Cowboy On Her Doorstep (Montgomery Brothers Book 1)

by Pam Mantovani

  She loved.

  Her throat closed. There was nothing she could do now to protect her heart. It was his and, if she were honest with herself, always had been.

  She could see Logan was a better man for having left and joined the Army. If she loved him as much as her heart insisted, how could she consider asking him to stay here with her?

  “What’s wrong?”

  Kendall blinked at the realization that Logan had reined his horse to a stop next to hers. He reached out a hand, and she felt the wet coolness of the tear he brushed away.

  “Oh. I tend to get weepy when I’m tired.” She sniffed, hoping mention of their daughter would redirect the conversation. “Marissa was the same this morning when I spoke with her.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You didn’t sleep well.”

  “Fitful.”

  “I should have stayed with you.”

  “Logan, you did enough.”

  His jaw tensed before he jerked the reins abruptly and nudged his horse around. She lifted her hand but then let it drop back to her reins. What had she said wrong? She studied his stiff back and sighed. “Where are we going?”

  “Just a little further.” He pointed to a rise of land bordered by a streaming ribbon of water. Off in the distance were mountains still sparkling with their winter cap of snow.

  “Oh.” She leaned over as if adjusting the stirrup while she calculated the terrain and distance.

  “Something wrong?” Logan asked, stopping and turning his horse to face her.

  She said nothing, simply kicked her horse which took off at a gallop. She laughed with the delight at taking him by surprise, with pleasure at the feel of the breeze on her face and tangling her hair, with joy at the freedom of riding fast and hard. He caught up with her quickly, but the fun and thrill remained.

  Her muscles quivered as she used legs and arms to guide and urge the horse faster. As Logan sprinted past her, she admired the fluid grace of him urging the horse to run faster. He sat his horse with a confidence and ease she envied. He looked so at home on the horse, here on this wide stretch of open land, and more at peace than she’d seen him since his return.

  As she rode up next to him, his smile had her heart kicking harder and love swelling inside her. “I can’t believe you tried that.”

  “It worked.” She managed a smile between her ragged breaths. “For a bit.”

  “A short bit.”

  “It still felt great.”

  “Yeah.” He rose up in his stirrups and scanned the horizon. “It did.”

  She followed his gaze. “I didn’t realize Carter’s land extended this far.”

  Logan dismounted and Kendall did the same, biting down on her bottom lip to prevent a groan. Her muscles were going to scream at her tomorrow.

  “This is mine.”

  “What?” Her hand froze where she’d been stroking the horse. Her first instinct was to throw herself into his arms, to use this news as the springboard for a confession of her love. But caution coated her words. “I thought the ranch was Carter’s.”

  “It is.” He shrugged and looped the reins over his horse’s head, led him over to the stream for a drink. Kendall followed and did the same. “Carter told me he wasn’t using this part of the ranch, and I could have it if I want.”

  Hope took root in her heart and struggled to bloom. She had to turn away from him, from everything that shimmered in her mind and heart, and surveyed the land around them. “And do you want it?”

  “It’s the land I asked my father for all those years ago. When I wanted to start the horse-training business.”

  “And now Carter’s just giving it you? Why?”

  “You know Carter, he uses as few words as possible.” Logan let the reins drop to the ground, so the horse could graze. “I came out here day before yesterday and took a look around.”

  He removed the saddlebags he’d brought along and pulled out a bottle of white wine. Kendall lifted her brows but remained silent as he wedged it between some rocks in the water so it could chill. Then he settled the saddlebags on his shoulder and started walking.

  “It would be nice if there were some trees, for shade,” Kendall said.

  Her shorter legs had to hurry to catch up. He came to a standstill at the crest of a small incline. She stood beside him, scanning the horizon, seeing that this particular spot gave a spectacular view of the mountains as well as the stream.

  “I thought this could be a good spot for a house.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she agreed, that hope rooting deeper in her heart. The land fit him with the wide open expanse that would be perfect to pasture the horses he loved, the proximity to his brother and town.

  “So, what do you have in mind?” she asked.

  “Still thinking it over.”

  He knelt down, drew a blanket out of one side of the bag. Once he had it spread out, he sat, used his thumb to tip back his hat, and crossed one arm over his bent knee.

  “I can’t picture a house,” he said, gazing off into the distance. “Maybe ’cause it’s been so long since I’ve lived in one.”

  “I keep hoping I’ll save up enough to buy my own someday.” Kendall sat beside him. “But something always seems to come up that I can’t put off, and I end up robbing my home budget.”

  “What kind would you like?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip, told herself that he was just making conversation. This was hardly different from any of the conversations they’d had all those years ago, conversations centering around dreams and goals. He wasn’t asking her to build a home, and a life, with him.

  Yet . . .

  “Oh, the style doesn’t really matter.”

  “What does?”

  “That I give Marissa somewhere she feels loved, a place where she knows she’ll always be accepted and happy.”

  “The way you never were in your father’s house.”

