Montana Actually

by Fiona Lowe

  She couldn’t wrap her head around what Josh had just said. “You find my work clothes and tool belt sexy?”

  “Oh yeah.” He dropped his head and closed his mouth around her aching breast, sucking her through the red lace.

  Her body exploded with a shower of bliss. “Take it off,” she panted. “Please.”

  “In a minute.” Still imprisoning her hands, he moved his mouth to her other breast and lazily tormented her a little longer.

  She bucked and writhed underneath him and eventually he pulled her forward. In a flurry of hands and fingers, they tugged and pushed and pulled at each other’s clothes and shoes until they were both naked. Gloriously naked.

  She stared at him, soaking him up from the delineated muscles of his chest across the toned six-pack of his abdomen and down to his impressive erection. Pushing at his shoulders, she sent him backward and flung her legs over his. “If I didn’t think it would give you a swelled head, I’d tell you that the reality of you naked, even fuzzily out of focus, far outshines the fantasy.”

  He grinned at her with dimples dancing. “I aim to please.”

  “So do I.” She closed her hand around him, loving the hot and silken feel of him in her palm.

  “Jesus, Katrina,” he moaned as his hands reached for her. “Too much of that and I won’t be pleasing you for another twenty minutes.”

  “Where’s your self-control?” she teased.

  “I lost it the moment I met you.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, and she didn’t want to acknowledge the traitorous quiver in her heart, so she kissed him. Hard. Hot. Deep.

  His need for her exploded in her mouth, and all that existed for her was him. His heat. His need. The thrust of his tongue dominating her mouth, the feel of his fingers sliding inside her slick and ready body and the pressure of his thumb doing duty on her throbbing clitoris.

  After spending days in a state of constant arousal, her body didn’t need much help. Sensation built on sensation and her muscles clenched desperately around his fingers, riding them, forcing them against that special spot sobbing to be rubbed. Pleasure became pain became pleasure, the difference infinitesimal, and she craved it all. Her nipples screamed, her lungs ached, her toes curled and she thought she’d explode with the sheer ecstasy of it all. Pulling her mouth away from his, she threw her head back and heard herself cry out as bliss rained through her. She collapsed in a boneless heap on his chest.

  “A definite erogenous zone,” he said before kissing her hair. “Although I think there are still a lot more I need to find.”

  She smiled down at him. “I hate to say it but you’re really good at that.”

  “Yeah. I’ve still got it.”

  She thought she heard a thread of antagonism under the joking, but it skated past her orgasm-fogged mind. “I have a few skills myself.”

  He stroked her face. “Is that so?”

  Her hand moved down to touch him again. “So name your poison. Hand or mouth?”

  “You.” He wrapped his legs around hers and commando-rolled them over. “I want to bury myself inside of you.”

  She shivered with joyful anticipation as he leaned sideways and grabbed a condom from the bedside table. “I can do that for you.”

  “Maybe next time.”

  He quickly rolled it on, but instead of entering her as she’d expected—as she craved—he kissed her thoroughly.

  She nudged him. “Josh, I’m good to go.”

  He ignored her and turned his attention to her breasts. The final vestiges of her postorgasm torpor vaporized. “Josh, seriously, I’m so ready now.”

  “Katrina, you know better than that.” Glittering eyes stared down at her and his forehead wore a fine sheen of sweat. “You know I don’t like being told what to do.”

  “Sorry,” she said with faux contrition. “I forgot.”

  “This might make you remember.” He nipped and licked and kissed his way along the length of her belly until she was sobbing and writhing in desperation. Her muscles twitched against empty, desperate to feel him deep inside her, driving her to the point of insanity.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips toward him as her hands pummeled his back. “Dear God, Josh, you’re killing me.”

  “Welcome to my world, sweetheart.”

  As he leaned down and swiftly kissed her lips, he entered her aching body.

  Thank you. She closed around him, taking him in, urging him forward, wanting him so badly.

