Beneath the Stetson

by Janice Maynard

  Suddenly, the frosted-glass shower door opened and Gil’s big body appeared in the opening. “Room for one more?”

  Nine

  Gil caught the play of emotions that skittered across his lover’s face. Surprised pleasure. Shy embarrassment. Wary uncertainty.

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  There was no of course about any of this. He and Bailey were breaking new ground, and he sensed that she had gotten cold feet in more ways than one. Giving her a moment to adjust to his presence, he took the soap and turned his back as he washed himself. His sex was hard and ready, but he wouldn’t rush her. This was too important.

  When he felt two hands on his back, rubbing his soap-slicked skin, he closed his eyes and smiled. “That feels good,” he groaned, resting his head against the wall, feeling the hot, stinging spray pound his skin.

  Bailey’s arms encircled his waist from behind. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt the press of her soft breasts on his back. “I was thinking about going home now,” she said.

  Gil jerked in shock and spun to face her, nearly depositing both of them on the slippery floor. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Her eyes were huge. She shrugged helplessly. “You have employees and obligations. Tomorrow morning things will be different.”

  “Different, how?” His temper simmered.

  “You know...weird.”

  He ran a finger down her nose and shook his head with a sigh. “Why do women have to be so complicated?” He turned off the water and pulled her into his arms, deliberately pressing his erection against the notch where her legs met.

  “Life is complicated. I’m pretty simple.”

  He felt her shiver. “As much as I’d like to debate that last point, I think I need to warm you up. Put on my robe and I’ll build a fire.”

  As they both dried off, he tried not to look at her, but it was like telling sailors not to gaze at sirens on the rocks. His gaze tracked her every graceful movement. The moment when she shrouded her nude form in his enveloping robe was a major disappointment.

  The fireplace in his bedroom was original to the house and, like the other three scattered throughout his home, cost a fortune to insure. He rarely took the time to use this one, because many nights he was late coming to bed.

  Now, though, he was glad of the ambience.

  In his peripheral vision he was aware of Bailey climbing back into bed and huddling under the covers. In addition to growing up on a ranch, Gil had been a Boy Scout, so he soon had a roaring blaze that popped and crackled and began to fill the room with cozy warmth.

  He rose from a squatting position and found her watching him, unmistakable arousal in her eyes. Her lips parted. Her breath came quickly. Men were rarely as modest as women, so it gave him not a second’s pause to stride toward the bed, naked and determined. She couldn’t hide what she was feeling. Not now.

  When he scooted in beside her, she squawked as his cold feet made contact with her legs. He dragged her close, spooning her and kissing the nape of her neck. “I’m not letting you leave, Bailey. So get that out of your head. If you’re worried about waking up tomorrow morning, perhaps I’ll keep you up all night so it won’t be an issue.” He shuddered as he thought of the possibilities. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

  She laughed softly, wriggling onto her side so she could face him. “You don’t lack confidence, do you?” Reaching out, she ran her thumb over his bottom lip. Which seemed to Gil like an open invitation to nibble the tip of her finger. He sucked it into his mouth and felt the pull in his groin.

  Breathing hard as he pulled back, he brushed aside the lapel of the robe she wore, baring her breasts. “It’s not confidence if it’s a fact. Every time I get near you, I get hard.”

  “Gil!”

  He nuzzled her nose. “What, Bailey?”

  She shook her head, surveying him with a slight smile. “I never knew you could be this way.”

  “I’m guessing you saw me as an uptight, judgmental, obstructive pain in the ass.”

  The smile broadened. “You said it, not me. But that’s not all. I knew you were a gorgeous man and a loving father, so that balanced out your less stellar qualities.”

  “I’m sorry I made your job difficult.”

  “You’re hardly the first. I’m rarely a popular person.”

  “I can’t believe that. Criminals probably line up for the opportunity to be alone with you in a tiny interrogation room.”

  “You’ve been watching too many cop shows on television. I do a lot behind the scenes, but it’s rarely glamorous.”

  He stroked her hair from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re here tonight,” he said, deadly serious.

  Her gaze searched his. “Me, too.”

  This time, he was clearheaded, but no less hungry. He retrieved protection, rolled it on, and returned to her side. Slowly, wanting to draw out the moment, he moved over her and into her. Bailey lifted her hips and took him deep, her wide-eyed gaze holding mysteries he was unable to fathom. Did she feel the earth move? Was she already thinking about leaving him tomorrow?

  The warm, tight clasp of her flesh on his made him woozy. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the lazy slide in and out. Bailey tried to urge him on with incoherent pleas. But he was set on a course that was as immovable and inexorable as the tides. What had started out as something of a one-night stand was shifting and changing. His brain shied away from the implications, even as he grappled with his need for her.

  He had a son to consider. And a home in Royal. But the woman beneath him, her body soft and yet strong, had bewitched him. How could he go on with life as usual, knowing what he was giving up?

