Make Me Lose Control

by Christie Ridgway

  Yesterday he’d used his sex appeal to knock her off balance.

  I know you good girls like your panties torn off on occasion.

  Still, it was possible she’d knocked him right back, she thought, with a smug little wiggle of her tush on the seat.

  Jace’s sidelong look felt like a poke. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  Getting as good as I got. “Nothing much,” she said, feeling cheerier. But uneasiness struck back as she spied the turn to the steep driveway leading to the Walker land. “I told you not to expect too much, right?” The last thing she wanted to hear was his assessment that the cabins were a lost cause.

  Instead of answering, he glanced in the rearview mirror as the car climbed the hill. “Is that another of your boyfriends following us?”

  Shay twisted in her seat, noting the unfamiliar sleek sedan on their tail. The sunlight on the windshield made it impossible to see inside. “I don’t know who it is...and I don’t have a boyfriend.” Jace had been right about Chris’s ex status. They’d dated months ago, though even now she couldn’t articulate why she’d ended things shortly after they’d begun. He was what a mountain girl like herself should want.

  Jace’s SUV braked and she was out of the car as the other vehicle came to a halt behind them. Then a long leg emerged from the driver’s side ending in an expensive pair of running shoes and Shay grinned, scampering over to greet the newcomer. He swept her into a hug and bussed her on the cheek. Then he held her away from him and beamed at her a million-dollar, movie-star smile that only widened her grin.

  “Don’t waste those megawatts on me,” she said, shaking a finger at him. “I’ve already told Poppy yes, I’ll babysit during your honeymoon.”

  He pulled her in for another great-smelling embrace. Shay didn’t even pretend reluctance. When a man like this wanted to hold you in his arms, who would be silly enough to object?

  The distinct clearing of a throat broke them apart. Glancing behind her, she saw Jace looming, his expression suspicious.

  “I thought you didn’t know this guy,” he said.

  “I didn’t recognize the car. New?” she asked Ryan.

  He shook his head. “I usually don’t bring it up to the mountains.” His gaze shifted toward the teen getting out of the SUV. “Hey...”

  “London,” Shay whispered.

  “Interesting,” Ryan murmured, then greeted the girl before reaching toward the other man. “You must be London’s dad.”

  Shay performed the introductions. Any ensuing small talk was postponed as Mason emerged from the backseat of Ryan’s car. He threw himself at Shay, who squeezed him hard. Next, he leaped in London’s direction. Jace appeared surprised that the girl bent to give the small boy her attention, but Shay wasn’t.

  “What are you doing here?” Shay asked Ryan as her nephew tugged the girl toward the cabins. With a glance back at her, Jace trailed behind the children.

  “Mason left his favorite baseball bat last time he visited. We’re here to retrieve it while Poppy does some sort of in-home beauty treatment that she claims will scare me away if I’m there to witness it.”

  Without thinking, Shay reached out and clutched his wrist. “Nothing will scare you away from my sister.”

  He squarely met her gaze as if sensing her great need for reassurance. “Nothing will scare me away from your sister, Shay. You have my solemn promise.”

  She sighed, and told herself there wasn’t a stinging pressure behind her eyes. Poppy deserved such devotion. It was what Shay wanted for herself—a man to belong to. A man who’d stick.

  Then Mason and London—carrying the sought-after bat—returned, a bemused Jace still on their heels. The little boy jumped onto Ryan and clambered up his body. “Found it, Duke. Now we can go home to practice.”

  He boosted the boy onto his shoulders. “In a sec. I want to know what brings your aunt to the cabins.”

  Shay glanced between Jace and his daughter. “London and her dad are here to...look around. They might be able to help out a little—you know, with getting the cabins into shape.”

  Ryan’s brows rose. “Poppy said you’d come over to the dark side.”

  She shrugged. “I told her I’d like to see the resort return to some kind of life, too.”

  “I wish you guys would allow me to invest—”

  “God, no!”

  He put up both hands. “All right, all right. I get it. Flatlander cash and Walker pride, a combination never to be tolerated.”

  Mason tugged on his hair and curled over Ryan’s head to gaze at the man upside down. “Practice, Duke.”

  “Practice, son,” Ryan said, swinging the child off his shoulders. “Say your goodbyes.”

  A few more moments of chatter and then boy and man were climbing into their car. Shay and Jace stood side by side as the pair prepared to leave. At the last second, Ryan rolled down his window and sent them a serious look.

  “Watch yourself,” he cautioned, then drove off.

  “I think that was meant for me,” Jace said. “It’s kind of a kick to get that from the famous Ryan Hamilton.”

  “Get what?”

  He smiled at her. “A warning against the dangerous power of Walker women.”

  Ignoring that, she spun around. “Ready for the five-dollar tour?”

  London, already familiar with the area, went on an exploration of her own. Shay explained to Jace there were twelve cabins in all, the five ringing the clearing and seven others in more secluded locations tucked into the surrounding woods.

  He peered up at the roof of the nearest bungalow and pronounced a need for immediate repairs.

  “We know that,” Shay said, “thanks to a late winter storm.”