  His control vanished and he thrust deep and hard, panting fast. She met each thrust with one of her own, her legs holding him tightly inside her, and the rhythm drove them both upward, spiraling toward release.

  She felt him shatter and a moment later she joined him as their bodies flung them out of their lives for a moment of magic and wonder.

  They fell back to reality in a sweaty, panting heap.

  —

  JOSH rolled onto his back, his body limp with satiation, and he reached out his hand to find Katrina’s. “You good?”

  “I’m good. You?”

  He rolled over to face her and kissed her on the nose. “Way more than good. Thank you, it’s been a while.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Something about her expression worried him. “You’re not going to go all weird on me, are you?”

  “Weird? No. Of course not.” She swung her legs out of the bed and tugged hard, stealing the top sheet. Wrapping it around her, she started searching quickly for her clothes.

  He had an inexplicable feeling of sadness that she’d gotten out of bed so fast. “So this isn’t you acting weird and desperate to get out of here because you’re regretting we had sex?”

  “This is me being late for work at the diner.” She threw his boxers at him. “And if you don’t want to be running behind all day, you’d be acting weird, too.”

  He looked at the clock. “Shit. How did it get to be seven thirty?”

  “I know, right,” she said, pulling on a scrap of lace that barely qualified as underwear. “I’d expected a quickie, but you’re not so quick.”

  He caught her around the waist and pulled her back against him, burying his face in her neck. “But I’m thorough.”

  She half laughed and half sighed, and her body slackened against his for a fraction of a second before she leaned forward and pulled on a sock. “You are so full of yourself.”

  “Only with the important things.” His phone rang and he had to let her go to answer it. “Josh Stanton.”

  As the night nurse from the hospital gave him an inpatient report, Katrina finished dressing and plonked the rest of his clothes on the bed. She mouthed the word bye.

  Before he could say anything, she’d run down the stairs. By the time he’d gotten off the phone, she’d left the property. His phone rang again. It was time to face Monday, and hell, for the first time since arriving in Bear Paw, he was looking forward to it.

  —

  SHANNON hadn’t worked the early-morning breakfast shift at the diner since Katrina had starting working for her, but this morning, she’d been late. So late that Shannon had opened up and started cooking. Katrina had arrived forty minutes later, flushed, flustered and profusely apologetic. Since then, she’d worked solidly and without a break for the next three hours.

  Now that the rush was over and the morning coffee seniors had left, Shannon took advantage of the lull and made coffee for them both.

  “I’m really sorry,” Katrina said for the tenth time. “I know you like to be home in the mornings to see Hunter out the door.”

  Shannon waved away her apology. “Hunter wolfed down your pancakes and got to school on time, so stop apologizing.”

  “I’ll try.” She sipped her latte and sighed. “The last eight days have been crazy.”

  “I know, right? I feel guilty that Sam Duckett’s accident has been the best thing that’s ever happened to the diner. I think everyone in the district has bought a coffee and a sli
ce of pie just to talk to you about it and ask questions. You’re my star attraction.”

  “Not anymore. It’s a new week and Bethany was all over Twitter this morning with a photo of a bright light she saw in the sky last night, so now the town’s on UFO watch.” Katrina sipped her coffee. “With working opposite shifts, I haven’t really seen you to ask, but did you have a good time at your first branding?”

  Embarrassment seeped into every cell, and Shannon worked hard at not burying her face in her hands. Every time she thought about her ditzy behavior that seemed to come out of nowhere whenever she spoke to Beau McCade, she burned with shame. Heaven help her, she’d sung a television theme song.

  She had no idea what the heck was wrong with her, but all it took was one glimpse of his serious but handsome face, his wide shoulders and rippling muscles, and she not only developed verbal diarrhea, she sounded like a total blonde. Granted, she was blond, but with everyone else in town she was a sensible woman—a business owner and the responsible mother of a teen. But with Beau, she sounded vacant, and his short responses confirmed he thought so, too. She’d blabbed on so much at the branding lunch that the poor guy had offered to help Hunter out just to get away from her. She’d consoled herself the rest of the afternoon by stealing surreptitious glances of Beau on horseback.

