Against the Wall mm-1

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “That’s an order from both the chief and your grandpa, boy,” the chief said with a hard glint in his eye.

  Jake turned to Sophie, his broad form blocking the sunlight. Humor creased his cheek, adding charm to the lethal angles of his face. “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning.”

  “Wow.” Sophie smiled at the chief. “Can you order him to stop being obnoxious and arrogant, too?”

  Jake shot her a warning glance.

  The chief roared out a deep laugh. “Sorry, Sophie. Those traits are from his grandma’s side.” The elder chuckled as he ambled out the door.

  “I am not going horseback riding with you.” Sophie rounded on Jake and threw her hands in the air before leaving his office to head outside. Sure, she needed to see the area to get a better idea for her design—just to make sure she’d covered all her bases. But she’d drive there.

  “It appears you are, darlin’. Where we’re going is only accessible via horseback. No vehicles.” He moved silently, his scent of man and musk swimming over her as he reached the door and opened it.

  Damn it. Now she needed to ride another horse.

  Jake turned her around, and a broad hand at her lower back propelled her into sunshine. Natural pine scent filled the air, and gravel crunched underneath their feet. He walked her to the Jeep and opened the driver’s door, his hands sliding around her waist.

  The gentle touch slid right under her skin, zinged around, and throbbed between her legs. She coughed. “I can get into the Jeep.”

  He grinned and lifted her inside. “I know, but my mama taught me to be a gentleman.”

  Sophie swallowed. “That wasn’t gentlemanly.”

  His chuckle caressed her skin as if his tongue traced each inch. “I didn’t say I was good at the lessons.” His hands lingered on her waist, and his midnight dark eyes caressed her heated features.

  Sophie tried to ignore the strength in the hands at her hips. He had lifted her into the Jeep like she weighed nothing. And his broad chest blocked out the sun. In fact, all she could see were those onyx eyes devouring her. Interest and something even darker lurked there. Flutters cascaded through her belly.

  The man wanted to kiss her.

  Chapter Three

  Jake captured her lips, the jolt of instant lust shocking him.

  So he forced himself to slow down and explore softly, gently, at his leisure. He wasn’t a man who lost control. Ever.

  One hand cupped her head, holding her where he wanted her. Her eyes closed, and he took the kiss deeper, his cells exploding as heat shot through his blood. His gentle hold kept her firmly in place as he controlled them both.

  Desire and a shocking intimacy careened through him. Under his touch, the woman stilled, no doubt fighting to keep sane. It was too late for sanity. Way too late. With the hint of a growl, his tongue invaded her mouth. He took his time learning her texture, memorizing her taste. The hand at her nape threaded into her hair, and he pressed her against the seat.

  She clenched his shirt and slid her tongue against his.

  Fire boiled through him, and his groan of approval filled her mouth. His hand slid from her waist and relaxed against her thigh, her toned muscle tempting him to yank the material away. Then he tugged her around, and her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples pebbling.

  Lava cascaded down his spine to spark his balls. He wanted her naked. Now.

  Obviously, the woman had no clue how close to the edge he’d slipped. She burrowed farther into his body, returning his kiss. They both panted when he finally lifted his head.

  Her eyes had darkened to dangerous blue depths, wide and unseeing on his.

  His hand released her curls before stroking along her jaw to cup her chin. He watched the path of his thumb as it ran along her swollen bottom lip. Tempting. Too damn tempting. Her tongue slipped out and grazed his thumb.

  He bit back a growl and forced himself to relax. They were fully clothed, in a parking area next to headquarters, and he’d never wanted a woman more. But this was neither the time nor the place. Definitely not the place.

  And he knew he’d have her–without question. But he wanted all night from dawn to dusk to explore whatever this was.

  Awareness slid across her face, and she yanked her hands away. “I, ah, have to go.”

  He’d grant her a brief reprieve. Jake leaned in and pulled the seat belt between her breasts before clicking it firmly in place. “Go ahead and run, Sunshine. I caught you once before.” The door closed, but he made sure she could still hear him. “And I will again.”