  Then he pulled at one of the cedar shingles that covered the outside wall. It practically crumbled in his hand. “An easy fix. I can tackle problems like this and the roof. We’ll give London a rake and she can start tidying up around the cabins.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “This is my idea, remember? It will give me something to do—and get London’s mind off of boys.”

  Shay decided not to tell him that there wasn’t any working prescription for that, and instead followed as he made his way into the woods. “I want to see some of the other cabins,” he said.

  “Just keep following the path,” she instructed, pointing.

  Poppy had already reworn a narrow track that wound through the tall trees. Despite the shade beneath the boughs, the smell of sun-warmed pine permeated the air. Bugs hummed and birds rustled among the needles and leaves, but other than those natural sounds, it was quiet. Beautiful.

  The Walker legacy. She’d missed it.

  “So...” Jace mused as he continued through the woods. “Duke? What’s with that?”

  Shay paused. “What do you mean?”

  “Why does the boy call him Duke?”

  “Oh.” She ducked beneath a feathery cedar branch in order to catch up with him. “When Poppy and Mason met Ryan last March, the boy tumbled head over heels for Ryan at the same time Ryan was doing the same for both my sister and Mason. Duke is a character from a movie Ryan starred in that Mason loves.”

  “Ah.” Jace snapped his fingers. “Gang of Spies.” He came to a halt in front of another of the cabins, one that had always been a favorite of Shay’s. The A-frame roof had deep eaves that lent it a fairy-tale air. The trees that nestled around the structure filtered the light and gave it an almost buttery quality.

  Jace seemed to be giving the cottage a serious study. “So...they bonded that quickly,” he finally said. “Your nephew and Ryan.”

  “What they have is pretty special...” Her voice trailed off as she caught on to the significance of the question. Oh, she thought. Oh. Her instinct to soothe moved her c
loser to him.

  Reaching out, she brushed Jace’s back, the muscles stiff beneath her fingertips. “Mason’s not a teenager. He’s five years old. Like a small puppy, really. Very ready and eager to accept new people and new things.”

  Jace glanced down at her. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

  His golden eyes could mesmerize her, she thought, as she stared up at them. Heat gathered low in her belly and moved everywhere. “I’m...I’m not trying to make you feel anything.”

  That seemed to amuse him. Smiling, he lifted his hand, his touch ghosting over her cheek. “You’re failing at that, you know. Big-time.”

  Failing? Or...

  Ever fall foolishly into a relationship?

  Whatever he read on her face had him moving away. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned back toward the cabin. “How’d your family snag this prime piece of real estate?”

  She told him about the Walker ancestors. How they’d traveled up to the mountains with their oxen and their pioneering spirit one hundred and fifty years before. About the ski resort it had been in contemporary times. “But my father—not the shrewdest of businessmen—made a bad financial deal. When a fire swept through and took out everything but this handful of cabins, there was no way to rebuild.”

  “Until now.”

  “Until Poppy came up with an idea to refurbish what we have left and market it as an upscale, very private and secluded retreat. Fancy sheets, gourmet food, but no phones, no internet.”

  “For the busy city folk who want a real mountain escape.”

  “Yes. One that’s easy to reach, but very much away from it all.” She glanced around, breathing in the clean air. “Maybe for harried businesspeople such as yourself, who are looking for a solitary, peaceful haven.”

  He made a low sound.

  Shay turned to see that he was watching her, something...something new, and intense, in his golden eyes. “What?” she said, apprehensive, but determined to hold her ground.

  Shaking his head, he approached until he was close enough that she had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze. His breath fluttered the hair at her temple, making her shiver, and that connection between them snapped into place again, the line taut, quivering, just like the muscles in her thighs and across her chest.

  Transfixed, as unable to move as if she’d really been tied to him, she continued to stare upward. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “Because before today, before this moment, I would have said that’s just the kind of downtime I’d like. I’m good at solitary, Shay. That’s what I know. But looking at you right now, with the sun warming your hair and glittering in your eyes...”

  Shay felt herself sway toward him. He caught her shoulders and his fingers tightened there, whether to push her away or draw her close, she didn’t know.

  “I don’t feel so much like being alone,” he murmured.

  Nor did Shay. All her life she’d been on the outside, the observer, a step away from family, from being one of their tight circle. She moved into Jace now, her foot stepping between his so they were flush, body-to-body, the tips of her breasts against his chest, the bulge at his groin touching her belly. Another shiver tripped down her spine. Her kneecap brushed his and that simple touch felt as erotic as his tongue sweeping across her lower lip.

  Which it was doing.

  She moaned, her nipples tightening into a painful ache that was echoed between her thighs. Who knew that desire could hurt so much, she thought, her eyes closing. Who knew that the need to have more direct contact—nakedness, nudity, his flesh against hers, more, more, more—could be harsh instead of honey-sweet.

  Her arms rose up to cross behind his neck. She tilted her hips, rocking in tiny increments against the aggressive jut of his sex, trying to ease herself. Every cell of her cried out to have that thick stiffness, all of her wanted it inside her again. To be part of her.

