She was shy; he’d never met a stranger.
She saw the world as a place to be taken seriously and approached with caution; he saw it as a playground.
And perhaps, for him, it had been.
After all, Austin had been born a McKettrick, part of a large and confident clan, with land and money and a proud family history.
Paige had been the third daughter of a poor school-teacher. Her own mother hadn’t cared enough about her or Libby or Julie, or all three of them put together, to stick around and be a regular mom.
They’d had some heartfelt talks, back then during high school and the summer after graduation. Austin worried that they were moving too fast, that they were in too deep. He wanted to follow the rodeo for a while, instead of going to college, and he’d had a few go-rounds with his folks over that. Jim and Sally McKettrick had thought Austin and Paige were too serious and, God knew, they’d been right.
Paige, naive and starry-eyed, had firmly believed that love conquered all. She would go to nursing school. Austin could follow the rodeo during the season. Somehow, they’d make it work.
It wasn’t to be.
Paige closed her eyes, remembering how shattered she’d been. Her face was wet, and Austin smoothed away her tears with the sides of his thumbs. His blue eyes glowed in the combination of shadow and moonlight.
“If you’ve got to cry, Paige,” he murmured gruffly, “then you go right ahead. I just don’t want you crying over me—not ever again.”
With her broken heart and her fractured ankle and all the rest of the physical and emotional damage, Paige felt a lot like Molly in those moments. She craved Austin’s touch, strong and at the same time, heartrendingly gentle.
“You said—” She paused, bit her lower lip. “You said if we were going to make love tonight, it would have to be my choice—”
He grinned. “That’s what I said, all right.”
“Make love to me, Austin.”
He just looked at her, without speaking, for so long that Paige began to worry that he’d changed his mind. That he didn’t want her after all.
But then he lowered his head, and their mouths joined, and then the kiss deepened until heat blazed through Paige like fire from a flame thrower.
This was the kiss of a man, not a boy.
And it left Paige so shaken that she could only lie there, gasping and yet wanting more, when it ended.
“If you’re going to change your mind,” Austin told her solemnly, “then you’d better be quick about it. Because I’m fixing to have you, lady, and once the ride begins, it won’t be over ’til it’s over.”
A sweet tingle of anticipation sparked inside Paige. She answered by plunging her fingers into his shower-damp hair, craning her neck to nibble at his mouth.
Austin groaned, and then stretched, reaching across her, and she heard the drawer of the nightstand open. Dazed, she remembered the box of condoms.
“What about your foot?” he asked after some fumbling on his part and a telltale snapping sound.
Paige was breathless, but she managed a giggle. “I didn’t think we’d be using my foot,” she said.
He laughed, and he kissed her, gently at first, and then with power, with need, with a passion that was almost a consummation in itself.
The kissing went on for a while—just that made Paige feel as though she might climax—but then Austin got down to business, so to speak.
He slid her nightshirt up and off, over her head. Threw it aside. He kissed her neck, nibbled at her earlobes, traced the ridges of her collarbones with the tip of his tongue. When he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, she arched her back and cried out, glorying in the sensations as he suckled.
Austin took his sweet time, pleasuring Paige. He tasted and teased, he whispered and tempted. Time and again, he brought her to the verge of satisfaction, then left her trembling on the precipice. Each time she fell away moaning, having come so very close.
Finally, when she could bear the waiting no longer, when not having him inside her would have been like holding her breath for too long, she pleaded and her hips rose to meet his and in a single masterful stroke, he took her.
The pleasure, already almost beyond her tolerance, grew and grew. With every plunge of his hips, he possessed her more thoroughly, and then more thoroughly still. Their bodies rocked together, slowed, rocked again. Paige began to fidget and fret, frantic in her need, but Austin’s self-control was formidable. At one point, he even withdrew entirely, though he continued to caress every part of her with his hands.
She tossed her head from side to side on the pillow, repeating his name over and over again, pleading.
After a very long time, Austin finally relented. He moved his hands beneath her buttocks and raised her high to receive the hardest, deepest thrust yet.
She came apart in his arms, crying out his name, her body flexing and buckling like a thin cable in a high wind.
Not long afterward, Austin let himself go. With a hoarse shout, he conquered her and surrendered to her, both at the same time.
She quivered, arched beneath him, still straining as the seemingly endless orgasm clenched within her, relaxed, clenched again. Finally, exhausted, sated, jubilant, she sank into the mattress, gasping for breath.
Austin eased down beside her, his own breath coming hard, sawing in and out of his lungs.
They were still for a while, except for the violent struggle for air, and then Austin got out of bed, rolling to his feet, disappearing into the darkness.
He was back within a couple of minutes. “Close your eyes,” he said. “I’m about to turn on the light.”
Paige pulled the covers over her head. “Why?” she complained, her voice muffled. She could see a dim, golden glow through the weave of the sheets and the blanket and the bedspread. “Why do we need a light?”
“Because I want to find my sweatpants,” Austin said.
Paige stuck her head out, blinking at him owlishly. “Well, that’s romantic,” she said.
