're home. I have lots to share.” She gestured for him to sit.
And this woman was waiting for him. Hell, if he wasn't so hungry, he’d clear the island of its plates and take her on top of it. Her presence wielded that sort of power over him. Cripes, he needed another shower, a frigid one, or a distraction. He searched the room for something else to focus on and set his attention on the food.
“You had a nice day?” He slid into a seat.
She nodded. “I know this is nothing fancy, but I’m hoping it will get better.” She took the stool next to him.
“What’s is it? It looks good.” He cut a wedge from the savory-smelling dish, his stomach growling as the whiff of seasoned beef hit his nose. He wasn't sure what it was but, hell, he was hungry enough to eat just about anything. He didn't really care what it was.
She beamed with pride. “Hamburger pie and salad.”
Without trepidation, he took a bite. The bottom was a bit overcooked and dark but he’d eaten squirrel and rattlesnake before so this was going to be easy to choke down if it was no good. To his surprise, it was tasty.
“This isn’t that bad. I actually like it.” He took another wedge.
“Your mom came around. She tried to get me to do something more adventurous but I figured a handful of ingredients is a good place to start.”
“Mom was here? Why didn’t she call me? Did you mention that you...you know...about the cooking?” He loaded his plate with salad. It'd been months since he had food that wasn't from a jar or can.
“I suppose she came to see me and yes, I told her. It came up.”
He stopped eating. “And what did she say?”
“A lot about coffee and little about the garden in the back. I’m going to work on it with her when they move back. Which should happen in a couple of weeks, right?” Her shoulders rose, and she grimaced as though the info might make him upset. Damn, she must have lived a life that was constant walking on eggshells.
“She said two weeks?” Jace slapped his knee with pleasure. “Damn, it will be good to have Pops around.”
Her shoulders dropped, and she picked up her fork to eat. “It will be nice to have someone around while you’re out all day.
”
Jace put down his fork. “Are you okay with starting the garden? It might be harder than you think. Frustrating for sure.” He didn't want Meredith to bite off more than she could chew. He wanted her to find life easier here than wherever it was she'd come from.
She dismissed his concerns with a wave.
“She asked my permission to move back. To which I said ‘don’t be silly’ because this is their house. They can move back anytime.” She smiled and quirked a brow. “Right?”
“Yeah.” He liked the idea of Pops being back on the ranch, sharing in discussion about all the issues. But the added stress of having his folks here, his father needing twenty-four hour care, would add strain on all of them. Jace shifted in his seat, resting one hand on his thigh. “It’ll be hard having him here. Hard watching Mom work her tail off caring for him. Hard watching him struggle to get around the house. You up for that?”
“Part of the reason I'm here is to give your father something. A…?” She gestured for him to fill in the words.
“A sense of peace about me and my well-being.”
“Right, and I understand where you're coming from with that. So let me do my part. This is the first time in years I’ve felt useful, and I really like it.” Her brows knitted with worry. “Your mom and I had a wonderful afternoon, and I think she needs to be here just as much as your dad.”
Jace searched her face, looking for any sign she was less than sincere, but came up with nothing. If there was anything more appealing than someone being invested in another person, he wasn’t sure what it was. Without hesitation, he pulled the stool she was sitting on closer to him, resting his legs on either side of hers, trapping her between them. She bit her lip.
“What?” he asked.
“If this is too presumptuous, please say so, but I had a look at the old ranch manager’s cottage, and I think we could live there and let your folks have this place. This is their home.”
Jace was awed by her thoughtfulness. The girls of his past, the ones he thought could be his future, would never have considered living in a small log cabin with rustic plumbing. Here Meredith was ready to give up the big house for something a fraction of the size. One minute he’s thinking she’s too pampered and spoiled without a basic knowledge of cooking, and the next she’s digging in and making meals and putting his family first.
Determined. That's how he'd describe her.
“I’m not sure how this is all going to play out between us, but what you’ve just said does something to me, Meredith.” He slid a hand up her thigh and watched a lovely shade of pink color her beautiful face.
She looked up at him through her lashes. “Something good?” Her low voice matched her flirty look.
The space around them crackled with an electric charge. Jace knew if he gave into his desires, it would consume him soon. He was ready to get lost in it and her.
“Yeah. Real good. There’s something here, don’t you think?” He stroked her cheek with one hand and used the one on her thigh to make lazy circles with his thumb, hoping to remind her of what they’d already shared.
She nodded.
He eased his hand to cup the back of her head and draw her forward. He brushed his lips over hers softly, then firmer a second time. Her hand came to rest on his arm as she shifted closer, teetering on the edge of her stool. Much like they were teetering on consummating their marriage. The air around them grew thin, leaving them to suck in slow, deep breaths at first, but as each kiss passed, their want hitched higher, beating a heavy pulse inside them, chanting for more, more, more.
In the truck the other day, Jace had blown Meredith’s mind with simple touches and caresses. Well, some stroking as well. She’d naively thought it couldn’t get any better than that heightened state of dizziness he made her feel. But this moment? It was not unlike the pounding need for his touch that she’d come to understand was her attraction for him, but more an internal, crazed sense of frenzy to get her hands all over him.
