brides for brothers 04 - cowboy surrender

by Judy Christenberry

  Jake, still in his toga in spite of his plans, waved the last of their guests goodbye, except for Mildred, B.J. and Toby. He had made Janie promise to keep the Andersons there until he unwrapped his gifts.

  He’d been helped by Toby, even if the boy didn’t realize the favor he’d done him. B.J. had tried to leave early, but Toby had pleaded to stay until Jake opened his presents.

  He knew B.J. wouldn’t have stayed willingly. After that little scene in the kitchen, she’d avoided him. And flirted with the men crowding around her.

  With gritted teeth, he’d tried to ignore her. As he’d visited with his friends and neighbors, however, he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze from straying to her. And he’d provided an entertaining evening for his audience.

  They hadn’t hesitated to let him know about it, either. Ben had clapped him on the shoulder and warned him he’d better stake his claim before she escaped. Mr. Miller asked him when he’d be shopping for a ring. The pastor had hinted about another Randall wedding.

  Only one thing had kept him from losing his mind.

  B.J. couldn’t keep from watching him, too.

  Ceci and some of the other ladies had pursued him, teasing him about his costume. Every time one of them got close to him, he’d catch B.J. watching.

  Now, as he entered the living room, she stood. “We really should be going.”

  “Jake has to open his birthday presents,” Megan said. “You have to stay for that.”

  “It should just be family. We’re—”

  “Going to be family. After all, Red and Mildred are engaged,” Pete said. “And it’s not as if you have to drive a long way in the snow.”

  B.J. didn’t speak, only shrugging her shoulders. Since one of them was bare, that movement heightened Jake’s blood pressure considerably. He wanted to touch her bare skin, to slide his hand—

  “Well, Jake, aren’t you eager to open your presents?” Anna asked.

  He stopped staring at B.J. and smiled. “Sure. Where are they?”

  He soon had several small boxes in front of him. Inside one of them was a pair of good leather work gloves from Red and Mildred. “I’ve been needing a new pair, but these are almost too nice to mess up. Thanks.” He smiled at the couple, sitting together, their hands entwined.

  The next box was extremely light. When he opened it, he discovered it was empty. Raising one eyebrow, he said, “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Nope, but the real present was too big to wrap,” Pete assured him, and left the room. He returned only seconds later with a saddle slung over his shoulder. The leather was elaborately cut with flourishes, and the name Randall was carved into the back of the seat. Toby, half-asleep next to his mother, came awake and knelt on the floor beside Jake, running his fingers over the polished leather.

  “Wow, Mr. Jake, it’s beautiful!”

  “Yeah, it is,” Jake agreed. He looked at his brothers and their wives, fighting to hide the emotion that filled him. “Toby’s right. Thank you. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Toby, still rubbing the leather, said, “Someday I’m going to have me a saddle, too. And a horse. I’m going to be a cowboy, too.” He beamed up at Jake, hero worship on his face, and Jake felt his heart turn over.

  He didn’t care much for what he’d heard about B.J.’s husband, but he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. He’d fathered a terrific boy, and he didn’t get to be around to see him grow up.

  He pulled the little boy to him and hugged him.

  “Those are great plans, Toby. Maybe tomorrow we’ll try out my new saddle together.”

  “Really, Mr. Jake?” Toby asked, slinging one arm around Jake’s neck and leaning against him.

  “Really,” Jake agreed, grinning. Until his gaze collided with B.J.’s.

  She was staring at him, her hazel eyes dark with some emotion he couldn’t read. But he didn’t think it was approval, because those full lips that fascinated him were turned down on the edges.

  “There’s another present,” Anna urged.

  Jake picked up the last box.

  “It’s from me and Mommy!” Toby informed him, bouncing on his toes beside him. “I told Mommy we should buy you something, but she said you’d want this.”

  “Toby,” B.J. said softly, “I think you need to give Mr. Jake some room. Come back over here.”

  “He’s all right, B.J.,” Jake said, keeping Toby beside him, his arm around him.

  He watched Toby look at his mother for her approval. She gave a brief nod and a smile for her child, but when she looked at Jake, the smile disappeared.

  Removing the paper carefully, he lifted the lid on the box and discovered the old book. Carefully he took the Zane Grey book from the box and opened it. A first edition. He looked up to tell her how wonderful her gift was, but Toby, turning the pages, spoke first.

  “Mommy! Somebody wrote in the book. We have to get Mr. Jake another present. This one is messed up.”

  Jake looked at the page where Toby was pointing. The author’s signature jumped up at him. He slowly raised his gaze to B.J., hoping she could see how much the gift meant to him.

  “No, Toby, this is the perfect gift. That’s the signature of the man who wrote the book.” There were several gasps from those gathered around, but he ignored them all, concentrating on B.J. “Thank you. This is a magnificent gift.”

  She shrugged those shoulders again, and he thought he was going to explode. In spite of his enjoyment of his family, gathered around, sharing the moment with him, he wished he and B.J. were alone. He wanted to thank her again and again.

  And he wanted to hold her. To feel her heat against him, to stroke that bare shoulder, to feel her lips move beneath his.

  Chad moved to look over his shoulder at the signature. “Wow, I’m impressed. An autographed first edition. Where did you find it, B.J.?”

  She suddenly seemed embarrassed. “It—it was my father’s. Come on, Toby. Time to get you to bed.” She rose, had Toby by the hand and was halfway out of the room before anyone else could move.

  “Wait!” Jake ordered, putting his precious gift aside and rising.

  She stopped and looked at him, but he could tell he wouldn’t hold her long. Desperately he turned to Mildred. “Could you take Toby home? I need to speak with B.J. for a few minutes.”