  “I sure did enjoy myself. Thank you so much for inviting Hunter and me. It got me thinking, though . . .”

  Katrina put her mug down. “How’s that?”

  “In comparison to branding and to how you and Josh treated Sam, making coffee must seem pretty dull.”

  “Oh, I don’t know . . .” Katrina ran her finger distractedly around the rim of her coffee cup. “Sometimes a girl needs dull.”

  “Dull’s safer, for sure.”

  Katrina’s head jerked up. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

  Shannon liked Katrina, and since moving to Bear Paw she’d been working so hard she hadn’t had the time to make any friends. Not that she usually self-disclosed much at all, but today it felt right. “Back in the day, I had this thing for bad boys. Let’s just say it took me a while, but I finally worked out they don’t mix so good with a kid, so I gave them up.”

  A deep line creased the bridge of Katrina’s nose. “But what about good guys?”

  “I never met one to give up.”

  A stunned look crossed her face. “That’s so sad.”

  Shannon didn’t want sympathy. “Hunter’s my priority right now.”

  “I get that, but I want you to know, Shannon, that some of the guys you met at the branding are good men.”

  She thought about every guy she’d been with since she was seventeen and had trouble making connections. “You’re telling me they actually exist?”

  “Of course they do. My dad’s a good guy. Ty Garver is a great guy.”

  What about Beau? She pulled her mind back fast. Good guy or not, he was only ever excruciatingly polite to her, and even if he’d shown some interest, she had her hands full with Hunter. “What about you? Why do you feel the need to do dull? You’re single and there has to be someone in this town you can have sex with?” she said, enjoying the girls’ talk. “I suppose there’s Josh, if that kind of wound-up, tight-jaw tension is your crack.”

  Katrina spurted coffee out of her nose.

  She laughed and handed her a napkin. “Good point. If you got sick, he’d be your doctor and that would be totally awkward.”

  Before Katrina could respond, Shannon’s cell beeped with a text and she instantly recognized the school office’s number. Her heart sank. “I’m sorry, Katrina, but can you stay and do coffee for the Mommy-and-Me group? I have to go to the school.”

  —

  BEAU was driving back from the feed store. He had the radio blasting and was singing at the top of his lungs. His dog, Scout, howled in either protest or participation; Beau was never quite certain which. The irony of it all was that despite how bad and off-key Beau’s singing was, his stutter vanished whenever he belted out a tune. If he could go through life singing and only talking to animals, he’d never stutter again. Sadly, that would probably land him in the asylum.

  Sun glare poured through the glass, showing just how badly the outfit’s windshield needed cleaning. He squinted around the greasy residue and in the distance saw what looked like a calf on the side of the road. As he got closer, he realized it was a kid dressed all in black with a baseball cap pulled down low and he was trudging along the edge of the blacktop. The boy turned at the sound of the engine and shoved out his thumb.

  Beau slowed, wondering who he was. Town was five miles back, and a local kid would have gotten a ride from someone. He couldn’t imagine anyone from Bear Paw not driving a kid to the ranch gate. He applied the brakes and wound down the passenger’s window. “You need . . . a ride?”

  The kid nodded and then looked up from under his cap.

  Beau recognized Shannon’s kid immediately. “Hunter.” He leaned over and opened the door. “You lost?”

  The kid didn’t say anything. He glanced around at the flat, grassy plains that stretched for miles as if seeking an answer and then he seemed to slump.

  A thought struck Beau and a thread of anxiety wound through him. “D-did your mom’s car . . . break down? Are you w-walking . . . for help?”

  Hunter stared at the tops of his skate shoes.

  Breathe. “Is your mom . . . okay?”

  The boy nodded. “Yeah.”

  Relieved that Shannon wasn’t stranded or hurt, he wondered why her son was so far from the diner. He patted the seat. “Get in.”

  Hunter didn’t move.