  She felt an inner warmth wrap around her, one that had nothing to do with the sunshine. How like him to understand. “Yes.”

  “You could never be like him, Kendall.”

  That’s when it hit her. She had done exactly what her father had done after her mother’s death. “I should have gone home last night, been with her,” she said, panic and sickness swirling in her belly. She covered her mouth with her hand, pressed hard against her lips to keep the rolling sickness down. “Instead, I turned my back and left her alone. She cried this morning. But I still stayed away.”

  “You took a day,” he insisted.

  “I only thought about what I wanted, what I needed.”

  He scooted closer, lifted a hand to curl around the back of her neck. His fingers soothed a knot of tension. “You left her in the care of someone you trust.”

  “So did my father. He always saw to it that I had someone looking out for me. It was so rarely him. He never understood that sometimes I needed, wanted, it to be just him and me.”

  “You took one day,” Logan repeated. “You would never neglect Marissa the way your father did with you, Kendall. You know that.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. It should have been light and friendly, a gentle pressure meant to calm and comfort. Only it arrowed straight through her. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands gripped his shirt and held him there, her mouth enticing his to stay and take more.

  “Kendall,” he groaned in what sounded like a mix of protest and plea. “You’re upset.”

  “This has nothing to do with Marissa or what happened yesterday. I swear it. Make love with me, Logan.” She inched closer, her mouth continued to mate with his as her hands began to run over him, slow and sure.

  “I’m not trying to make the decision for you.” She lifted her head, stared at him. “I’m asking you to make the decisio
n. To want to be with me.” Me, just me, she wanted to plea.

  “You know I do.”

  Slowly she pulled away, her fingers moving to the top button of his shirt that she wore. “Show me.”

  His hands covered hers, then moved to frame her face, draw her to him for another kiss. His mouth stayed soft and caressing on hers even as she felt the tense muscles of his chest beneath her palms. Her spirit soared with this first hint of tenderness. He wanted her. Here. Now.

  The breeze that had ruffled her hair during their horse race now skimmed as they slowly, oh so slowly, parted clothes and exposed skin. Kendall stilled when her gaze landed on his dog tags. It seemed wrong somehow that he wear them as they made love. Yet she didn’t know how to ask him to remove them. He must have sensed her pause, or at the very least, seen where her attention centered. Without a word, he pulled the chain over his head, tossed aside the military identification.

  When he turned back to her, she placed her hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. Her fingertips dipped into the valley of his collar bone as his mouth lowered to hers. The sun warmed them, but it was enticing anticipation that had the heat building between them. Wherever Logan’s hands caressed, his mouth followed, lingered.

  Everything within her came to life. Their first time together she’d been too shy and desperate to fully appreciate how he could make her feel. Now she luxuriated in every touch and taste. She shivered when he used his teeth to scrape at her jaw, when his tongue traced along her shoulders and down the slope of her breast. She gasped when his mouth closed over her nipple and suckled. Swirls of emotion, of need, surrounded her. He cupped her and through the denim of her jeans she felt the heat of his stroking touch. Before she could be stunned by the suddenness, she bucked with an intense climax.

  He whispered words as he continued to torment her, as he waited for her to spiral down from the heights he’d taken her. Only to have him urging her to take more. He stripped her of the rest of her clothes as well as any emotional barriers. Not that she would deny him anything.

  Her heart stuttered when he trailed kisses over her stomach, over the faint marks of having carried his child. His head lifted, his gaze bore into hers. She saw wonder and appreciation for what they’d created that night so many years ago.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you.”

  “You’re here now.”

  Forgotten was any reservation, ignored was the hammering of a heart that wanted to cry out her love. She followed his lead and used her body to tell him what she couldn’t voice.

  As she stroked and tempted, as her mouth mated with his, she loved him with every fiber of her being. She grew fascinated with the scattering of freckles on the back of his shoulders. Nipping with teeth and lapping with her tongue, she thrilled with the freedom to explore and taste every spot. She felt the rise of a giddy pride when he sucked in a breath as her hands lowered and closed around him.

  It was when she allowed her lips to journey lower, when she discovered the puckered skin on his thigh, that she went cold and still.

  “Logan?” Her heart hammered in her throat, making her voice coarse and raw sounding. When everything urged her to turn away, she leaned forward a little to get a closer look. Tears pricked her eyes. “Oh, Logan.” She swallowed, but that did little to tap down the fear, the regret. “Oh God.”

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips coasting over her face. His hands were gentle as they tried to soothe her distress.

  She made herself look at him, to stare into his eyes. She saw more than the casual acceptance he suggested, saw what he didn’t want to say. For now she’d accept it wasn’t the time. But the visible scar of an injury he’d received while he’d been away reminded her of everything—all the time and moments—they’d lost. She wouldn’t lose this one now over something they couldn’t change. Instead, she kissed him, moved against him, ran her hands over him. Although his responses told her that she pleased him, it was her body that once again experienced the satisfaction of cresting a peak.

