She fell back onto her elbows, her smile a siren’s song. Apparently, for this stolen moment in time, she was willing to forget her vow to leave him.
Keeping her gaze, allowing her to see the hunger raging through him, he slowly unbuckled his belt. He wanted to bury himself in her so deep she’d never consider leaving him. He kicked the jeans and briefs to the rosebushes and slid on a condom.
Feminine awareness, feminine strength, glowed hot and bright in her dangerous eyes. Teasing him, she slowly reached under her skirt and slid her black panties off her legs. Then she smiled.
It was the smile that did it.
Moving so quickly she yelped, he grabbed her up, turned to sit, and slowly, so slowly, lowered her onto his raging dick. She breathed out and yanked his shirt over his head; he rumbled with pleasure when her palms met his pecs.
No way would he go for easy and gentle right now. Later. Much later. Right now, he was burning for her. Her tight body wrapped around him, so much heat, so much grip. Grasping her hips, he lifted her, and then plunged her back down.
Pleasure sparked along his entire shaft. He dropped his head to her neck, nipping.
Nothing felt as good as this moment—as this woman taking him, milking him. His balls drew tight against the base of his cock. She gave a hungry moan and arched.
He yanked her up and back down, snarling at the dark pleasure he felt being so deep inside her. For two heartbeats, he forced himself to stop, to remain still. To just feel.
Her sex clenched him, vibrating around his shaft, rippling over him. “I’d give anything to stay inside you forever—just you and me, feeling you come over and over again, Sunshine,” he murmured against her skin.
A long, winding shiver moved up her spine. She whispered his name against his neck as she lifted up and shoved back down.
His hands tightened on her hips, and he set a furious rhythm. Harder, faster, blinding strokes slammed her against him, his thrusts deep and sure. A roaring filled his ears. Heat clawed down his spine to flare in his balls.
She stiffened, crying his name, her internal walls gripping him like a vise. He exploded, lightening flashing through him. Deep, violent spurts tore from him as he held her close.
Finally he relaxed, his knees going weak. His face dropped to the haven where her neck met her shoulder. She panted and huddled against him, her heart beating so rapidly he could feel it in his chest.
God. There was no way he could let her go.
Chapter Sixteen
The week sped by as Sophie finished the design for Willa’s Garden to the council’s satisfaction. Jake won his local trial and was asked to consult on a trial in D.C. He’d called on his way to the airport to let her know.
Pleasure had filled her that he’d checked in with her before leaving. Just like they were a couple. And during that week, it seemed as if they were. Quick lunches, a few dinners around his hectic schedule, with a hot, hungry cowboy taking her to new heights in his bed afterward. Man, she was lost.
Without Jake around, Sophie used the time to think instead of sleep. She was sketching the porch from the swing one morning when her phone rang.
“How’s my favorite girl?” Her uncle’s gruff voice charmed through the line.
“Uncle Nathan! How are you?”
“I’m fine. Just got word—your commissioners denied the development and golf course.”
Defeat slumped her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” Would they go bankrupt now? Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to be furious with Jake, but if what he said was true, she couldn’t blame him for exposing the group. Though he certainly hadn’t needed to use her to do it.
“Not your problem, sweetheart. Had an interesting phone call from a Jake Lodge, however.”
“Really?” Suspicion laced her tone.
“Offered to buy your design for a fifty-acre parcel next to some casino.”
“You’re joking.” Sophie kicked the wooden floor so the swing started to move.
“Nope. Of course it’ll have to be reconfigured for a different space. He also said that your staying on was a condition of the sale, however.”
“Son of a bitch.” Her temper ignited until her throat closed. Sure, she had feelings for the lawyer, but nobody manipulated her.
“Excuse me?” Her uncle chuckled. “I thought you’d be pleased.”
“What? Pleased that he’s trying to run my life? Trying to keep me here? It isn’t bad enough that his mother has given me an art showing, now he’s going to buy my services? I don’t think so.” She kicked the floor harder. It was only because she might be pregnant. And damn, if that didn’t hurt. He had been more than happy with a short fling before the damn condom broke.
“What art showing?”
Sophie told her uncle in great detail about the showing, pausing once and again to kick the floor. The swing complained with a soft squeal.
“Wow, Soph. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”
“What are you talking about? I want to design golf courses.”
“You like rendering the designs for golf courses. Your favorite part begins when you pull out the colored pencils.”
“So?”
“So, why not give the art a shot?” he asked.
Dread filled her. “Are you firing me?”
“Of course not. But I want you to be happy. I’ll adore you no matter what you do for a living.”
Warmth for her uncle filled her chest. He’d always been there for her. He knew how much she wanted to paint—to be a real artist. But she wouldn’t be bullied into it by Jake Lodge, who only wanted to keep his possible kid close. “It’s my decision on what I do for a living, and nobody is going to railroad me into a career. Any career.” The term so there echoed in the silence.
“Like your mother?”
“Uncle Nathan—”
“Say the word and you’ll have a plane ticket waiting for you at the airline counter. I’ll bring you home immediately if you want,” Nathan said.