  Jake’s warning echoed through her head for the rest of the day until she finally gave up and tried to get some sleep. The sheets tangled around her restless legs as she struggled to find a comfortable position. What in the hell had happened earlier? She had never reacted so mindlessly to a kiss, especially a first kiss. She didn’t even like the man.

  Except she did like him—wanted him more than she’d thought possible. That pissed her off even more. She didn’t have time for romance.

  Jake Lodge had better keep his damn lips to himself when they met the following day. Plus, what was up with the veiled threat that he would catch her again? The fluttering in her stomach was from her late dinner. It had to be.

  She rolled and punched the pillow into a better shape. Then she punched it again and groaned while throwing an arm across her eyes.

  Sleep finally claimed her in the early morning hours.

  Sophie found herself wandering through the forest where Jake had rescued her on horseback. Birds chirped, trees swayed in the breeze, and an unexpected peace filled her. The forest opened into a small clearing against a large hill set with rocks. Below her, Mineral Lake twinkled in light blue solitude, its peace undisturbed and placid. Sophie strolled to one thick rock and sat down, tipping up her face to the sun for warmth. She sighed deeply, her eyes closed, her limbs slowly relaxing

  Then she opened her eyes and yelped.

  “Hi there, Sophie.” A grin met her yelp. He was old. Ancient, even. Long white hair, deep black eyes, and weathered skin. Wisdom surrounded him like a fine mist, even with his pink lips tipped up in humor. He sat on a thick rock across from hers.

  Okay. She was dreaming. It was all right. Black cowboy boots, faded Levi’s, and red-checked Western shirt contrasted with his likely mystical heritage. A scent of honeysuckle wafted around her on the wings of wizardly mist. Was he here to guide her? “Hi, er, ah…”

  “Bob.” He was about her height and softly rounded.

  “Bob?” Sophie huffed out a laugh.

  A vigorous head nod came in response.

  “Okay…Bob.” Sophie looked around the forested area and placid lake. “Are you some type of spirit guide or something?”

  “Nope.” Bob grabbed a blade of grass and gnawed on it.

  “Mystic?”

  “Nope.”

  “Medicine man?”

  “Nope.”

  “Guru? Swami? Leprechaun?”

  “Nope, nope, and nope.”

  Sophie mused for a moment. “Oh geez. You’re not the land, are you?”

  Bob chuckled. “Do I look like land?” He shook his head in unison with her.

  Sophie wrinkled her forehead. “Well then, who are you?”

  “I’m Bob,” he said in exasperation, dark eyes roaming over her, obviously speculating about her intelligence.

  “Fine.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Why are you here, Bob?”

  “Why are any of us here?” At her low hiss, Bob lifted his hands, palms up. “It’s your dream. Not mine.”

  “That’s true,” Sophie said slowly. “But I’ve never had a dream like this.”

  “Like what?” Bob coughed after accidentally swallowing some of the grass.

  “Clear. Real. Bright.” She gazed suspiciously at the elderly man. “Are you sure you aren’t here for a reason?”

  “Oh, we’re all here for a reason.”

  “Damn it, Bob,” she snapped. Heat f
lared in her face. She probably shouldn’t swear at whatever Bob was.

  “Damn it, Sophie,” Bob countered with another grin.

  Her lips lifted at his sarcasm. Two could play at that game. “Guide me.”

  “Maybe you’re here to guide me.” Bob leaned back against the rock face and sighed in contentment.

  “Then you’re in a heap of trouble.” Sophie copied his pose, letting the sun warm her through. The wind caressed her hair, and the sun heated her just under the skin. The sharp tang of honeysuckle tickled her nose, and she opened her eyes. Bob was gone.

  “Figures,” Sophie muttered before closing her eyes again.

  The morning sun poked through a light gauze of clouds while Jake maneuvered his truck across town.

  “Why can’t I come on the picnic and meet the golf course lady?” The litany of questions continued from the backseat.

  Jake drove the Dodge pickup around a pothole, then glanced in the rearview mirror and met piqued feminine eyes. Eyes so much like his own. “Because you have plans to bead necklaces with your grandmother, pumpkin.”