  She was no happy homemaker in apron and pearls. Bailey was a competent career woman. Based in Dallas. Where she would have ample opportunities for advancement.

  His body said with finality that the time for analysis was over. His jaw tightened and his legs quivered as the urge to come struck furiously and without quarter. Dimly, he heard Bailey cry out as she found completion. His own climax was more of a tornado, snatching him up, ass over heels, and dropping him into a void of sated bliss so dark and deep he wanted to revel in it forever.

  They stayed in bed this time, too exhausted to move. Bailey’s head lay on his chest. One of her arms curled across his waist. He floated on a sea of contentment that was unprecedented. In that moment, he believed anything was possible.

  Bailey stroked his chest idly, her fingers tracing the line of hair that ran from his collarbone to his groin. So mellow was he that her first quiet question didn’t even cause him heartburn.

  She sighed softly, her eyes shielded by long lashes. “Will you tell me more about your wife?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Not much left to tell. We married young. She had serious emotional problems. Her parents were wackos who subjected her to an unimaginable adolescence.”

  “Does Cade ask about her?”

  “He used to, from time to time. Now he’s more interested in finding Mrs. Addison Number Two.”

  “Has he ever visited his maternal grandparents?”

  Gil stiffened. “Not a chance in hell. My wife took an overdose of pills but lingered long enough to beg me not to ever let our son near her parents or their way of life. The custody case drew statewide attention. I think the cult—for lack of a better word—that my in-laws embraced began to worry that the government might take a closer look at them, so they moved the entire group over the border into Mexico.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gil. It must have been a nightmare for you.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  She was quiet for a few minutes, and then she sat up in the bed. “If you have one more of those little packets, I think I�
�m in the mood to see the view from the top.”

  * * *

  When Bailey awoke the next morning, the spot beside her was empty. In an instant, full recollection of what she had done rolled over her in a mix of exhilaration and panic. Raising up on her elbows, she saw a note on Gil’s pillow written in dark scrawl on a scrap of paper:

  Didn’t want things to be “weird,” so I’m giving you your space.

  He had signed his name and added a crooked smiley face. She smiled, half-sorry he wasn’t with her, but more than a little relieved to have a moment to compose herself. Lying in Gil’s bed felt deliciously decadent. She was usually an early riser, eager to start the day. But for once, she allowed herself a few minutes to revel in the memories of last night.

  Becoming Gil’s lover had been eye-opening. Never had she dreamed that inside his no-nonsense exterior was a tiger ready to pounce. He had wooed her, coaxed her, seduced her. And she had been a willing participant every step of the way.

  The scent of his skin still clung to her pillowcase. When her body reacted to the images that masculine fragrance evoked, she knew it was time to get up.

  After a quick shower, she dried her hair and dressed in the clean clothes she had packed in her overnight case. She made the bed, repacked her things, and carried the bag with her downstairs to set it by the front door. Coming face-to-face with the housekeeper was a bit of a shock, but the older woman never batted an eyelash. She smiled kindly and offered to scramble some eggs or make whatever Bailey wanted for breakfast.

  Settling for black coffee seemed the safest choice. Bailey’s stomach fluttered with nerves. Even now, dressed and in control somewhat, the prospect of seeing Gil was nerve-racking. He was a contained man, a private man, and though he had opened up to her last night in a very intimate way, she did not delude herself into thinking that she knew him well. They hadn’t been together long enough for that.

  The housekeeper seemed flustered that Gil’s guest wasn’t interested in eating, so to keep the peace, Bailey accepted a plate of toast and carried it and her coffee out onto the back porch. The morning was chilly, but her blazer, the one at which Gil turned up his nose, was warm enough to warrant an alfresco meal.

  It was a shock to find that her host had entertained the same idea. He sat on a cushioned wicker love seat, his phone and iPad on the glass-topped table beside him. When Bailey stepped out on the porch, he jumped to his feet. “Join me,” he said, his smile warm.

  She would rather have chosen the chair across from him, but that didn’t seem to be an option. Her stomach tightened as she sat down at Gil’s urging, hip to hip with the man who had wakened her twice during the night for lovemaking. Despite her best efforts, her cheeks reddened.

  He rested an arm across the back of the seat, his fingers stroking her shoulder lightly. “Did you sleep well?” His voice was a low rumble, the words husky and intimate.

  She set the plate of toast, uneaten, on the table, and gulped her coffee, not caring that it scalded her tongue. “Yes.” Staring out across Gil’s beautiful ranch, she pretended an intense interest in the view.

  His fingers moved to her neck, just below her ear. “You’re shy,” he accused, humor in his tone.

  The innocent caress turned her insides into a soft, yearning puddle of need, reminding her of the danger she faced. She was no more willing than any other woman to have her heart broken. “I’m thirty-three years old. I’m not shy.”

  “Then what is it? Look at me, Bailey.”

  She half turned, studying the face that had become dear to her. His chiseled good looks added up to so much more than a handsome man. His integrity, his decency, his willingness to do the right thing by his son...all those things touched her heart and made her love him.