Sophie stopped swinging. If staying in town would save her uncle’s company, she’d suck it up and do it. “Are we going bankrupt?”
He sighed. “No. Well, I don’t think so. But that’s not something for you to worry about, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Want me to send you a ticket home?”
“Thanks, but I have some business to take care of here first.” Then she would make her own decisions—without any interference.
“Call me if you need me.” He clicked off.
Sophie pushed back from the porch swing just as a blue Toyota Sequoia rumbled to a stop behind her Jeep.
Leila waved from the backseat’s open window. “We came to take you to lunch. And to see your surprise.”
“Hop in.” Loni reached across the front seat and pushed open the passenger door.
Sophie wavered at the top of the porch stairs.
“Come on. You get a surprise,” Leila called out impatiently. With a grin and a shrug, Sophie bounded down the wide steps and hopped into the large SUV.
“We should’ve called,” Loni said as she drove away. “Sorry about the commissioners.”
“It wasn’t much of a surprise after the hearing, anyway.”
“Now you can design the tribe’s course, right?”
Sophie stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
“I guess that’ll be between you and Jake. “ Loni focused intently on her driving. “Should we do lunch first or go see the surprise?”
“The surprise!” Leila chirped from the backseat. “You are going to love it, Sophie.”
“That’s great.” Sophie turned smiling eyes on the little girl.
“Are you and Daddy getting married?” Wise charcoal eyes twinkled.
Loni gasped out a cough. “Uh, Leila, that’s private.” She shot a curious sideways glance at Sophie.
“No, it isn’t. If Sophie marries Daddy, then I get a mama.” Wistfulness filled the girl’s ton
e.
Sophie’s heart splintered. “You and I are friends, no matter what.”
“Oh. So you won’t be my mama.” The girl sniffed.
“I’ll be your friend.”
Leila shrugged, crossing her arms. “That’d be good, too. Though Daddy’s a catch. Somebody else will marry him and be my mama if you don’t.”
Loni smothered a laugh with her hand. “How do you know your daddy’s a catch?”
“Grets’s mom said so last week.”
“Grets’s mom shouldn’t say things like that,” Loni said.
“Well, Grandma? Is Daddy a catch or not?”
“Of course he’s a catch.” Loni rolled her eyes.
“Told you, Sophie.” Leila giggled.
Sophie turned a surprised glance toward Loni when they entered the drive leading to Jake’s house. Loni smiled.
“You could live here. It’s pretty great.” Leila continued her campaign.
The vehicle rolled to a stop before Jake’s expansive home, and Sophie was saved from answering as the little girl jumped out of the Toyota.
“This way.” Loni’s eyes sparkled as she got out of the car and turned toward the stand-alone garage with triple brown doors.
“My surprise is in the garage?” Sophie asked. Leila placed a small hand in hers, and her heart swelled.
“No, upstairs.” The little girl tugged her toward the stairway to the left of the doors then released her to run up and push open the door. Sophie followed at a slower pace with Loni on her heels and gasped as she entered the empty room.
A high-pitched roof and exposed beams gave the shadows angles to play while light filtered in wide windows scattered across all four walls and illuminated the oak floor. Sophie focused on the lone easel set on a drop cloth in the middle of the room.
“Jake always planned to make this into an exercise room, but he uses the gym in town instead. It looks perfect for a studio.” Loni’s voice echoed around them.
“It is perfect,” Sophie breathed, the possibilities entrancing her. “But I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you like it?” Leila asked, her eyes gleaming.
“I love it.” Rolling pastures dotted with horses spread out the back window, mountains rose high and proud out the side, and Mineral Lake stretched out to the left. “But Loni—”
Loni opened her arms. “Looks like a nice place to work on the exhibit for Juliet. The girl really could use a successful launch.”
“She could?”
“She just moved here a few months ago. An exhibit would surely put her in good form. But we hadn’t found the right artist. Until now.”
“I don’t know…” Sophie’s gaze softened on the easel and empty canvas. “I’m shocked Jake would create this for me at his house. I mean, we’re not really dating or anything.” Why would he create something like that for her at his home? She hadn’t decided to do the gallery showing and hadn’t agreed to the tribe’s golf course—as far as he knew, she was returning to San Francisco soon.
“Well, take it up with Jake. Though I believe my boy can be extremely persuasive.” Loni turned for the door and beckoned Leila forward. “Where should we take Sophie for lunch?”
Sophie wasn’t surprised when her cell phone rang. Jake’s deep voice slid over the line like warm honey. “How are things?”
“I’m not sure what to say.” She leaned against the wall in her room.
Silence pounded across the line for a minute. “Say about what?”
“The art studio.”
“What art studio?”
She jerked. “Um, the art studio in the top of your garage?”
He cleared his throat. “There’s an art studio in my garage?”
“Oh, God.” She sank on the bed and yanked a pillow over her face. Jake had no clue. “Your mother and Leila—”
Jake swore. “Aw, shit, Sunshine. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I figured that out,” she mumbled. For a brief time, she’d thought maybe he was considering something permanent. Heat filled her face until her cheeks ached. What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t wanted that anyway—the man was too controlling.