  His tongue slid into her mouth. She moaned, sucking on it, and felt his hand sweep down her back, past her hip, to cup her bottom and bring her tighter against him. Her sex throbbed, and she slid her fingers into his thick, short hair, anchoring his mouth to hers.

  Then Jace’s head jerked up, breaking her hold. Panting, Shay stared at him, dazed, only to realize he was the first to sense impending danger. Now she could hear it, too, the sound of someone moving through the forest, not trying to be quiet. Still breathing heavily, Shay moved away, the back of her hand wiping her wet mouth.

  Jace’s gaze dropped there, flipping her stomach and causing her pulse to stagger like a Saturday night drunk. That’s what he did to her—made her intoxicated with desire. “Stop looking at me like that,” she hissed, fanning her face with both hands. Surely her cheeks were tomato red.

  Then their attention was claimed by London, who appeared around the side of the cabin. She glanced up at it, her lip curling. “Well, this one’s really a dump, isn’t it?”

  Jace scowled at her. “Where have you been? Don’t think you can wander off when it comes time to work.”

  “Sheesh.” The girl’s brows lifted, disappearing behind a hank of too-black hair. “Why are you so grouchy?”

  “Don’t ask,” her father muttered, then stomped off.

  London looked at Shay, the question still in her eyes. “Oh, you know,” Shay said vaguely, trying to smooth over the situation, “he probably needs a snack.”

  The girl’s frown said she considered the excuse a pretty poor one, though she did start off in her father’s footprints. Shay held back, glancing one more time at the cabin, seeing it through a stranger’s eyes. “It does look like a dump,” she muttered.

  But the thought evaporated as her gaze shifted to the spot where she and Jace had tangled. As she recalled the powerful force that propelled them together, as she relived the taste and burn of that prolonged, passionate kiss, her heart once again thrashed in her chest.

  Her stomach felt like a dinghy adrift on rough waters.

  It made her wonder how she would manage to soothe her own unsteadiness.

  * * *

  JACE LOOKED DOWN from the ladder he was using to reach and remove the rotting siding of one of the dilapidated Walker cabins. Across the clearing, London was raking brown needles into piles, though she kept stopping to adjust the work gloves he’d bought for her. Still, she was halfway-industrious, and he was glad to see it was too hot for her ubiquitous black sweatshirt. She’d abandoned it for the black T-shirt she wore beneath.

  Shay was in even less. Hiking boots, cut-off shorts, a tank top. Work gloves protected her hands, too, as she retrieved the shingles he let fall and tossed them into a wheelbarrow. Naturally, the task caused her to bend over a lot, denim cupping the round globes of her ass.

  Jace wondered if she’d go away if he told her just the sight of that made his dick hard.

  Christ.

  Fact was, she was driving him nuts. He couldn’t be around her for thirty seconds without wanting to push her up against a wall and push his tongue into her mouth. After yesterday’s blistering kiss, he’d looked forward to some sweat-inducing, muscle-tiring menial labor, imagining it would refocus his physical urges in another direction.

  That was not happening.

  He inserted the claw end of the short crowbar he held between the shingles. Barely a yank, and the wood crumbled into pieces and fell to the ground. Too late, he realized that Shay was right under him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No problem.” Sunglasses protected her eyes and she didn’t seem to mind brushing debris from her crown of bright hair and off her shoulders. She looked up, a frown turning down her lips. “It’s pretty bad, huh?”

  “Pretty,” he murmured, staring into her face. There was a flush on her cheeks and a sheen of sweat on her throat. Instead of leaping to the ground to taste
it with his mouth, he forced his gaze back to the house and his mind off her lovely features and long legs.

  Okay, he was thinking about her lovely features and long legs. Clearing his throat, he attacked again with the crowbar. When the next shingle fell, he remembered something he’d wanted to follow up on before.

  “The dark side?” he asked.

  She scooped up the shingle. “Say again?”

  “The dark side. Yesterday Ryan Hamilton asked if you’d come over to the dark side.”

  “Oh. That.” She gave him a quick glance. “Thirsty? Would you like a bottle of water?”

  Suddenly he was parched. And curious because she was clearly trying to avoid the subject. “Yeah.”

  He came down from the ladder just as she returned with a sweating bottle from the cooler they’d brought along. “Thanks.” Half of it went down in one go. “Dark side,” he prompted, when she took her own bottle away from her lips.

  She sighed. “Promise you won’t think we’re all crazy.”

  Crazy was his reluctance to climb back up on the ladder and put much-needed distance between them. Instead, he reached out to push her dark shades to the top of her head so he could look into her eyes, their cool blue icy and beautiful. “Go ahead and tell me.”

  “First you should know the Walkers aren’t in agreement about what to do with this property.”

  “Obviously Poppy’s all for the resort, as are you, it seems. Your other sister and brother...?”

  “Claim the place is cursed.”

  He laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Shay said. “Family legend says one of the logger forebears did something—causes differ upon the telling—and he and his property were damned for all time.”

  Jace finished his bottle of water and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. When he looked back at Shay, she’d restored her sunglasses to their place on her nose. Hiding, he thought. Why?