“Jake!” she protested. She’d been holding her breath for his cooperation, and all he could think about was kissing.
“How’s Toby?” he finally asked.
She shook her head, trying to follow the disjointed conversation. “He’s fine.”
“I haven’t seen him since we went shopping for his hat. Has he been wearing it?”
“No, he thought he should wait until his birthday.” She didn’t want to tell Jake how upset Toby had been that Jake could never be his daddy. She and her son had had a long talk about Jake Randall. She thought Toby understood now.
“Doesn’t he like it?”
“Of course he does. He’ll wear it in two days.” She bit her bottom lip, worrying about what he’d say next.
He stepped closer and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip.
She gasped and pulled her head back. Anything to break contact with his powerful touch. “We—we can’t do that, Jake.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Jake?” Pete called through the door. “Everything all right in there?”
B.J. felt the heat flame her cheeks as she realized half the ranch had been waiting outside the barn door to see what would happen. “Oh, no! Jake! Everyone’s been waiting, thinking—Who knows what they’re thinking. You’ve got to let me inspect the horse, or I’ll be ruined!”
“You’re being too dramatic,” he protested, but she read comprehension in his eyes. “Come on,” he growled, and turned to unbolt the door.
Pete moved back abruptly, almost as if he’d been listening. Over his shoulder, B.J. could see all the cowhands staring at them. She closed her eyes briefly and then tried to look cheerful.
Moving past Jake, she nodded to Pete. “Well, let’s get that ornery horse in a chute. I’ve got other animals to see when I finish here.”
“Jake?” Pete asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s okay. She explained what she was going to do.”
B.J. pasted a smile on her face. “His majesty has decided I know my business after all.” She walked over to the cowboys holding the horse, their ropes taut.
“You’d better get him in a chute before your arms give out,” she recommended. “Or before Jake changes his mind.”
One of the cowboys grinned. “Aw, you can’t blame him, B.J. A woman as pretty as you, it’d be a shame to leave any scars.”
She glared at him. As she turned away, she caught a curious stare from Butch. He didn’t return her smile. Instead, he walked over to Jake.
She turned her attention to the horse. She’d made up her mind she was only going to concentrate on animals. She didn’t want anything to do with cowboys, even one as nice as Butch.
And some of them, not to name names, could be as ornery as that horse. And just as hard to understand.
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID there was nothing between you and B.J.,” Butch said in a low voice.
Jake, watching every move B.J. made, his mind concentrating on her safety, scarcely heard him. “Hmm?”
“Did you two have a fight? Is that why you told me she wasn’t your woman?” Butch persisted.
Jake jerked around as Butch’s questions finally penetrated his head. “Why do you say that?”
Butch gave him a look of disgust. “Because you came out of the barn without a black eye. I figure there’s something going on if she let you get away with slinging her over your shoulder.”
Feeling the blood heat his cheeks, Jake aimed for the simplest answer. “Yeah, we had a fight.”
Butch nodded stiffly and walked away. Jake turned his attention back to B.J., following her and the men leading the difficult horse to an outdoor corral with a chute. But he saw Butch talking to several of the other hands. One of his men grinned and gave him the high sign, and he wondered what Butch had told them.
After B.J. had completed her examination, she walked right by Jake without saying a word. But Jake had had time to think about something that had been said earlier.
Reaching out, he again pulled her to a halt. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“I thought we’d probably spoken too much to each other already today,” she said, not looking at him.
“Or maybe not enough. What’s this about you dining with Butch?” He knew he didn’t have the right to question her movements, but he had to know.
As he expected, she stiffened beneath his hold. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
He sighed. “I know. But Butch is an old friend who just ended a messy relationship. He’s vulnerable right now.” He got her attention; that was for sure. She swung around to face him, putting her hands on her hips, which pulled apart her jean jacket. He couldn’t keep from staring at her breasts beneath her plaid shirt.
“All he did was sit at our table for dinner so he wouldn’t have to eat alone!” she protested indignantly.
“Just be careful. It doesn’t take much heat from you, lady, to start a forest fire.” He reached out and traced the curve of her cheek, unable to resist touching her.
She stepped away. “Jake, don’t,” she whispered. “Everyone is watching.”
“I know. And that’s why I’m going to give you a little kiss—just a friendly one—so everyone will know the Randalls and the Andersons are on good terms. Don’t make a scene.”
That really was his intent. After all, she had expressed concern about how the county might perceive their relationship. But once his lips met hers, all caution, all planning, all good intentions went out the window. Desire, lust…good feelings replaced them, and he deepened the kiss, sweeping her into his arms.
His uninhibited crew cheered, as they had that first morning out in the pasture, and B.J. wrenched her lips from his. She didn’t leave, however. Instead, she buried her face in his shirt and muttered, “I’m going to kill you, Jake Randall. That wasn’t a friendly kiss.”
“Well, sweetheart, it sure wasn’t hostile…on either of our parts.”
His sarcasm accomplished what his kiss hadn’t. She jerked away from him and quickly strode to her truck parked near the barn. The dust flew as she backed up, then roared down the driveway.