He’d come down from the shower, just like this morning, with his shoulder-hugging T-shirt, his butt-cupping jeans, and she’d wanted to jump on the island and ask him to make her his dinner, dessert, and breakfast. The awakening within her was wondrous and frightening at the same time.
So many questions she wanted to ask, so many words she wanted to use to beg him to do more to her. Give her more. Take her further. Show her everything.
He plunged his tongue in her mouth, meeting hers, and she melted into him. His fingers were on the buttons of her shirt, and when he got to the last one, he slipped the shirt off her shoulders, his long fingers caressing her skin as he ran them down the length of her arms before sliding them to her back where he deftly released her bra.
Combined with the shocking pleasure and intimacy of his thumbs stroking her breasts and the cold sweep of air across her skin brought common sense screaming caution in her mind like a loud obnoxious warning bell. Meredith jerked back, gasped, and covered her hands over her chest.
“What are we doing?” She hoped he could explain their actions in such a way that demanded they see it through. She desperately wanted the entire experience. However, that didn't mean she should have it.
Jace dropped his head, then sighed deeply, before looking up at her. “I'd like to say we're two adults, married to each other, and there's no harm with what we're doing.”
“But?” She hunched down and quickly drew her shirt back up, clutching the sides together and covering her chest.
Jace winced slightly. “Um, have you ever done this before?”
She tried for a blank expression, hoping her naivete wasn't so obvious. “This—like get married and fool around? No.”
Jace continued to watch her, waiting for the answer to the question she knew he was really asking. She shook her head and sucked in a deep breath, as if it would make the heat spreading over her cheeks cool.
“Not with anyone?” he asked.
She shook her head again and swallowed, her eyes focused on her knees.
He reached for her face, cupped her chin, and then raised her head. “There's the ‘but.’ You've never done this before, and you can't begin to know what you're getting into. But your first time should be all you need it to be. But the circumstances are unusual and that could be affecting our judgment.”
“And whatever this is...chemistry maybe––”
“Is fleeting most likely.” Jace held his gaze with hers. “And the last thing I'd want is to make being here harder than it need be. It's important to me that you stay for Pops and that you find life here easy enough.”
Meredith pulled away, shifting back in her stool, her hands still clutched to the folds of the shirt. “Sex would likely complicate that.”
“It definitely would.” He looked away toward the food. “We should eat before this gets cold.”
Meredith smiled, his subject change was likely an attempt to not make this moment any more awkward than it already was, but what was she supposed to do? Button up her shirt and dig in? She hadn’t developed that sort of casual worldliness...yet.
“Actually, I snacked all day so I think I'll go up and try to get some rest. It's been a full day and there's lots I want to tackle tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” He stood when she did.
“Positive.” She used one of large, lots-of-teeth false smiles in hopes to ease any of his doubt. “I'll see you in the morning.” Without waiting for a response, she hurried from the kitchen and nearly broke into a run when she hit the stairs. Once behind the privacy of her bedroom door, Meredith let the embarrassment overtake her.
Ugh. It was all so confusing. What she wanted, what she should want, and what she should do about it all. She'd need to think it through and make a firm resolution about how to proceed. Pressing her ear to the door, she waited until she was sure he didn't follow her and crept back out, making her way to the bathroom where she got ready for bed. Back in her room, she laid in bed with the lights out, staring at the window and the
beams of moonlight flooding in and asked herself what it was she wanted from this experience. It was much longer before she heard Jace clomp up the stairs, then pause outside her door. Meredith's breath stuck in her throat until he moved on to his room.
Even knowing he was close made her palms sweaty and her heartbeat erratic, and she knew fighting a heart's—or maybe in this case their bodies’––desires was going to complicate their situation just as much. It was more an issue of which complication would be easiest to live with. Keeping sex out of the deal was probably for the best. Her common sense told her that.
Therefore, with solid determination, she made a promise to herself to behave before falling into a fitful sleep full of dreams of Jace's rough hands all over her body.
Chapter 17
Jace stood next to Meredith's bed, hesitating to wake her. Cripes, she was beautiful. Her hair spread around her, her lips slightly parted, and her bare shoulder peeking out from the covers were enough to make him revisit the conversation he'd had with himself most of last night. Hell with sleeping, he'd spent the time tossing and turning, trying to convince himself to keep his hands off her. Deep inside him lived a fear that if they consummated the marriage, it would inevitably force her off the ranch.
Yet, here he was considering slipping between the sheets with her and making promises he was certain he couldn't keep just to spend close time with her. The memories of every touch––from the first at the church to last night in the kitchen––stayed with him. They clamored to be relived and new ones discovered. He pushed all that aside and reminded himself why he sought her out this morning.
He wanted to show her the ranch and continue to forge the friendship that was forming between them. This is what they needed if they were going to make it through these last few months with Pops. He was counting on her, and developing that trust and friendship would go a long way to easing his worry she might hate the ranch and bolt at any minute.
He nudged her shoulder and whispered, “Hey.” Instant heat to his body just from the one touch.
