by Reece Butler
He snorted and looked away. He stared at the wall for a moment and turned back. “To be honest, I never thought about wearing spectacles.”
“I hope I haven’t offended you. I’ve been told I’m too practical sometimes.”
He shook his head, a wry smile playing around his lips. In spite of herself, she felt a stab of interest.
“That is the most rational thing anyone has said about my face since that Johnny Reb tried to kill me.” He flushed and looked away. His glance took in her kitchen and the room beyond. “I admire the courage it took to start this bakery.”
“It wasn’t courage as much as necessity.”
A spark appeared in his eyes and he drew himself up. The suave gentleman was back. “Come, come, Miss Unsworth. Surely you have other options?”
He dropped his eyes to her thick black boots and slowly lifted them up her body. It made her pulse flutter far too fast. She had to open her mouth to breathe. Her nipples, hidden behind a shift, blouse, and apron, hardened into nubs. Her breasts swelled, as did other parts.
“Marriage, for instance.” He waggled his eyebrows knowingly.
“I told you at Christmas that I’ll never marry. If that’s all you want to say, I’ve got work to do.”
He shrugged off her words. “You’ve achieved a lot in a short time.”
She waited, but he didn’t continue. She drew herself up to her full height. “I expected you to add something about a mere woman achieving this.”
“There’s nothing ‘mere’ about a woman. And believe me, Miss Unsworth,” he murmured. “I’m well aware of your womanhood.”
She gulped when he took her right hand, but didn’t pull away. His thick calluses brushed against her thin ones. She allowed him to raise her hand to his mouth, mostly because his expression dared her to complain. Instead of kissing the air over the tips as she expected, he nipped her knuckle, then touched the spot with the tip of his tongue. His touch was far too arousing for her comfort. She packed away the memory. She’d bring it out at night, when her fantasies freed her. In the harsh light of day, she had to push him away.
“If you’re that hungry, I am sure Sophie could find something to feed you—”
“It’s not food I want, and we both know it.”
He growled the words and then curled her fingers into his palm. She swallowed hard. The vein in her neck throbbed. He stepped close and bent as if to whisper in her ear but said nothing. His breath fluttered the loose hair at her nape. She shivered.
“Perhaps we could discuss this hunger? I can see from your reaction to my touch”—he brushed his lips over the vein in her neck—“that you want it as much as I.” She closed her eyes as he nibbled his way to her ear. “Are you not hungry, Miss Unsworth?”
The sound of heavy boots and deep voices came in the door to the street. She couldn’t be found like this! She stepped back and yanked her hand away.
“I’m a cook, and work with food all day.” She forced her voice to sound as chill as the wind sweeping down snow-covered mountains. “Of course I’m not hungry.”
She swept past him into the front display room. He followed her like a caboose behind a train. The room darkened when a large body filled the outside door. Gabriel Downey was so large he had to duck to get in. He immediately pulled his hat off. His smile was so gentle she had to return it.
“Morning, ma’am.”
She coughed to clear her throat. “Mr. Downey. I’m so pleased to see you. Thank you for helping clean my windows and move my stove the other day. I saved some cherry tarts in case you came by, as a thank-you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Gabe’s stomach rumbled through the room. A bit of pink appeared in his cheeks. He fidgeted with his hat, which he held at his waist.
“The tarts are in the kitchen. Just give me a moment.”
“What?” Luke glared at Gabe. “You get cherry tarts and I get a ‘come back on Monday’?”
Chapter Two
That took Mr. Luke Frost down off his high horse! Sarah hid a smile behind her hand as she slipped through the thick door into the kitchen. Unfortunately, just because a man was arrogant and irritating, it didn’t stop her from wanting his touch. She wouldn’t let him have the pleasure of knowing that, however.
Gabe aroused her as well, but in a different way. He was bigger and broader than Luke and, with his brown hair, reminded her of a lumbering bear. But he was kind and gentle. She knew why he held his hat over his belt, and it wasn’t just good manners. She was sure he was built like a stallion. No wonder, as he was six inches past six feet, with large feet and hands.
