He stilled her hand. With little effort, he stood, holding her in his arms, and carried her back to the bed, still rumpled from her sleep. While she removed her panties, he removed his remaining clothing then he lay down with her. Leaning across her, he dug in a drawer in the nightstand beside the bed. He handed her the condom.
“Whenever you’re ready. And if you’re not, that’s okay, too.” His mouth returned to hers. The time was right.
“Make love to me, Jacob,” she whispered against his lips. It shocked her, she meant the literal meaning. She had fallen utterly and completely in love with the man.
Zan opened the foil package and quickly sheathed him. She ran her hands down his back nudging him on top of her. He wasted little time entering her, filling her. Jacob’s slow, rhythmic rocking gradually increased until Zan skyrocketed to the heavens again.
She tried to match his rhythm, tried to keep up, but warmth built and exploded all around her, every inch of her body tingling and electric. She cried out his name and bit down on his shoulder when she could take no more. “I can’t believe…again.” She shuddered and it wasn’t until a final thrust and Jacob’s shoulders went lax that he came too. He dropped beside her on the bed, pulling her to his side and kissed her damp temple. Just as she drifted off, she thought she heard him say, in a whispered tone, “I’m in deep trouble.”
Chapter Eleven
“How’d you like to go riding?” Jacob refilled Zan’s coffee mug before he took the empty plates to the sink. They’d spent the entire day in bed, only getting out long enough to eat before they fell back into one another’s arms.
By the time they finally left the bed, it was well into the next day. Jacob made a late lunch of huevos rancheros and pancakes. When they finished eating, he needed to get her out of the house. Otherwise, he’d get the beautiful woman, decked out in her laundered jeans and one of his denim shirts, undressed and back into his bed.
He was in deep trouble. Any pretense of thinking she was a fling or short-term relationship fled when she looked up at him and smiled. Emotions sparked brighter than ever before. Adoration. Possessiveness. A strong case of lust. Hell, maybe even love.
The “L” word churned his gut. He didn’t think he was ready for that, hell, he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready for that.
She pushed back from the table and scratched at the bandage on her forehead. “You want to go out now?”
Anger burned. What might have happened if he hadn’t gone looking for her?
He tried not to let his mind go there. It accomplished nothing except to rile him.
Remembering her question, he leaned his hip onto the kitchen counter and spoke. “Sure. Why not? I promise we’ll take it easy. Just a leisurely walk.”
He wanted to get Zan out of the house and away from thoughts of Friday night. He’d called Sheriff Reese while Zan showered and learned that Dale had a solid alibi for the evening, or as solid as it could be with his cronies being the only ones to see him. They swore they were up at Dale’s house all night playing poker. Not to mention there was not a scratch on his half-ton beast of a truck.
Jacob didn’t believe a word of it. The pit of his stomach lurched. Dale pushed her off the road whether they could prove it or not. As terrified as he had been the night before last, he was more afraid of what Dale might do now that the sheriff had accused him of something far more dangerous. The last time Reese had been involved, the dickhead Dale had left bruises on Zan, then the festival… Jacob sure as hell wasn’t about to let it happen again. The stakes were getting higher and the price to Zan steeper.
“Sounds like fun,” she answered, breaking into his thoughts.
She smiled at him, oblivious to his dark thoughts. Standing from the table, she deposited her mug in the sink. Jacob shook his head and cleared his mind.
Just watching Zan, seeing her at ease in his home tightened his chest. She looked like she belonged in his kitchen and in his life. Images of happily-ever-after danced in his head.
And babies.
It nearly floored him.
Never before had a woman painted his future with children, but with Zan, he wanted it all; a little boy with golden-red hair and gray eyes like his mama. Or a little girl… A daddy’s girl with his dark brown eyes and hair, taking her first step. It didn’t frighten him as it had in the past, quite the opposite in fact. It made his heart want to burst. It even seemed attainable. A chance he’d never thought he would get.