He grinned. “It was a trick,” he said, pulling back the covers. Except for her cast, which hardly counted as clothing, Paige was completely naked—and in full view.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Paige tugged at the covers. “It’s cold,” she protested.
“So I see,” he agreed, touching one of her rock-hard nipples. But then he let her pull the blankets up.
“You did use a condom, right?” she asked.
“Talk about romantic,” he teased. Then he produced the empty wrapper, showed it to her.
Well-being suffused Paige. She stretched. “Why do you need sweatpants?” she asked.
“I’m headed out to the barn to check on Molly and the other horses,” he said. “Baby, it’s cold outside, and pants are bound to come in handy.”
“I’m going with you,” Paige said, sitting up.
Austin eased her back down. “No,” he said. “You’re not.”
“But what if—”
He kissed her forehead. “Shep will look out for me,” he said, as the faithful dog rose and stretched, instantly alert.
Paige imagined all sorts of things happening while Austin was out of her sight, and none of them were good.
Finally, when she could stand the waiting no longer, she got up, found her nightshirt and pulled it back on, used the crutches to get to and from the bathroom and was just about to head for the barn when Austin came back.
They met in the kitchen.
Seeing her, Austin laughed and shook his head.
He looked fairly comical himself, Paige thought, taking in his work boots, those gray sweatpants he’d worn to bed and the misbuttoned flannel shirt beneath his denim jacket.
“Going somewhere?” he asked mildly, arms folded, one eyebrow quirked up a little.
Paige blushed. “I was getting hungry,” she lied.
Austin laughed again. “Why can’t you just admit that you were worried about me?”
“Okay,�
�� Paige allowed. “I was worried about you.”
“And that you were lusting after my body.”
“You’re pushing it, McKettrick.”
Austin stood his ground, looking smug. “Are you or are you not lusting after my body?”
Paige’s cheeks ached as the heat intensified. “Okay,” she said. “I might be lusting after your body. A little.”
He came to her then, slipped his arms around her waist, neatly bypassing the crutches. “Only a little?” he muttered. “I’m going to have to see what I can do about that.”
She smiled a sultry smile, because he was back in the house, because he was safe, because he was about to do his damnedest to make her want him a lot, not just a little.
“I’ll be interested to see what your strategy is,” she said.
Austin cupped her face in his hands, smiled down into her eyes. “You’re going to be way too busy,” he murmured, about to kiss her, “to be concerned with my…strategy.”
“Is that so?”
He turned her around, pointed her in the direction of the guest quarters, but gently, and slowly, because she had to wield the crutches.
As turned-on as Paige was, the care Austin took moved her deeply, made her throat ache and her nose burn.
Shep, as loyal as ever, came along, settled himself on the hooked rug in front of the bureau once they’d reached the bedroom and sank back to sleep.
“Molly was all right?” Paige asked, standing next to the bed.
Austin took the crutches from her, one by one, supporting her easily the whole time with a hand under her elbow.
“Molly,” he replied very slowly, “is just fine. All the horses are fine.”
Paige trembled with anticipation, with need, a little daunted because she knew the lovemaking would be more strenuous this time. There would be more foreplay, for one thing, and Austin wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d driven her crazy.
Still holding her up, Austin tugged the nightshirt up—and up. And off.
He eased Paige down onto the mattress, sideways this time, with her legs dangling. And then he knelt between her thighs. Lightly, he kissed her right knee, and then her left. Paige, knowing what was about to happen, groaned his name.
He leaned over and kissed the soft flesh of her belly. “Tell me what you want,” he said.
Paige told him exactly what she wanted.
And she got it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT HAD BEEN nearly a week since Austin and Paige had come to terms and decided maybe they’d try again. Or maybe not.
The private cemetery on the Silver Spur was a peaceful place, set high on a ridge overlooking miles of McKettrick land. There were oak trees all around, and stone benches scattered among the graves.
Austin took off his hat as he approached the fancy marble marker with an intricate frieze of running horses chiseled above the inscriptions.
James Angus McKettrick. Sally Fletcher McKettrick. There were dates underneath, bridging the too-short span of their lives.
He knew his folks weren’t hanging around that graveyard, nor were any of the other departed family members, but sometimes it comforted him, coming here. Not that he’d visited in a long time, because he hadn’t.
High up in the sky, a hawk wheeled in a wide, graceful circle, and Austin paused to watch it for a few moments before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the graves, two among some fifty or sixty final resting places.
“I guess you most likely already know this,” he told his mom and dad quietly, “but I need to tell you anyhow.” Again, he paused. Swallowed hard. Shep, who’d come along for the ride, bouncing along on the seat of one of the ranch work trucks, sat down in the grass beside Austin and leaned heavily against his leg. “There are a few things I’d undo in my life if I had the chance, and one of them is talking you two into driving to Lubbock to watch me ride in that rodeo instead of heading for Hawaii, like you planned on doing.” He choked up then, had to stop and shut his eyes until the burning let up a little. “Right or wrong, though, feeling bad and wishing things had been different won’t change what happened. And I’ve been feeling real bad, for a long time.”