She loved the way Gabe’s voice, one of the deepest she’d ever heard, vibrated against her body when he held her. It had happened only once, when he carried her from that locked room. Even now her pussy responded to the memory, purring in need and hope. Dreams and fantasies were always better than reality, and they made her want things best forgotten.
Orgasms, in particular.
When a woman experienced her first orgasm, it opened a Pandora’s box of delight. Unfortunately, the rapture could never be forgotten. She’d tried, but her craving for it only increased. Just one man had pleasured her, and that was many months ago. Far too long by the way her pussy and breasts throbbed. She wanted Luke, or Gabe, or Oz in her bed, but how could she get what she craved without the bonds of marriage? Certainly not while she lived in Tanner’s Ford, and she could never leave the wonderful friends she’d made.
She lifted the tin plate of tarts she’d put in the pie safe.
“You harm one hair on Sarah’s head and, partner or not, I’ll grind you into dust.”
Gabe’s voice made her stop behind the door where neither man could see her.
“Why would you think I’d hurt her when I want to marry the woman?” replied Luke. His loud voice easily carried through the gap. “She’s perfect to bear the next generation of Frost sons.”
She pressed her lips together to keep back the words she wanted to hurl at him. Thanks to her bakery, she could be independent. She would easily give up the orgasms a husband might provide, in order to be free.
“Why?”
Gabe spoke quietly, but she heard the demand in his voice. Luke might be the boss of the Circle C, but Gabe had a certain power of his own.
“You mean, in addition to her wide hips and generous breasts?”
She snapped her mouth shut, holding back a gasp at Luke’s insult. She heard a growl from the front room. Feet shuffled on the rough board floor. A grunt was followed by a loud expulsion of air. After a moment she heard a low moan.
“Sarah’s a beautiful woman, if that’s what you meant by your rude words,” said Gabe loudly. “But she’s also smart, sweet, and strong, and she’s determined to make her own way. That’s what you should be wanting in a wife. But no, all you want is someone to provide sons to hang a name on.” Gabe snarled a word that Sarah didn’t catch.
She waited, heart pounding, for Luke’s reply. If she didn’t already think Gabe was a wonderful man, this would have convinced her. It also confirmed her opinion of Luke. He might arouse her, but he was demanding, arrogant, and would try to rule her life. She wanted nothing to do with such a man!
Other than rough breathing, she heard nothing more. She pushed the door fully open with one hip and carried the tarts in. Gabe stared at the floor, absently rubbing his right fist with his left hand. Luke was bent over, holding his stomach with one hand and the edge of the counter with the other.
“Did you hit him?” She looked from Gabe, to Luke, and back.
Gabe shrugged. “He insulted you. I showed him the error of his ways.” The corner of his lip turned up when he looked at his partner.
“Pardon me, Miss Unsworth,” gasped Luke. He slowly stood up, keeping his hand on his stomach. “My dear friend and partner,” he said sarcastically, glaring at Gabe, “decided I said something rude. He took exception to it.”
“What did you say?”
&nb
sp; Luke looked toward Gabe, who crossed his arms and glared back. “I”—he cleared his throat—“I said something about you being well suited for children. I didn’t phrase it particularly well, but I meant it as a compliment.”
A compliment?
Gabe tugged the plate of tarts from her tight grip. He dropped one in his mouth. She smiled when he closed his eyes and moaned. She turned from Gabe’s appreciation to Luke, and her temper rose.
“I heard what you said about wanting to marry me. I told you at Christmas that I’m not interested.”
“Women are fickle creatures and tend to change their mind. When you understand the situation you’ll—”
“I won’t be changing my mind.”
“And I won’t give up.” Luke thrust out his jaw. “I intend to marry you, Sarah. You’re a strong woman, and I mean more than your ability to work hard. As the last of my line, I need strong sons. I will not let the Frost line die out with me. While I admire your determination”—he looked around the room before meeting her eyes in challenge—“this business of yours won’t last more than a week before the town council shuts you down.”
She pressed her fist against her pounding heart. “They won’t stop me.”