Jake stood staring after her, knowing that he should’ve apologized instead of upsetting her even more. He almost jumped out of his skin when one of the cowboys slapped him on the back.
“Glad to see you and B.J. made up, boss. We were all pulling for you. She is one fine lady.”
The man moved on without waiting for a response, but several other men grinned and waved as if agreeing with him.
“Quite a little show this morning, brother,” Pete murmured as he came up beside him. “The girls are going to love hearing about this.”
Jake grabbed his brother’s jacket front. “You can’t tell them!”
“Oh, yes, I can. When they hear about this—and you know they will—and realize I didn’t tell them, Janie will have my head. Or even worse, make me sleep on the couch.” Pete paused to grin. “As much as I love you, Jake, I’m not willing to make that big a sacrifice.”
No, and Jake couldn’t blame him. If Jake had the right to sleep with B.J., he wouldn’t give it up, either.
“Besides,” Pete added, distracting him, “maybe this news will cheer up Red. His biscuits were so flat and hard this morning, I almost broke off a tooth.”
Jake watched his brother saunter away, a grin still on his face. He had a point. Red had been depressed ever since B.J. had told Mildred the truth. Red wouldn’t talk about any decisions he and Mildred had come to, but it was obvious things weren’t as rosy as they had been.
But B.J. wouldn’t be happy that the two of them were the hot topic of gossip in the county. Even if that hadn’t been his intention, he knew his behavior this morning was responsible for everyone thinking they’d had a fight and then made up.
Man, she really was going to kill him.
EVERYWHERE B.J. WENT that afternoon, she faced knowing smiles and sly innuendo about her and Jake. As best she could, she dis
counted any talk of the future, but frequently the best thing she could do was say nothing. Otherwise, it would be a case of protesting too much.
When she stopped by the post office to buy stamps, Mrs. Miller beamed at her.
“I hear things are looking up at the Randall spread,” the woman said, grinning from ear to ear.
B.J. smiled and asked for two books of stamps.
“A big thaw has set in, I hear,” the woman said, trying again.
“Really? I heard we’ve got a norther heading our way, the first real big one of the season.” She waited impatiently for Mrs. Miller to count out her change.
“Oh, you are a sly one, you are. But don’t let Jake Randall slip through your fingers, young lady. There’s too long a line waiting in case you blow it.”
“Thank you for the stamps, Mrs. Miller.” It was hard to return the woman’s smile, but B.J. did. After all, at least things were better with this new rumor. For the past week, everywhere she went, she’d received comforting, sympathetic smiles, as if Jake had dumped her.
Her heart was not broken!
Not really. After all, she had no intention of marrying again. Her first marriage had been…nice, but her husband had been driven by the urge to make money. He hadn’t been all that interested in Toby or spending quiet evenings at home. There was a fear buried deep inside her that if Darrell hadn’t died so young, she would be a divorcée now rather than a widow.
She shook off her disturbing thoughts and tried to figure out what could be done about the situation she was now in, playing the role of Jake’s lover. Because there was no doubt that was what the community thought. The men had given her knowing grins, and the women’s remarks, about Jake and his reputed prowess with women, were downright embarrassing.
Especially when truthfully, she could only agree with them.
The moment he touched her, she melted like a Sno-Kone in the middle of a hot summer day.
It hadn’t been that way with Darrell. Sex had been a part of their marriage, but B.J. hadn’t hungered for his touch as she did for Jake’s.
“It’s probably because you haven’t had sex in four years,” she told herself in disgust.
Maybe she should go ahead and have an affair with him, as he’d suggested, and get him out of her system.
She almost drove off the road as she realized what she’d just thought. She must be losing her mind. An affair with Jake Randall could only bring heartache.
And what would it do to little Toby? His hopes would be raised again. And then dashed. Because Jake Randall wasn’t misleading her. He didn’t intend to marry again, and he’d made that fact perfectly clear.
Besides, as much as Jake valued the “right” blood inheriting his family’s ranch, even if he wanted to marry her—a joke if there ever was one—she couldn’t accept. She wouldn’t allow Toby to be considered a second-class citizen, not in his own home.
She pulled the truck to a halt in front of her house, weary from her mental debates as much as from her work. And now she had to face the troubled looks Mildred gave her. Ever since she’d told her the truth, Mildred had refused to talk about her marriage to Red.
B.J. didn’t know if she’d told Red she couldn’t marry him or if she was going ahead with the marriage. Unhappily. B.J. hoped Red and Mildred would marry. But she hated herself for taking away Mildred’s joy about her union.
Swinging open the door, she was stepping out of the truck when the one person she wanted to avoid appeared beside her.
“What do you want?” she snapped quickly, almost getting back in the truck again.
“I need to talk to you before you go in,” Jake said. He kept a circumspect distance of several feet between them, but B.J. could feel the pull his presence always brought.
That was the major problem with Jake. It wasn’t that he touched her. It was that she wanted him to touch her. Desperately. Now she could understand addiction. She had the same problem, only her addiction was for the touch of a sexy, hardheaded cowboy.
“What about?” she asked cautiously, determined to keep her head.