  Beau thought back to when he was fourteen, which in many ways seemed a lifetime ago and in other ways only yesterday. The kid was out here for a reason, and he obviously didn’t want to go back to town, but at fourteen, he had no choice. Beau didn’t want to force him into the vehicle, but he had to get him in somehow, so he used logic.

  Stretching out his arm, he said, “Nothing but cows . . . and ranches that way.” He moved his arm forty-five degrees. “Rocky Mountains, bears . . . elk . . . and sh-sheep if you go there.” He pointed across his chest. “Canada but . . . they talk f-funnier than I do.”

  Hunter’s head jerked up, his eyes round as if he couldn’t believe Beau had just made a joke against himself.

  “So, buddy . . . I guess that . . . leaves Bear Paw.”

  “That blows.”

  Scout had edged forward and was now trying to get Hunter’s attention by sticking her nose under his cap.

  Beau was about to say, “Down, Scout,” when Hunter laughed. Maybe the dog was the way to get him to come back to town. “She wants you . . . to scratch her . . . under the chin.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Scout.”

  “Hey, Scout.” Hunter rubbed her ears with both hands, and Scout’s tail went wild, thumping hard on the seat.

  “She’s gonna wh-whine if you don’t come with us.”

  Scout barked as if she’d just read his mind.

  Hunter looked at Beau and then at Scout and slowly swung his backpack onto the floor and hauled himself up onto the seat. “Do you need any help on the ranch?” he asked, his voice full of hope. “I could do that first before I go back.”

  He felt for the kid, but it was close to suppertime and surely he was expected home. “I’m guessing . . . your mom doesn’t know . . . you’re out here?”

  Hunter stuck his face in Scout’s fur and didn’t say another word.

  Beau grimaced. A virtually silent teen and a stuttering cowboy. It was gonna be a fun ride back to town.

  —

  THE burning pain radiating from Shannon’s solar plexus was a constant reminder that Hunter was missing. Hours had passed since she’d arrived at the school expecting to collect him from the principal’s office for yet another infraction, but when she’d walked in, Hunter wasn’t there. Instead, a concerned yet resigned Gary Folger had told her that after lunch, Hunter
hadn’t returned to class. Then he’d asked her if she knew where he might have gone.

  After she’d ruled out home and the skate park, she’d drawn a blank. Despite her encouraging Hunter to bring friends home, he never had, and she wasn’t certain which boys he hung out with. If the students in his class knew where he was, they weren’t saying. She’d spoken to Mitchell Hagen, the sheriff, but he hadn’t been unduly concerned. He’d given her a critical look and asked how things were at home. She’d told him that home wasn’t the problem, but school was an issue. He’d said he’d keep an eye out for Hunter but that kids usually turned up around suppertime.

  Shannon had wanted to yell at him, “Obviously you’re not a father!” but she’d realized there was no point. Plenty of fathers took no interest in their kid’s life—Hunter’s dad being a perfect example.

  She glanced at the clock. Six thirty. Suppertime and still no Hunter. How much longer did she have to wait before the sheriff took her seriously? Hunter didn’t know enough people in town to be visiting anyone, and even if he was, surely their parents would be home by now and the boys would have been discovered.

  She heard the squeak of the back door and her breath caught. “Hunter?” Rushing into the hallway, she stopped short, surprise and anxiety making her dizzy. Beau McCade stood in the small and narrow space, completely filling it.

  He jerkily pulled his hat off his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Ma’am.”

  It made no sense that he was in her house and hope sprouted. “Is Hunter with you?”

  She heard the clatter of nails on wood and then Beau turned and she glimpsed a black dog with tan ears followed by Hunter. “Oh, thank God.” She pushed past Beau and wrapped her arms around her rigid son. “Are you okay?”

  Hunter tried to shake free of her maternal grasp. “I’m good.”

  “You’re good?” Her voice rose as anger skated in over relief. “You’ve been missing for hours, Hunter, and no one knew where you were. You can’t just disappear like that.”

  The dog barked at her loud voice.

  “Quiet, Scout,” Beau said firmly.