  Staring into his eyes, she tried not to let him see the revelation that had knocked her sideways. When had she first known the truth about her feelings? Only last night? Or had her regard for him grown almost imperceptibly in the weeks she had studied him in his element? Even during that first interview when he had been angry and borderline obstructive, she had been drawn to his masculinity, to his aura of command, and even to his arrogance.

  Some men used their power and influence to ride roughshod over women and anyone they perceived as weak or inferior in any way. But Gil was different. He used his strength and capabilities to protect and support both his son and his wide circle of friends.

  It hadn’t escaped her notice that Gil was extremely popular in Royal. He was admired by women and respected by men. The truth was, in all her interviews, no one had ever spoken harshly or critically of Gil. He must have a few enemies or naysayers...most men in his position would. But if he did, she hadn’t come across them yet.

  Perhaps her mental “checkout” hadn’t been as long as it seemed. Because Gil waited patiently, his dark-eyed gaze a little too perceptive for her comfort. She didn’t want him to know the truth. She didn’t want him to think she was angling for something permanent. She didn’t want him to think she would be kind to his son to win points.

  “I enjoyed last night,” she said quietly, her mouth dry and her throat constricted. “But I do have a job I need to attend to. It’s late. I have to get back to town.”

  He frowned. “That’s it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can just walk away after last night?”

  Her fists clenched. “What do you want me to say, Gil? It was wonderful. But we both have responsibilities.”

  “I’m tired of being responsible,” he said, the words flat. “What I want is to go back upstairs with you and close the door.”

  Her heart raced. The image he conjured was unbearably tempting. “So would I,” she said. “But that’s not really an option, and you know it. Please let me go, Gil.”

  Something vibrated in his big frame and flashed in his eyes. Anger. Desire. He jumped to his feet and paced. “I’d rather you stay away from the club for a few days. Until some of the gossip and complaints die down.”

  She nodded. “I was almost done, anyway.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, looking more combative than amorous. “So why do you need to work today?”

  “You are a stubborn man.”

  He shrugged. “I know what I want.”

  “If you must know, I had planned to speak with Alex again. The doctors only allowed me a brief moment with him when he was found, and of course, he remembered nothing.”

  “You think that has changed?”

  “No. But perhaps on his home turf I can pick up some small clue...anything we might have missed earlier.”

  The ring of a cell phone interrupted them. Bailey glanced at Gil’s phone where it lay on the table. “It’s the sheriff.”

  “I’d better take this. Nate doesn’t call to chitchat.”

  Bailey listened unashamedly during the extremely brief conversation. When Gil hung up, she quizzed him. “Anything wrong?”

  He nodded, sober-faced. “Alex was rushed to emergency during the middle of the night with an excruciating headache. And now there’s some kind of uproar at the hospital. Nate asked me to get in touch with you and let you know.”

  Her mind raced. “Is Alex critical?”

  “I’m not sure. Nate was in a rush and didn’t take the time to explain. Do you think we should head over there?”

  She nodded. “I certainly want to. Especially since Sheriff Battle was being mysterious. When do you have to pick up Cade?”

  “Not until mid-afternoon. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  “Thank you. But I’ll take my own car. I don’t know how long I’ll be there. I don’t want to be stranded when you leave.”

  He didn’t like her choice. She could tell. But he didn’t argue further. Instead, he pulled her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Her a
rms circled his waist, feeling the heat of his body, the power, the ripple of muscle in his lower back.

  His mouth was hungry, but gentle. They were essentially on display, though no one appeared to be close by at the moment. The broad light of day was far less protective of secrets, however, and far less private than a shadowy bedroom and a moonlit mattress.

  She kissed him back, unable to resist. The way he held her conveyed so many things that hadn’t been put into words. In his embrace, she felt not only desire, but also a tenderness that disarmed her.

  His tongue teased the recesses of her mouth, making her knees wobble and her stomach tighten with pleasure. When she tasted him in return, he cursed quietly and set her away from him. The lines of his face were carved in frustration and thwarted need. “We’re not done with this. Make no mistake.”

  Ten

  Gil brooded on the way to the hospital, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel in a death grip. Only a short time ago he had awakened feeling jubilant and sexually sated and better than he had in a long, long time. A sleeping Bailey lay nude in his arms, her leg angled across his thighs, her hair a dark cinnamon cloud around her face.

  He had held her close in the predawn darkness, deeply grateful for whatever path led her to him. She walked alone in life, it seemed. Halfway estranged from her father. No other close family. Though Gil admired her self-sufficiency, he wished she would not discount the possibility that her current assignment put her in danger.

  The urge and desire to protect her was strong. As was the need to stake a claim somehow. That last bit didn’t make sense. Bailey was not involved with anyone else sexually or otherwise. She might be staying at Chance’s dude ranch, but Gil had no real worries on that score. Even if Chance made a move on her, Bailey would never get involved with someone who might be key in her investigation.