Jacob walked up behind her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Great, then let’s go riding.”
———
An hour later, they crested the west ridge of the Cates’ property. Zan scanned the area then turned to Jacob. “Tell me how the horses got their names.”
He laughed. “Well Lisa named Applesauce. Willard bought her the horse a few years ago, but I don’t think she’s ridden him more than a few times. Not sure how she picked the name, but she was eleven or twelve at the time. She is about the color of applesauce though, so…” He shrugged.
“Hmm. How’d you come up with the name for your horse? Are you a big Tennessee Williams fan?”
“No.” He shook his and a melancholy smile crooked his lips. “No, Stella was my grandmother’s name.” He rubbed the auburn horse’s neck. “Her hair was about this color. It’s kind of hard to remember for sure. She died when I was nine.”
Zan’s chest tightened at the pain on his face.
“And Papaw helped me pick her out. I thought it was fitting.”
Zan nodded. Cramped muscles tightened several parts of her body. She wanted to rub her backside, but didn’t think it was too ladylike. “Can we stop for a bit?”
“Sure. Is something wrong?” He slowed his horse, concern etched on his face.
“No.” Zan paused. “It’s just so beautiful. I’d like to sit and enjoy it.” That was true, too.
Both stopped their horses.
From the back of the paint horse, Zan looked out across the land. The grass still held onto the green despite the cooling autumn temperatures. A few trees dotted the area and Zan heard birds singing. Her heart filled with the quiet calm that seemed so rare in her life lately.
Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, she held her face to the sky. The warm sun kissed her cheeks and for a moment, she looked at the big, puffy clouds. Memories of her childhood flooded her.
“When I was little, I would lie in the grass with Jeffery and Trevor. They would tell me the adventure of the cloud kings.”
“Who are the cloud kings?”
Zan laughed, her face still tilted up. “The rulers of the sky. They controlled the rain, the sunshine, the wind and the snow. It all depended on little Princess Zannie’s moods. When she was happy, the sun shone brightly. Sadness brought the rain and so on.”
Zan’s head came forward when she heard Jacob’s muffled laugh. He had his hat covering his face, but she could see his shoulders shake. “Jacob,” she said in a mock warning.
He lowered the hat and looked at her, his eyes alight with humor. “Princess Zannie?”
“I didn’t make up the story. My brothers did. I was only three when they started it.”
He laughed even harder, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
He really was cute when he laughed like that. His whole face relaxed and tiny lines creased from his eyes. Did he have to go on that way? “Jacob,” she said, her mock warning more stern.
“Sorry. I’m just having trouble picturing Jeffery Walters, 1987 National League strike-out leader, telling tales of Princess Zannie and the cloud kings.” He waved his hat, motioning to the sky.
“Jeffery’s title was in ’86. He had three-hundred-and-two strike outs by the way.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Nolan Ryan was ’87.”
“Damn, you sure know your baseball.” His grin spread. “For a girl.”
Zan glared at him, squinting her eyes and biting the inside of her lips to keep from laughing.
“Go on, p
lease.” His voice strained from trying not to laugh. “I want to hear more about this princess.”
“No, no, that’s okay. I think you’ve had your jollies for now. I’d rather not talk about it any more.”
“Zan, I was just teasing. Please tell me more.” Both horses moved around, probably antsy from being idle for so long.
“No. I’m done—for now.” She steadied the paint horse. She needed to get down. “Can we stay here and sit instead of going on up to the next hill?”
Jacob nodded and dismounted with an athletic grace that made Zan’s mouth water. His muscles rippled under his denim shirt and she got a nice view of his stellar butt.
She was still sitting astride Applesauce when he walked over to her. He must have taken her laziness for needing a hand down, because even though Zan had ridden for years, he held his arms out waiting for her. Actually, she was a little tender—from the car accident—so she let him ease her from the saddle. Aside from her aching bottom, her neck and shoulders pinched when she moved.