  “I don’t wanna bead necklaces. I wanna go on the picnic.” Irritation turned to sweetness. “Please, Daddy? I want to meet the city lady.”

  “Nice try, Leila.” His grin matched hers.

  “I bet she has Manolo Blahniks.” His daughter’s expression turned dreamy.

  “Manolo what?” He turned down a narrow dirt driveway lined with lodge pole pines.

  “Ah, Dad,” Leila huffed in pity. “Blahniks. Shoes. Really pretty shoes.”

  “You’re six years old. Since when do you care about shoes?”

  Midnight black eyes widened on his before Leila gave a delicate shrug and stared intently out the window.

  “Leila?” He used his best no-nonsense tone. The one that promised a lack of ice cream in the future if she didn’t answer.

  Leila sighed before turning back to meet his eyes. “Since me and Grets and Sally watched Sex and the City.”

  Jake gaped at his daughter. His baby with her long dark hair pulled into two pigtails and her pert little nose. “Sex and the City?”

  “Yep.” The grin showed a gap from a missing tooth.

  Jake’s lips tightened. “Where?”

  “At Sally’s house after school last week.”

  “Her mother let you?”

  “Well, not zactly.”

  “Meaning?” He stopped the truck before a two-story log home surrounded by wild purple, yellow, and red flowers. He shifted in his seat to face his daughter. She looked innocent and pretty in her blouse and light jeans with tiny tennis shoes.

  “Um, well, her mom thought we were watching a cartoon about kittens in her room, but we kind of put in the other movie instead.” A guilty flush stole across Leila’s olive skin.

  “Well, I will call Madeline later today so she knows what you three were up to,” Jake said sternly before jumping from the truck and opening the back door. He released the seat belt and helped his daughter out of her car seat before shaking his head. “And you get no television for a week.”

  “A week?” Leila wailed just as Jake’s mother opened the door and gracefully crossed the faded deck.

  “Want to make it two?”

  “No.” Leila took off at a run toward her grandma the second Jake put her on her feet.

  Jake turned in exasperation as the two women in his life embraced.

  “Daddy’s being mean,” Leila whined.

  “Men,” his mother agreed, a twinkle in her dark eyes.

  Jake gave her a warning glance before stalking over and kissing her weathered cheek. His mother was truly a beautiful woman. Nearly a foot shorter than him, petite, and slender, she had passed on her black eyes as well as her straight, patrician bone structure, whereas he had inherited his broad frame from his father.

  The braid through her gray hair deserved a tug, and Jake complied.

  “Why are you picking on my granddaughter?” She smacked him on the arm.

  “Because your granddaughter watched Sex and the City last week.”

  “Oh my.” Loni Freeze grinned before turning to his urchin. “Why did you watch that?”

  “To see the pretty clothes. And shoes. And the big city with the big stores and buildings.” Leila sighed.

  Jake’s gut rolled at her words. “The city isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be, Leila.”

  “Jake, all girls dream of big stores in pretty cities,” his mother chided.

  “I’m well aware of that,” he replied grimly. And he was. He and Leila had lost too much due to the lure of the big city life.

  His thoughts flashed to Sophie. Even her name screamed city girl. He couldn’t believe that he’d kissed her. What the hell had he been thinking? A slow grin ripped across his face. Damn it. He wanted to do it again.

  “You have that look.” His mother’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “What look?” he asked, all innocence.

  “That look. The one you had right before riding that untamable stallion, Satan. Incidentally, does your arm still ache before a storm?”

  “Hmmm.”

  “The look you had when your brother dared you to jump off Smitty’s cliff into the lake.” His mother continued with a huff. “The look you had when—”

  “All right. I know the look.” The grin deserted his face. “I don’t have it right now.”

  His mother opened her mouth to speak, only to have Leila interrupt. “Where’s Grandpa Tom?”

  “He’s mending fences in the south pasture. He’ll be back in time for lunch with you,” Loni assured her granddaughter.

  “Mending fences?” Jake frowned. “Why didn’t he call?”

  “Because”—Loni reached up to peck him on a cheek—“your stepfather is just like you. He doesn’t ask for help.”

  “I ask for help.” Jake nodded toward his daughter.