“Lucy called,” he said, naming their dinner companions of last week. “She, uh, she’s invited all the Randalls over for dinner tonight.”
“You need me to baby-sit the twins?” That was the only connection she could make. After all, she wasn’t a Randall. And wasn’t likely to become one.
Jake took his hat off and ran a big hand through his hair. “Not exactly. Mildred and Red are going to be the baby-sitters.”
“Fine. Toby and I can manage without Mildred. I’ve been telling her that for the past week.” She hadn’t meant to sound so irritated, but she did.
“B.J., I’m sorry about this morning.”
His apology surprised her. And made her feel sad. She didn’t want him to be sorry he’d tried to protect her. “It’s okay. I should’ve explained right away.”
He grinned, and she had to fight the urge to trace his lips with her fingers. When Jake Randall smiled at her, she had trouble thinking.
“We both know there’s some kind of weird chemistry going on here. Like magnets or something. We don’t always act rational around each other.”
She nodded. What could she say?
“Look, B.J.—Ben and Lucy are friends. We’ve known Ben for forever, and Lucy almost as long.”
She nodded again. Where was this story going?
“Lucy was all happy. She’s pregnant, you know.”
“I know, Jake. I was there when they told us, remember?”
He put his hat back on his head and grabbed her hands. “This is kind of hard to explain.” His gaze didn’t meet hers, and she felt her stomach turn into knots.
“What is?”
“What happened. You see, she and Ben wanted to have us all over to—to celebrate the baby, and my birthday, and all the changes going on over here. Kind of a party.”
B.J. wasn’t sure she could take being this close to him much longer. In an attempt to hurry his story along, she said, “I get the picture. What’s the problem?”
“One of the things she wanted to celebrate was…us.”
B.J. stared at him. “Us? As in you and me?”
“Yeah.”
“Jake, there is no you and me. Remember? It was a silly game that we agreed not to play anymore.” Panic was filling her. She’d fought this battle, mostly with herself, once before. She didn’t want to go through it again.
“Honey, I couldn’t tell her that. And after this morning, everyone believes we had a fight and then made up. I didn’t know what to say.”
Drawing a deep breath, praying for control, she asked, “And what exactly did you say?”
“I said we, you and me, would be happy to come to dinner tonight with the rest of my family.”
Chapter Twelve
B.J. gasped, her mind skittering in a dozen different directions as she tried to think of a response. “You didn’t—Jake, that’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Don’t you get it? If we go over there as a couple, we’ll be right back where we were a week ago.” And she’d have to resist temptation all over again. The past week may have been dull without Jake, but at least it had been simple.
“We’re already there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you, everyone thinks we had a fight and now we’ve made up.” His gaze didn’t quite meet hers, and his cheeks were flooded with color.
“Why does everyone think that? I know you—we kissed this morning, but—”
“I was watching you, and Butch asked me if we’d had a fight and then made up.” He ducked his head before finally meeting her gaze. “I told him yes, without thinking.”
“But that was before you kissed me in front of everyone. Why would he ask that question?”
Jake grinned, even while he still appeared embarrassed. “’Cause the man said he figured I’d come out with a black eye unless you…cared about me.”
“I—I
—He’s wrong!” she protested, but she knew her cheeks were even redder than Jake’s. Because Butch’s words were true.
“Is he? Want me to show you?” He tugged on her hands to pull her toward him.
“No! I don’t need a demonstration. I was there the first time, remember?” She pulled her hands free and put them on Jake’s chest to keep him apart from her.
“Yes, ma’am, you surely were,” he drawled, his grin widening.
“Jake, you’re getting off the subject here. What are we going to do? Stage another fight? If I go with you tonight, everyone will assume…” There was no point in saying it. Jake knew as well as she did. “I just can’t go.”
“Well, I’m not telling Lucy. She’s been cooking all day and is excited about the party. And Mildred is the one who said you’d go.”
“Mildred?” B.J. gasped, feeling betrayed. “Why would she do that? She knows we were only pretending.”
“I reckon she heard the same gossip my sisters-in-law did. And they all believed it.”
B.J. closed her eyes in despair. “You mean they wanted to believe it. Didn’t you tell them we were pretending?”
“Nope. It’s none of their business.”
Her fingers were still resting on his hard chest, growing warmer each minute. She wanted to splay her hands against his muscles, feel him pressed against him. When she realized where her thoughts were taking her, she jerked her hands away. “Jake—”
“Hi, Mr. Jake.”
They both looked to the porch, to discover Toby leaning against the post, a wistful look on his face.
“Hi, sweetie, I was just coming in,” B.J. said, and tried to move past Jake.
He blocked her way, his hands going to her waist. “How are you, Toby? Your mom said you were waiting until your birthday to wear your hat.”
“I didn’t think I should since I’m not five yet,” Toby said soberly.
Jake grinned that lopsided smile that always caused her stomach to flip over, and B.J. knew her son wouldn’t be able to resist it. “I think you’re being a really good boy, Toby. I don’t think I showed such discipline when I was your age.”
Toby, as B.J. expected, returned Jake’s smile. “I’ve been really good, Mr. Jake. I haven’t had to stand in the corner or anything.”
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