  She adored his weight on her, his body hard and demanding against hers. His heart pounding against hers. No longer did she see the sky above them, no longer did she hear the distant rush of creek water over stone, no longer did she smell the grass enveloping them. All she knew was him.

  “Kendall,” he panted, then swore as her hands stroked the long hard length of him, as her hips lifted to entice him. “Damn it, give me a minute.”

  “Why?” She felt the pressure inside her building, wondered that she didn’t simply explode with it. “I want you, Logan.”

  “I can’t, I won’t.” His breath fired out, hot and fierce as he again swore and angled away, just a little. She moaned and found no embarrassment in the sound. “Damn it, Kendall, I have to protect you.”

  It took her a minute, a very long minute, to realize why he was turning away.

  “Oh.” She gripped his arms, had him turning back to her. “It’s okay.” She closed her eyes against the streak of regret. She had no business whatsoever wishing for what she knew would only make everything worse. “Remember, I told you that I’m on birth control?”

  “It’s more than that.”

  She bore down on the jealousy, accepting that it was only natural he’d been with other women in the years they’d been apart. Instead, she told herself to be grateful that he cared enough to keep her safe.

  “It’s okay,” she repeated, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “I trust you.”

  He let out one long breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. Then, saying nothing more, he lowered his mouth to hers and resumed his pleasurable assault on her body and senses. When he finally stretched above her, when their bodies were aligned as if made for one another, when she felt the hard tip of him rubbing against her, she vibrated with a new urgency. Only he stopped yet again to stare at her. She wanted to cry out at the delay, to demand what now?

  There was a different look to his face this time, one she couldn’t seem to interpret. For the first time today she felt nerves nibble at her. She questioned the wisdom of being with him when so much remained unsettled between them, struggled with unease that she’d somehow disappointed him. And still she knew she wanted him beyond reason.

  His eyes were a darker green than she’d ever imagined possible. “Tell me.”

  She heard the undertone of his need for words that would make this more than a moment of wanting. That’s when she knew. Knew what he asked, knew what he sought. Her hands coasted down his back to curve around the sculpted contour of his butt, urging him closer, using action rather than words.

  If nothing was said, then nothing could go unsaid.

  “Tell me,” he ground out, digging his feet into the ground to stop his momentum.

  It would be an admission more revealing than a confession of love. But the fact that he asked, demanded, gave her courage to answer.

  “Logan.” She stared into his eyes. “I need you.”

  The words had no sooner left her mouth than he plunged into her. She gasped at the quick burn of pain, felt his body stiffen at the reminder that it had been so long since her body had accepted another. Since it had accepted him. Her hands pressed him closer, deeper, into her.

  Her mouth captured his as her body opened, welcomed. Rejoiced. Joined with her was the man she would always and forever belong to. Whatever the future brought couldn’t dull the beauty of all they now shared. All she cared about at this moment, for this one space of time, was being in his arms. She was loved.

  If not loved in his heart at least by his body.

  Their well-matched rhythm took over. Together they rocked, giving as well as taking pleasure in equal measure now. Just as together, they cried out in a final surge of fulfillment.

  SHE HAD NO strength and less will to move. Agai
nst her throat, she felt his breath rush in and out. His sweat-soaked body bore down on hers, and she felt a rock beneath the blanket dig into her back. Kendall had never before felt so wonderfully alive.

  “One of these times,” Logan said, his voice rough enough to have shivers of excitement pooling where he remained inside her. “I need to get you into a bed.”

  “Is that a complaint?” she teased, running fingertips up and down his spine.

  “No.” He lifted his head, stared into her eyes. “It’s a promise.”

  She couldn’t hold back a teasing smile. “Please tell me I’m not going to have to wait as long this time.”

  He grinned, and despite her attempt at being bold, she felt her cheeks go hot at the way his body responded to her comment. “I can guarantee that.”

  He did much more than guarantee.

  Afterward, they napped, waking in each other’s arms. They splashed like three-year-olds in the bracing chill of the stream. Logan built a small fire. As they ate lunch and drank cold wine, they talked. By some unspoken agreement, they kept to uncomplicated topics. Until, finally, as she sat tucked between his legs with her back braced on his chest, she realized she’d been the only one talking.

  “Logan?” She touched a hand to the arm he had wrapped around her waist. “Everything okay?”

  “Being here with you today reminds me how much I’ve missed this—the land, the horses. I missed the smell of hay and saddle leather. Hell, I even missed getting up at dawn to help Carter with the cattle.” His arms tightened around hers slightly. “It’s so different from what I’ve become used to, what I had to become used to.” He was silent a moment, then in a soft whisper, almost as if in an afterthought he added. “I had no idea it would be this hard to come home.”

  With supreme effort she stayed relaxed against him. A part of her wished he’d included her in the list of all he missed, but she had to focus on the fact that while he said it was hard to come home, he’d said nothing about staying.