She rolled her neck then rested her head on his chest.
“Sore?” Jacob turned her back to him and started massaging her shoulders. “You may want to go in and see the doctor. He didn’t think you had whiplash, but it never hurts to have it checked.”
“No thanks. No doctor,” Zan whispered, too relaxed from his hands to speak with much more force. She closed her eyes and let her chin drop to her chest. The scent of the leather saddles and exercised horses mingled with the wild flowers dotting the area. Zan had found Utopia.
Then Jacob’s hands stilled and he turned her to face him. With a reluctant sigh, she opened her eyes, wishing he would continue making her muscles sing with pleasure. Instead, he put his index finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his.
All the laughter was gone. His brown eyes were serious and his drawn lips into a tight line.
“What’s the matter?” Zan asked. Before she could prod any more he put two fingers on her lips shushing her.
“Zan, the other night…” he trailed off and released her. Turning around, he took three steps away and his shoulders slumped. “I have never been so scared, Zan. Never. When you didn’t show up, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut.
“Then when I saw your car in the ditch…” He shook his head. “At first…at first I thought maybe you were…” he paused, “…dead,” he said finally. “My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst.”
“Oh geez, Jacob.” Zan walked up behind him and threaded her arms around his waist, hugging him with her cheek on his back. He was shaking. Her heart, heavy and full, sank. She never wanted to see Jacob hurt because of her. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever the hell for?” He broke free from her grip and turned back to face her. “That was not your fault.”
Tears wet the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. “Not entirely, I know, but I should have…”
“Zan. Listen to me.” Jacob grabbed the top of her arms, but didn’t hurt her. “That was not your fault. Don’t ever think it was.” Jacob’s lips pursed in a straight line, a tint of red colored his cheeks. And his eyes… His eyes looked wild and dangerous, but Zan wasn’t afraid.
She was safer than she’d been in years. Goosebumps spread down her arms, warmth shot from her cheeks to all but curl her toes.
“Jacob…” He silenced her with a deep, sensual kiss. His hands slid down her arms and he intertwined their fingers.
He settled his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “I…oh, damn. This is so hard.”
Hard?
Zan’s pulse raced. What was Jacob trying to tell her? She leaned back. “What is it?”
———
Jacob opened his eyes and after a second of looking at her face, started laughing. “It’s nothing bad, Zan. You look petrified.” He released her hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “I just wanted to say… That is, I just needed to say…” He paused and shifted from foot to foot. His hands, in perpetual motion, shifted from his hips to clasp in front of him and back. Sweat dotted his brow.
He wanted to tell Zan he loved her—he did, so much it scared him witless—but the last time he’d come close to those words that woman had walked over his heart, stiletto puncturing damage and all. “I could kill Dale Holstrom.”
Her mouth fell open. “I, uh, you could?”
Jacob nodded. He almost wanted to laugh at the confusion on her face. “The man is an ass and needs to be put in his place.”
“Agreed.” She frowned and ran a hand through her hair. “But, it won’t be by me. I’m done egging him on.”
He nodded again. “Good.” If Papaw could see him, he’d kick his ass from one side of town to the other. He didn’t raise a gutless wonder. “We should probably get back. It’s getting dark.”
“Okay.” She glanced back at the horse with what looked like a grimace.
He’d forgotten how sore she must be. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. If he was going to be a yellow-bellied coward and keep his feelings to himself, the least he could do was spend as much time alone with her as possible. He glanced over where she stood eyeing the horse. “A few minutes longer couldn’t hurt. We have some amazing sunsets.”
“I’ve seen a couple from my back porch. They’re beautiful.”
“Darlin, compared to you—” he debated finishing his thought aloud, but he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to, “—it’s just something to look at.”
Zan walked over to him and cupped his face in her hands. On her tiptoes, she kissed him. A long, slow kiss.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. God he loved this woman, but again instead of voicing his feelings he pulled away and said, “Let’s get to watching.”