“Yes, they will.” He shook his head at her as if chastising a naughty child. “Jennet will be furious that an unmarried woman is operating a business. It’s bad enough that you’re located beside his bank. The fact that this building used to be his will make him livid.”
“I paid for the building and everything else!”
“You don’t understand.” Luke sighed in the same patronizing way as her uncle.
“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand, Mr. Frost. What if you were told that you couldn’t run your ranch because you were the wrong sex? No matter how good your arms, legs, and brain, you were considered incompetent because something swung between your legs. Wouldn’t you be outraged?”
“She’s got a point,” said Gabe mildly.
“Thank you! At least someone understands.” She smiled at Gabe, receiving a wink in reply.
“Town law is decided by those living in Tanner’s Ford.” Luke held up a hand. “That means men of good character who own businesses. I agree that you’re an intelligent woman, fully capable of operating a bakery. You’re a wonderful cook and baker, and Ben says you have a good grasp of business. But it’s obvious you’re not a man.”
“I think there was a compliment in there somewhere,” murmured Gabe.
“I expect John Tanner will speak for you, and Doc Henley, but the sheriff can’t vote. Hugh Jennet will speak against you of course, and so will Orville Rivers. You know the way things are. When the banker and mayor speak, the others follow.”
“Not all of them will vote against me. Smitty likes me, and my baking.”
Luke reached for a tart. He pulled his hand back at Gabe’s warning growl. “Smitty and the others will do whatever they must to keep their own businesses. Face it, Sarah. Once Jennet gets back from Helena, his shrew of a wife will force him to shut down your bakery.”
Ben had warned her, but she’d counted on the town’s greed being greater than their moral outrage. The one time Sarah met Eudora Jennet was in the mercantile. She’d curled up her lip, pulled her skirts back so Sarah wouldn’t contaminate them, and hissed, “Once a whore, always a whore!” It didn’t matter. Nothing did except fighting every step of the way, and winning.
“My bakery will bring lots of business into town,” she informed Luke. “I’ve already got orders for bread, biscuits, and pies from some of the valley ranches. Once the miners find out I’m here, they’ll come to Tanner’s Ford and buy things from the other businesses. Everyone will benefit.”
Luke took a step toward her and winced again. He glared at Gabe, who grinned back and chomped another tart.
“The issue is not your bakery business, Miss Unsworth.” Luke flicked his eyes over her. “It’s not even the fact you’re a woman. You don’t have a husband.”
She jammed her fists on her hips and stomped close to him.
“What has that to do with anything? I can work far better if I don’t have a man demanding I spend my time catering to him.”
Luke looked down his broken nose at her. “Single women are not allowed to own a business in Tanner’s Ford.”
“Ha! Sophie McLeod owns the hotel. Nora Dawes has a dress and millinery shop.”
“Neither Mrs. McLeod or Mrs. Dawes are single, as in unmarried,” drawled Luke. “They are widows who inherited from their husbands. The only reason you could buy this old building is because Ben Elliott signed for you.”
She raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. Ben was a lawyer, a wealthy Elliott, and she trusted him. Even more, she trusted his wife to keep him in line. Florence agreed with her about women’s rights, as did Ben’s outspoken sister, Jessie.
“The reason I asked Mr. Elliott to represent me was to make sure Mr. Jennet wouldn’t know who wished to purchase his assay office. He wouldn’t sell it if he knew it was me.”
Luke pointed his finger at her nose. He didn’t sneer at her, as she expected. She might even have seen a touch of compassion in his expression. But his words made up for it.
“You are a woman and, therefore, not a person under the law. You cannot sign a legal contract.” He straightened and winked. “Except to marry. You’re allowed to sign the register after the ceremony. That would solve your problem about being single.”
He smiled and waggled his eyebrows, giving her an absurd overemphasized leer. His attempt at humoring her, when the issue meant her life, infuriated her. She fisted her hands and gritted her teeth to stop herself from punching or berating him. Doing so would only prove she wasn’t suited as a business owner. Men could punch each other and laugh about it afterwards. If a woman raised her fist, even to defend herself, she was tarred with a very black brush.
