by Helen Lacey
But somehow, this felt different.
“Cole...”
She said his name almost on a sigh and his whole body responded—his skin, his blood, the very air in his chest. He felt cocooned, as though in that moment, they were the only two people on the planet. As though nothing and no one would dare intrude. There was only feeling. Only desire and awareness and a hot, burning need to take her into his arms, to kiss her beautiful mouth and feel her tongue roll against his. To have her pressed against him, breasts-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh, and then more. Much more. Everything. To touch every part of her. To feel her beneath him as they came together in the most intimate way.
“Mom?”
A child’s voice cut through his thoughts and Cole dropped his hand and instantly stepped back. Jaye was approaching them, his brace making a now familiar sound as he entered the barn. Cole swallowed hard and glanced toward Ash. She was moving away from him, putting space between them as she turned to face her son.
“Hey, there,” she said to Jaye, who was now at her side and waving a sketch pad in one hand. “Schoolwork all done?”
“Yep,” her son replied and grinned. “I just wanted to show Cole the changes I made to my cart design. It’s gonna be so cool, Mom,” he said, his freckled face beaming. “I mean, when I get to finally make the cart and enter the race.”
Cole couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s tactics and enthusiasm. But Ash wasn’t smiling. She was frowning. And then she glared at him for a moment before she turned her attention back to her son. “We’ve talked about this, Jaye.”
“I know,” the boy said and sighed. “But I really want this, Mom. And Cole could—”
“We’ll discuss this later,” she said, cutting him off gently. “Don’t forget you have your reading homework to do tonight. One whole chapter before bedtime.” She ruffled Jaye’s hair affectionately and looked toward Cole. “Maisy wants to learn to drive.”
Cole’s back straightened. “She’s too young for a learner’s permit.”
“I’m not suggesting she goes driving out on the roads,” she said hotly. “There’s a flat bit of pasture behind the cabins. You can use Uncle Ted’s truck to let her practice. That’s where Ted taught me to drive when I was about her age. I thought it might be a good opportunity for you and Maisy to spend some time together.”
He liked the idea. “Sure. Thanks.”
She smiled but the tension between them was palpable. She was annoyed and wasn’t doing a great job at disguising the fact. She obviously believed he had somehow been influencing her son to work on his soapbox-cart design. Sure, he’d talked to the boy about it, but he hadn’t offered his opinion. Her attitude irritated him. Clearly Ash was adept at handing out parental advice, but wasn’t keen on taking, it and Jaye’s next words seemed to stick to the air between them.
“I’m not a little kid anymore, Mom. And I can do things.”
He watched as Ash’s green eyes suddenly glittered even brighter than usual and she wrapped her arms around her waist. She looked toward her son, then him, and then back to the boy, who was staring at her earnestly. She let out a long breath, turned and walked toward the door. Cole remained where he was, watching her slow amble, feeling the tension emanating from her as though it had a life force of its own, somehow connecting them in a way that startled him. She was upset. Rattled. He knew it. He felt it through to his bones. When she stopped and turned, he stilled, waiting for her to speak. Her chin was high, her eyes wide.
“All right,” she said quietly and looked at her son. “You can enter the race this year.”
Jaye stared at his mother in openmouthed shock. “You mean it? And I can build my very own cart?”
She nodded slightly. “Yes.”
The boy pumped his fist in the air with happiness. “Yay!”
“But there are conditions,” she said, sterner. “Firstly, if Cole can help you, that’s great, but I don’t want you monopolizing all of his time, okay?”
Jaye nodded. “Okay.”
“And secondly,” she said, glancing toward Cole. “You will do exactly what he says—no exceptions. Okay?”
The young boy nodded again, clearly struggling to hide his excitement. “Okay.”
“And thirdly,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. “I can change my mind about this at any time. Agreed?”
Jaye’s head bobbed in agreement. “Yes, Mom. Can I go and tell Uncle Ted and Grandma?”
She nodded. “Sure.” Once Jaye left the barn she turned her attention back to Cole. “Happy?”
Cole forced back the grin he felt. “It’s not my place to—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said and waved an irritated hand. “It’s not your business or your place. You didn’t answer my question.”
Cole shrugged lightly. “I’m happy that Jaye’s happy.”
“I just want him to be safe,” she said quietly. “I want to make sure he’s not going to be singled out because of his disability.”
He nodded. “I know. The race is in two weeks. I’ll still be here then. I’ll make sure he’s kept safe,” he said, realizing the enormity of his promise, but believing it through to his bones. “Can I ask you something?”
Her expression narrowed slightly. “I guess.”
“Why he doesn’t go to school in town?”
She shrugged fractionally. “He did go to the elementary school in town when he was younger. But...”
“But?”
She sighed heavily. “He had a difficult time. He was...you know, bullied...and I couldn’t protect him. So for the last few years he’s been homeschooled.” She swallowed hard and then let out a shallow breath. “It’s...it’s simpler, I suppose. Easier.”