Shep made a soft sound, part whimper and part yip.
“I figure it’s time to put all that aside,” Austin went on, “as much as I can anyway, and get on with things.”
He looked up at the brittle-blue sky again, took it in from horizon to horizon, and it seemed to fill his chest and ache there, as though he’d breathed it in somehow.
They’d made love every chance they got, he and Paige, and they’d done a lot of talking, too, but so far the most important words had yet to be said, by either one.
Austin didn’t have any doubt whatsoever that he loved Paige Remington.
As a boy, he’d loved her in the best way he knew how—by driving her off before they wound up hog-tied and hating each other.
As a man, he wasn’t sure how to go about loving Paige at all, beyond pleasing her physically, of course. That was an easy matter, because Paige was all woman, ripe and responsive, fiercely generous in the giving and in the taking.
She was a lot of other things, too, though.
Paige was smart and sassy, with plans and goals and plenty of opinions, many of which directly opposed his own. She had that house in town, and the job she meant to take at the clinic in Blue River, when it finally opened up, and she flat-out didn’t need him or any other man to do just fine for herself, thank you—any more than Libby needed Tate that way, or Julie, Garrett.
None of the Remington women needed their men.
But wanting was another thing.
Austin squared his shoulders. “I plan on asking Paige Remington to marry me,” he said. “And I don’t have any idea what she’ll say. Maybe yes, maybe no. She’s pretty bullheaded, if you recall.” He stopped, grinned. “Guess she’d have to go some to beat me when it comes to bullheaded, though,” he admitted. “Anyway, that’s what I wanted to tell you. That after all this time, I still love that woman so much it scares me, and that I’m real sorry for the other part, too. The accident, when you were coming back from the rodeo, I mean.”
Again, his throat closed up tight.
He knew Jim and Sally McKettrick would never have held that accident, or anything else, against him. They’d been steadfast, loving parents, both of them, but it was always understood that their first commitment was to each other. Instead of making Tate, Garrett and Austin feel shut out, the solidarity of the elder McKettricks had engendered a quiet and unshakable sense of security in their children.
Austin stood still for a while, remembering, appreciating and, yes, missing his mom and dad. Finally, he nodded a farewell, turned and walked away, putting his hat back on as he went. Shep, eager for whatever might be next on the agenda, pranced along beside him. Now that Doc had replaced the bandage on his hind leg with an even smaller one, that dog was as spry as a pup.
When they got to the pickup—Austin still hadn’t found the time to buy himself a rig to replace his old truck, now back from the repair shop and parked in one of the sheds alongside some old-time haying equipment—he went around to the passenger side and opened the door.
Shep needed only a little boost to scramble inside as far as the floor, and he made it onto the seat all on his own.
Austin went around to the driver’s side, but before he climbed behind the wheel, he turned to look back at the cemetery.
His parents and grandparents and great-grandparents were all buried there, starting with Clay McKettrick and his wife. In that place, the generations doubled back on each other and created a sort of circle, because, of course, even his great-grandparents had been somebody’s children, once. Every resident had been a McKettrick, by birth or adoption or by marriage.
Austin sat for a few moments before he started up the truck. Paige was waiting for him back at the house, and probably getting fidgety—the longer she had to wear that cast, the harder she was to get along wi
th. He enjoyed trying, though. There were plenty of fireworks, but that only made the making-up more fun.
Tonight’s event was a big one—the final performance of Julie’s high school musical, which had been a spectacular success by Blue River standards, and the whole family was fixing to gussy up and attend.
Still, Austin took a moment to reflect a little. Someday, he’d be laid to rest in that cemetery, like the rest of his Texas kin. He just hoped he’d have plenty of time to live and love before that inevitable day came. He wanted to herd cattle and argue with his brothers and make babies with Paige.
He wanted to see those babies grow up to fall in love, marry and have babies of their own.
He wanted to dance with Audrey and Ava on their wedding days, and shake Calvin’s hand when the boy genius graduated from some fancy college with top honors. He was bound to do big things, and the twins, too.
First, though, before Austin could begin living his way through the life he was planning, he’d have to ask Paige if she’d have him for a husband. As much as she enjoyed tangling the sheets with him, it might take some persuading to convince her to make it legal and binding.
It was, after all, one thing to love a person—and Austin was pretty sure Paige loved him, just as he loved her—but it was another to trust someone. Without trust, love wasn’t going to be enough for the long haul, no matter how passionate it was, and Austin wasn’t willing to settle for anything less than a lifetime with Paige.
He sighed. He’d ask her. If she said no, he’d wait a while and then ask her again. Eventually, she’d come around.
He shifted the truck into gear and gave it some gas. As he drove down the cemetery hill, Austin could see the oil field, now staffed with security guards, in the distance, along with the main house and the barn, the old Ruiz place, where Tate and Libby had lived with the twins until recently, and the staff trailers standing along one side of the winding creek.
It all looked familiar and, at the same time, different. Of course, the ranch hadn’t changed all that much, but he had.
McKettricks of Texas: Austin Page 28