“The town, my mother, they love you.” Jake sighed. “They interfere, but they mean well.”
“I know.” Could the world just open up and swallow her? Please?
“Maybe it’s a good thing. The studio at my place… In case you’re pregnant,” he said slowly.
“I can be pregnant in San Francisco,” she ground out. She threw the pillow across the room.
“A baby needs a father.”
Her embarrassment turned to irritation. “I won’t let you manipulate me—trying to buy my design and everything.”
There was a shuffling and then, “Damn it. I have to go. But I’m not trying to manipulate you.”
“Are, too.”
“You’re impossible. We’ll discuss it as soon as I can call back.” With that, he clicked off.
“Jerk,” Sophie muttered into the empty room.
Sophie finished the designs for Willa’s Garden but neglected to redesign the golf course for the tribe. Jake didn’t call, and she told herself she was happy about that. The last thing she wanted was to fight with him about a baby that probably didn’t exist. Loni and Leila found an excuse each day to drop by and take her to lunch, and one day the three of them even rode horseback to a picnic spot overlooking Loni and Tom’s ranch. Loni patiently related tribal history, probably to nudge her into doing the paintings, while Leila blatantly brought Jake into every conversation, along with not so subtle reminders that if Sophie didn’t snatch him up, somebody would.
Sophie found herself wishing the little girl were hers. To love and protect.
Finally, she just couldn’t deal with her thoughts alone any longer. The voices in her head were starting to argue with one another. She called the one person in town who might understand. “Juliet? How about we meet for lunch?”
Chapter Seventeen
The Dirt Spoon diner smelled of grease, burgers, and home-cooked food. Sophie settled into the worn booth, careful to avoid the rip in the vinyl. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said after they’d ordered.
“I figured you’d want to discuss the art showing.” Juliet smiled and unfolded the paper napkin to place on her lap. Her loose dress and Celtic jewelry made her look like an Irish princess.
Sophie almost agreed—almost took the easy out. But it was time to grow a pair, as her uncle always said. “Actually, I, ah, just wanted to talk… I mean, you’re new to town, so am I, and I don’t really have, I mean, even at home, I don’t have—”
“A lot of friends?” Juliet asked, an understanding smile curving her lips.
Sophie sighed. Yeah, she sounded like a loser. But she’d never connected with people. Her mother had seen to that. “I don’t have many friends at all.”
“Me neither.” Juliet shrugged. “I’m glad you called me.” Her blue eyes lit up. “That took courage.”
More than she knew. “Everyone knows everyone in this town, and it seems like they all know what’s best for everyone else.”
“When somebody gives you directions, they always start with, ‘Turn left by the field where Sam Boseby’s horse died, and then right by the oak tree where Bobby Johnson fell and broke his leg two years ago…’”
Sophie laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Exactly.”
A couple of men in the far booth argued loudly.
Sophie glanced around but couldn’t see them. Then they went quiet. Good.
Juliet sipped from a sweating plastic glass. “Jake is out of town?”
“Yes. He’s consulting on a trial in D.C.” Sophie traced her fingers over the scarred table. “His mom and daughter created a very cool art studio above his garage for me to paint.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Without telling him,” Sophie finished.
Juliet’s eyes widened. She covered her mouth, mirth filling her face.
&
nbsp; “I know.” Heat spiraled into Sophie’s cheeks. “I thanked him on the phone.”
Juliet snorted and dropped her hand. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” Sophie shook her head. “The poor guy had no clue what I was talking about.”
Juliet laughed harder. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This town, I’m telling you. They embrace you and dictate your life. Though that means they like you. It’s nice to belong.”
“I know. But even Jake is trying to push me into staying—and it’s not like he’s made any big declaration of love or anything.” As she said the words, the truth of her hurt slammed home. He wanted her to stay—only if she were pregnant.
Juliet sat back as the waitress delivered their club sandwiches and waited until the girl left. “Have you declared anything?”
Sophie stilled in bringing her drink to her mouth. “Um, well—”
“That’s what I thought.” Juliet took a bite and then swallowed. “Those Lodge men.”
“Speaking of whom. What’s up with you and the sheriff?”
Juliet flushed a pretty pink. “Nothing. I mean, he’s overbearing, bossy, and always around.”
“I think you’re protesting too much.” Sophie chuckled.
“No kidding.” Juliet quirked her lip. “But he’s my landlord, so I have to get along with him.”
“Your landlord?” Sophie took a sip of water.
“Yes. The Lodge-Freeze families own more real estate than you’d believe.” Juliet sighed.
That must’ve been what Dawn meant by family holdings. “Must be nice.” Sophie grinned. “Who knows, maybe I’ll sell a painting someday and then, ah, diversify.”
“Speaking of which, I saw how your eyes lit up about the art showing.”
Sophie blew out a breath. “I’d love to have a real art showing. To paint Montana and have people come and actually want to buy my work. It’d be a dream I hadn’t ever thought I’d get the chance to explore.”
“So you’re saying yes.”
Damn it. “I’m saying yes. But I’ll do it on my terms, and some of that may mean I take pictures and then paint in San Francisco.” At home. Even though it no longer felt like home.
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