“Easier for who?” he asked, not quite ready to let her off the hook. Cole watched, fascinated as her green eyes suddenly glistened. Then she turned and walked from the barn, her back and shoulders tight. He wondered what the hell had made him ask such a thing, and then wondered why she had changed her mind about Jaye entering the race. And then, realizing he was probably never going to understand women, he got back to work on the truck.
* * *
By dinnertime, Ash was already considering changing her decision. But the look in her son’s eyes a couple of hours earlier had broken down her defenses. Strangely, as Jaye spoke, it was Cole’s words from the day before that had bombarded her thoughts.
If you keep telling him that he can’t, one day he might just believe you.
The very idea that she might be somehow hurting her son by keeping him from entering the race had wounded her deep down. Jaye was the most important person in her life and she’d always believed she knew what he needed. And the look in his eyes had told her loud and clear—he needed this. As much as the idea terrified her.
And then Cole’s question about Jaye’s schooling had rocked her foundations. The why had always seemed so obvious. So she could keep him close. Keep him safe.
“Everything all right, Ash?”
Her mother’s voice cut through her thoughts. She looked up and saw her mother watching her from behind the kitchen counter. Ash met Nancy’s gaze and sighed. “Do you think I’m an overprotective parent?”
“Yes,” Nancy replied. “But with the best intentions. You get that from your father, I’m sure. He could never bear to let you out of his sight.”
Ash tossed the salad she’d made. “Until he left.”
“He left me,” Nancy said quietly. “Not you.”
“He left us both,” Ash said and ignored the age-old pain tightening her chest. “Can you take this into the dining room?”
“Sure. I need to get another two plates,” her mother said and grabbed china from the dresser in the corner. “Cole and Maisy are joining us. I invited them for dinner.”
Ash’s gaze sharpened. “Oh, oka
y.”
“Cole has asked me to help with Maisy’s lessons while they’re here,” Nancy said and smiled. “To make sure she keeps up with the work. You know, it looks like he’s getting the hang of this being-a-father thing.”
“I hope so,” Ash replied and flipped the lid off the potato salad she’d made earlier.
“Jaye told me about the race,” her mother said. “He’s very excited. It was a good call.”
“One I hope I don’t come to regret.”
“Being a parent is never an exact science,” Nancy reminded her. “Remember when you were eight and wanted that nasty little red pony that belonged to the Culhanes?”
The Culhane ranch was the biggest in the county and Ash had gone to school with several of the Culhane brothers, including Hank, who was the Cedar River police chief and his twin, Joss, the local mechanic. The eldest brother, Mitch, ran the ranch adjoining hers. Ash had always liked the Culhanes and Hank was great to work for.
“I loved that pony.”
“Your father was terrified every time you went near the thing,” Nancy said, almost as though she was talking to herself. “Okay, let’s get this dinner on the table.”
Once her mother left the room Ash let out a long breath and continued preparing dinner. She knew Nancy didn’t mean to upset her. Her mother was a kind, generous person, but sometimes she didn’t have a filter for saying exactly what she was thinking. Specifically, conversations about Ash’s father. Or stepfather. Both men had been important to Ash...and both had walked out. Talking about them just brought back a whole lot of painful memories she could do without.
“Need any help?”
Cole’s voice. It’s rich, deep timbre was becoming all too familiar to her. Ash turned and spotted him by the doorway. In worn jeans and a dark shirt, he looked effortlessly attractive and her pulse quickened instantly. She managed a smile. “Can you carve a ham?”
He nodded. “Like a pro.”
Ash wasn’t sure she believed him, but she handed him the carving knife and fork as he moved into the room and came behind the counter. “Thin slices. No chunks.”
“Am I likely to get arrested if I mess it up?”
“Maybe,” she said and raised a brow. “I may let you off with a warning, being your first offense.”
He clanged the utensils. “Bring on the ham.”
Ash pulled the smoked meat from the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. “Remember, slice it thinly.”
“Hard taskmaster,” he muttered and set to work on the leg. After a moment, he spoke again. “But, since I invited myself to dinner I won’t complain about the work conditions.”
“I thought my mother invited you?”
He shrugged lightly. “What were you thinking about when I came into the room just before?”
“My father.”
He glanced sideways, looking surprised by her reply. Ash was surprised, too. She never spoke about her father. To anyone. Not ever. It was too hard. Too painful.
“Where is he?”
More questions. But she still answered. “He left when I was ten,” she said quietly, folding table napkins to keep her hands busy.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “He was an artist. Something of a free spirit. He never really fit in here on the ranch. He wanted to paint instead of wrangling the cattle or fixing fences. There were a lot of arguments. A lot of tears. So, he and my mom got divorced and he left.”
“Do you still see him?”
“No. He lives in Texas. He got married again and had another family. I talk to him on the phone about once a year.”
“So, that’s not him with you in the picture on the mantel in the living room? The guy in the uniform?”
She shook her head. “That’s my stepdad, Alonzo. He was a police officer. Nancy married him when I was twelve. And then divorced him when I was fifteen. There were more arguments and more tears in that relationship, too.” She didn’t wait for him to have an opinion and spoke again. “My mother is a serial monogamist. Two broken marriages. Countless broken hearts. It was a pattern I promised myself I wouldn’t follow.”