———
Jacob had had the forethought to pack a couple of sandwiches and blankets. The two had lain on the ground, talking about their lives and talking about nothing at all. For the first time in his life, Jacob didn’t mind. After the marvelous sunset, the ride back to the ranch was lazy and slow. The horses followed the trail they knew by heart as Zan and Jacob talked more.
The words of love were on the tip of his tongue the entire ride. But he was afraid. Afraid she might laugh or rebuke his admission. After the last two days, he should have told her. He’d been so terrified of losing her, but the risk of baring his feelings, sharing his soul, shadowed by his history with women, kept him quiet. Even if he couldn’t tell her, he’d sure as hell try to show her. With touches, kisses, just being the friend she needed more than anything.
“So what do you think?”
“Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jacob asked.
“A few hours of conversation and you’re already tuning me out? Sheesh.” Zan’s teasing tittered on the night’s breeze.
“Sorry, just thinking.”
“About?”
“You actually.”
“Yeah, sure, a likely story.” She snorted.
“I was. I was thinking about making love to you all night long.”
Even though it was too dim to tell for sure, he could imagine a red tint on her cheeks. The color would spread and cover places he wanted to again trail over with his tongue. He shifted to relieve some of the tightness in his jeans, then maneuvered his horse next to hers and grabbed the bridle, stopping the paint. He nudged his horse closer, his knee brushing her thigh.
“I was thinking that I want to feel you beneath me.” He leaned into her and captured her mouth. “And how much I want to hear you sigh like you do right before you come,” he said against her lips.
Zan giggled and grabbed his shirtfront. “Those are mighty big thoughts, mister.”
“Mmm-hmm.” His tongue slid with hers as the horses moved around impatiently beneath them making the lip-lock near impossible. “Guess we better get moving.”
“Okay,” Zan sighed. “Oh, hey, I was asking, if you have plans for Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
&n
bsp; “Yes. You do remember Thanksgiving?”
Jacob grunted and reached up under his hat and scratched his head. He hadn’t given it any consideration at all.
“I want you to come with me to my aunt’s.”
Family? Oh shit. “Well, I don’t know about that, Zan. I, uh, usually just spend the day with Papaw.”
“Bring him, too. Aunt Bonnie loves entertaining. And since she moved to Sheridan, she hasn’t been able to do a lot.”
The sky had gone black with the sun down for the night, but the stars lit up the area. Jacob watched her toy with her lip, moving with the horse’s slow gate. She was thinking hard about something. Whenever she thought deeply she tugged on her lip. When did he learn her idiosyncrasies?
“Your granddad lives in Sheridan, right?” she asked finally.
“Yeah, but I don’t remember telling you that.” Not that he cared, but that was just…spooky.
“Hank,” she said simply.
Jacob nodded. He didn’t need any further explanation.
“So, then, we’ll pick him up on the way.”
“I don’t have enough room for the three of us in my truck—Papaw doesn’t like to be crowded.”
“My car will be fixed by then. You spoke to Manny yourself this morning. I’ll even let you drive. It’s a classic, you know. He can have the entire backseat to himself. And you have no more excuses.” She turned a hundred-watt smile on him and whatever defenses he was building up to say no disappeared.
“How can I say no to that kinda logic?” he asked with his own dazzling smile. The lights of the ranch burned bright coming into view a quarter of a mile away.
She winked at him. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
Chapter Twelve
Thanksgiving dinner.
How did he let Zan talk him into going to dinner at her aunt’s house? Looking next to him in the front seat of her car, the answer came to him. She was beautiful with a red sweater hugging the curves of her breasts. The color accentuated the red highlights of her blonde hair and the rosy glow on her cheeks, still pink from the cold wind. Her short skirt hiked up her leg showing far too much thigh for him to concentrate on the road as she turned in her seat and talked to his grandfather, Oscar Bowman, in the back, who was a bigger baseball fan than he ever hoped to be.
Second Chances Page 10