  “Humph,” Loni replied with a twinkle. “Shouldn’t you get going on your date?”

  “It’s not a date.”

  She shrugged. “I heard it’s a date.”

  “Your father had better not be matchmaking, Mom.”

  “I have no control over your grandfather.” A smile lit her pretty face. “Have you noticed that we never quite claim him?”

  “I wonder why?” Jake glanced at his watch. “I have to get going—for my business meeting.” He emphasized the last two words before swooping down to kiss his daughter on the head.

  His mother’s voice stopped him just as he reached the truck. “Maybe it’s time to date again.”

  “Maybe,” he allowed with a cautious look at his suddenly curious daughter. “But not some city girl with Manolos. Whatever the hell those are.” His gaze narrowed at his mother, who had an arm around his child. The homestead sat strong and solid behind them. Happy whinnies cascaded out of the deep green paddocks to the south, while the scents from steers to pasture wafted around.

  Dust, dirt, and nature commingled into a combination of home.

  With a shake of his head, he tossed his black Stetson across the front seat and jumped into the truck to meet the woman he’d kissed. A woman who belonged on his dusty ranch as much as a stallion belonged on Park Avenue. But first, he had a stop to make.

  He drove through town to the general store, dodging inside to make his purchase. Within fifteen minutes he was back in the truck heading toward the edge of town, wondering when his daughter had stopped watching cartoons. His thoughts still whirled when he wiped his black boots on the mat adorning Shiller’s B&B’s large porch, removed his hat, and knocked on the door.

  Sophie opened it immediately, fresh and pretty in dark jeans, frilly white blouse, and a braid looking too similar to his mother’s.

  “These are for you.” Jake handed her a large white box. Roses came in big white boxes, and he wondered belatedly if she’d be disappointed. They weren’t flowers.

  Sophie stuttered in surprise as she accepted the box. She flipped open the lid and sighed out lou
d. “You brought me boots?” Her face wrinkled in confusion.

  “Yeah. They’re not Manolos.” Jake shuffled his boots. “Plain old cowboy boots, and you’ll need them for your ride today.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Sophie breathed out. Soft calfskin leather colored a creamy beige with a pointed toe. She hurried over to the wide porch swing covering one side of the wraparound porch and slipped off her tennis shoes.

  “Dawnie picked them out. She had to guess at the size.” Thank goodness his sister had time between classes to help him out.

  “They’re perfect,” Sophie said after yanking both boots up under her jeans. She stood, the boots giving her a couple inches in height. “But I can’t accept them.” Regret colored her words to reflect in her blue eyes.

  Jake grinned. He couldn’t help it. What was it with women and shoes? Sophie looked like she was about to cry at giving up the boots.

  “Montana law, ma’am.”

  “Huh?”

  “Montana law. A representative of the bar association, me, gives an associate boots, you, then state law dictates you have to keep them.”

  “Really?” Sophie laughed and shook her head.

  “Really,” Jake affirmed solemnly.

  “No, Jake—”

  “Please, Sophie? You’re probably used to more lavish gifts, but I really want you to have them.”

  She looked in wonder at her pretty new boots. “I’m not used to gifts at all. Thank you. These are perfect.” She balanced up on her toes and back down like a graceful ballerina.

  “You’re welcome,” he said thoughtfully. How odd. Why wasn’t she used to gifts? “I don’t suppose you know how to ride a horse?”

  Sophie’s gaze flew to his face. Her partial-lesson the other day on his horse didn’t count. “Um, not exactly…”

  Chapter Four

  Too soon, Sophie was giving it a try. “All right Mertyl, that’s right, slow and easy,” she crooned to the painted mare, her entire body tense and expecting to hit the ground. Eyes forward, Mertyl plodded ahead with a bored whinny. At least, it sounded like boredom.

  Thick pine trees unfolded lush branches on either side of the dirt trail as a woodpecker beat a sharp staccato tune somewhere high up. Orange honeysuckle and thick huckleberry bushes fought for dominance throughout the trees, their sweet scents mixing with sharp pine. A cool breeze wafted through the sharp sunlight angling through branches and brought peace to the area.