“If you marry me, Miss Unsworth, I’ll let you bake all you like.”
She knew he didn’t mean operating her bakery. No, he’d want her tied to the stove at the Circle C ranch. She restrained the urge to kick him in the shin.
“For the last time, Mr. Frost, I will never marry and lose everything to an incompetent husband.”
“Incompetent?” His voice went up so high he had to cough. “Madam, I am not incompetent at anything required of a husband.” His gave her a toe-curling smile and dropped his voice to a husky growl. “All my husbandly parts are in good working order.”
Gabe snorted. “How would you know? You haven’t used them in how many years?”
Luke jerked his head toward his partner. Sarah couldn’t help snickering. She’d learned that few things are worse than insulting a man’s ability in bed. From her limited experience, most of them did little but fumble around and satisfy themselves. The only way they pleasured a woman was by leaving her bed so she could sleep in peace.
“If you don’t wish to lose those tarts, my friend, I suggest you keep your big mouth shut.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Unless you wish me to tell the lady of your vast experience?”
Gabe’s eyes flashed to her. His face reddened before he quickly looked away. Had he done wild things with women, or was it the opposite? He pulled his thigh-length coat closed and cleared his throat.
Oh, yes, Gabe was primed and ready to go. The way her pussy purred eagerly, so was she. After all, she was an experienced woman with a taste for pleasure, and Gabe was a very intriguing, sensual man without much practical knowledge. She had learned about pleasure from the first man at the brothel. He took three long, arousing nights. The rest of her experience was far from pleasant but she’d survived it and now held her head high. Perhaps it was time to repay Gabe for rescuing her by showing him the way to satisfy a woman?
Ever since seeing the Circle C men at Sophie McLeod’s Christmas party, she’d had erotic fantasies about them. She imagined Oscar as a pirate, of course. She saw Luke as a dashing officer who swept her off her feet at a dance. When she fantasized about G
abe, she was an innocent virgin. He took hours to arouse and seduce her before proving that multiple orgasms were his specialty. She hadn’t thought of reversing the situation, until now. Nor had she expected her fantasy to come true.
A smile fought to emerge. Perhaps she wouldn’t dry up like an old stick from lack of decent sex. Gabe looked like he might be amenable to learning, and enjoying, what was possible between a man and woman without a preacher saying words over them.
“It’s not how often you’ve done something,” growled Gabe to Luke. “It’s how much effort you put into it, and how much the lady appreciates that effort.”
Sarah licked her lips. “I’d appreciate some effort,” she murmured, smiling at Gabe.
He gulped at her, eyes wide. He shut his jaw with a snap, put the plate on the display counter, whirled around, and strode out the door to the street. Quick footsteps faded as Luke grabbed the two remaining tarts, one in each hand. He appraised her, nostrils flaring. His eyes relaxed into a lazy bedroom gaze as he ate. Unlike Gabe, who dropped a whole tart in his mouth, Luke nibbled. When he finished, he slowly licked the tips of his fingers. He curled his tongue around and sucked them, one at a time.
It was her turn to gulp. Her pussy, already tingling, buzzed from need. If he could move his tongue that way, he could do wonderful things to her. He smirked knowingly.
“Anytime you wish to receive”—he hesitated as if deciding which word to choose—“effort, just call on the Circle C. We’ll be pleased to prove we know how to find your, ah, cherry pit.”
He swaggered across the room and took her hand. He placed a round, warm object in her palm, still damp from his mouth. He rolled her fingers up around it and once more kissed her knuckles. One last saucy wink and he strolled out the door, whistling.
“Cherry pit?” She opened her hand. “Oh. Pit…clit,” she whispered. A jolt of need made her pussy spasm. She groaned and clutched his suggestive gift. “That’s it. I need a lover. Not Luke. He can’t wait to marry.” She bit her lip. “Sophie overheard Gabe say he hoped to settle down with a good woman one day. If I approach him the right way, he mightn’t be too shy to learn how to please his future wife.”