“Is that why you didn’t marry Jaye’s father?” he asked, not looking at her as he carved the ham.
“No,” she replied softly. “I didn’t marry Pete because he walked out when Jaye was three years old.”
He glanced sideways. “After the accident?”
She stilled. “Yes.”
“Jaye talked to me about it,” Cole explained. “He said he was two and a half when it happened.”
“That’s right,” she replied. “He wandered off from the yard and got lost.” She took a breath, feeling the memory through to her bones. “He fell into an old mine shaft and was stuck down there for eighteen hours. Search-and-rescue finally found him and when he was pulled out he had serious injuries. His leg was broken in three places and he had a punctured lung. Even after surgery the doctors thought he might lose his leg. But he didn’t,” she said and took a breath, remembering those days as though they were yesterday. “He was a fighter and pulled through. Afterward there were more surgeries and physical therapy and one specialist doctor after another. Because his injured leg is held together with metal plates and screws he needs the brace to balance out the fact that it’s shorter than the other.”
“And Pete?” he inquired, not looking at her.
“He left. He couldn’t handle it.” She took a long, unsteady breath. “He was meant to be looking after Jaye that morning...but instead he’d been tinkering with his motorcycle and then took it for a ride and forgot about his son. He left because he couldn’t bear the shame of what he’d done.”
“You couldn’t forgive him?”
She shook her head. “I think I was so angry at first, and then so focused on Jaye getting well, I didn’t have any energy left for forgiveness. By then, it was too late. Our wedding was postponed and then one day he packed his bag, got on his motorcycle and drove off. And I haven’t seen him since.”
“So basically, he was irresponsible and weak?”
“Yes,” she agreed.
Cole placed the carving knife on the bench and turned toward her, his hip rested against the counter. “You know, not all men are tarred the same way.”
“I know that.”
“Are you sure?”
She shrugged lightly, feeling awareness build between them. “My father, stepfather and fiancé all bailed—maybe that has left me a little...cynical.”
He chuckled softly. “Perhaps cynicism is a rite of passage for those of us with a history of failed relationships.”
Ash’s brows rose sharply. “You’ve had more than one?”
“One divorce,” he replied. “More meaningless encounters than I care to remember.”
His words jarred her and Ash didn’t want to wonder why. Who Cole slept with was none of her business. Still, the discomfort lingered and she asked the question teetering on the edge of her tongue. “Like Deanna?”
He nodded. “The truth is, I can barely recall what she looked like. Pretty, blond, blue eyes. That’s all I remember about the woman I have a child with.”
“You were young,” she said and lifted one shoulder. “And most people sow oats at that age.”
“But not you?” he asked, his eyes darkening.
Ash’s skin prickled. “I had a child, a job and a ranch to run when I was that age. Sowing oats wasn’t on my radar.”
He nodded a little. “You know, having a kid changes things. And priorities. It made me realize what kind of life I want to lead and the kind of example I need to be for my daughter. I don’t want Maisy to think it’s okay to jump from bed to bed. Which is why I haven’t been on a date in over six months.” He gave a rueful grin. “Or anything else.”
Ash stilled and met hi
s gaze. And then laughed softly when she remembered how long it had been since she’d shared any kind of intimacy with a man. “You make that sound like an eternity.”
His blue eyes glittered brilliantly. “It sure feels like it right at this moment.”
His words were inflammatory. Flirtatious. Hot. Sexy. Everything she should ignore. If she had any sense. Which she was suddenly all out of. In a few days, he’d somehow turned her world upside down. Desire, raw and untamed and wildly galloping out of control, surged through her blood. Ash couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t control it. Couldn’t see a way to ignore it and experienced an intense tug of attraction and longing that made her move closer, forgetting every lick of good sense she possessed. Forgetting the rules she’d set out for her life. And the handbook she’d written in her head about getting involved with someone like Cole—a man who lived in another state and who was the parent of a child she was supposed to be helping. She never did this. She never broke the rules. She was always in complete control of her life and her good sense.
Until Cole had walked into her life.
His eyes had darkened, his jaw was tight, his hand steady as he touched her skin. There was no denying it, no fighting it, even if she wanted to.
“Oh, hell,” she whispered as his hand moved to her nape and edged her closer. “You’re going to kiss me.”
“Yeah,” he said, threading fingers through her hair and gently anchoring her head back. “I am.”
“This is crazy.”
“Totally,” he said, his voice raspy. “But I’m still going to do it. Maybe you should make a run for it?”
She should. “Okay.”
“Or not,” he said and groaned low in his throat.
Ash closed her eyes and took a breath. And waited. And finally, when the waiting was over and his mouth touched hers, she was lost, dragged into a vortex of feeling so intense she grabbed his arms for support as her knees weakened. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers, his breath sharp as he slanted his mouth across hers and coaxed her lips apart. She opened her mouth and let him inside, felt his tongue slide along hers and drug her senses with a heady, erotic expertise that was mind-numbing.