  Red stood and pulled Mildred up from the couch. “We’ll both take the little guy home and tuck him in. Okay with you, Toby?”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I can—” B.J. began, but Mildred cut her off.

  “The least you can do is talk to Jake, B.J. He’s been a good host tonight. And he’s celebrating his birthday. Toby will be fine with us.” Without waiting for B.J. to agree, she and Red crossed the room and took Toby’s hand. “Tell everyone good-night, Toby.”

  He did as Mildred said, but when he got to Jake, he turned loose of Mildred’s hand and ran back to Jake to hug him around his neck. “Happy birthday, Mr. Jake.”

  Jake loved the feel of Toby’s arms around his neck. He hugged the boy back. “Happy birthday to you, Toby. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we’ll try out that saddle.”

  Toby gave him his megawatt smile that warmed his heart and ran back to Red and Mildred. After the threesome walked out of the room, his brothers and their wives hastily began making excuses to absent themselves.

  “It’s all right. B.J. and I will go to the barn. We need a little privacy,” Jake said in response.

  “It’ll be cold out there. There’s plenty of room in this house,” Pete assured him.

  “It’s not that cold out yet. Come on, B.J.” He didn’t want her worrying about someone walking in on them. And he didn’t want to worry about it, either.

  He wasn’t clear about the need to see her alone. He didn’t have any great plans. But he wanted to thank her for the incredible gift she’d given him. And he wanted to tell her she shouldn’t flirt with those other men.

  And he wanted to touch her.

 
; “No, Jake, we should talk here,” she insisted.

  He ignored her, crossing the room and clasping her hand in his.

  He led her to the kitchen, where he handed her her coat and grabbed one for himself. Then he took her hand again and led her to the door. Once they got outside, they didn’t waste any time. The cold wind pushed them along.

  “Man, I don’t know how women wear skirts in winter,” Jake complained as he closed the barn door behind them and switched on the light.

  “Your legs get cold?” she asked, her voice husky.

  “A lot more than my legs.” He grinned at her, but then his grin faded as they stared at each other.

  She abruptly moved away, wrapping her arms around her. “Why are we here, Jake? What do you have to say?”

  “A lot. So we might as well get comfortable.” He strode to the tack room at the back of the barn.

  “It’s late, Jake. I can’t stay long,” she called out, but he ignored her.

  Several blankets were kept in the storage room for late nights if one of them had to stay up with a mare giving birth or a horse that was sick. He spread one out on a pile of hay and kept the other to cover with.

  “Come on, B.J., sit down.”

  She shook her head no. “That would be like Hansel and Gretel bending over to peek in the oven. The wicked witch shoved them in.”

  “There’s no wicked witch here, B.J. But I want to thank you for that incredible gift. And I’d like to keep my legs warm while I’m doing it. They’re going to turn blue any moment.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to come out here. And my dress isn’t exactly suited to this weather, either.”

  “I know. It was a pleasure to watch you walk around tonight.” He smiled but he hoped she couldn’t read his mind. If she could, she’d be out of that barn faster than a charging bull.

  “Jake Randall! You can’t seem to keep your mind off—Never mind. You’re welcome for the gift. I have to go now.”

  “I have something else to tell you,” he said quickly. He breathed a sigh of relief when she turned around to face him again.

  “What?”

  “Come on over here and sit down. I’m not going to bite you.”

  She hesitated and then slowly walked toward him. He drank in the sight of her graceful movement, her silky hair, those long legs. When she sank down on the blanket, keeping several feet between them, he shook out the second blanket and let it fall over the two of them.

  “What did you have to say?”

  “Does your hair help keep you warm?”

  “That’s what you wanted to say?” she asked, almost outraged.

  “No.” He clasped her wrist to keep her from rising. “No, but it’s so incredibly beautiful, I got distracted.”

  “Hurry up, Jake. I need to get home. Mildred will be waiting for me.”

  He dared scoot just a little closer, so that he could touch her hair. “I don’t think you should’ve flirted with all those men tonight.”

  She jerked her head away, swinging her hair over her shoulder. “What? That’s what you wanted to say?”

  “Hear me out, B.J. I mean, you shouldn’t mislead them like that.” He was desperately trying to find the words to tell her the revelation he’d had tonight. A revelation that shook him to the core.

  A revelation he wasn’t sure he could handle.

  But he knew she was his woman. As much as he knew he was her man. Everyone in the entire county knew it, too.

  “I don’t think I was misleading anyone,” she told him icily.

  He leaned over and kissed her gently, briefly, unable to keep from touching her.

  “Jake,” she protested warningly.

  “Honey, you know you were. You and I—we’re perfect for each other. And we both know it. Whenever we’re close to each other, the rest of the world ceases to exist. There’s an attraction—hell, more like a cataclysmic explosion—when we touch. Like this.” He pulled her to him and let his lips do the persuading, the convincing. As always, when he touched her, she responded like the lover he’d never had. A lover who understood his needs more than him, who was as greedy for his touch as he was for hers. A lover who would never leave him.

  She opened to him, accepted him, invited him. Her hands stroked his cheeks, his chest, as his did hers. The sexy, bare shoulder he’d lusted after all night welcomed his touch when he shoved off her coat. As his mouth greedily devoured hers, he managed to bare the other shoulder, as well.

  “Jake,” she gasped, pulling away. “We can’t do this.”

  “Yes, we can,” he whispered, and covered her lips with his again. Hell, they not only could—they had to.

  Since her protest disappeared in a storm of caresses, he slid one hand up that devilish slit in her costume and stroked her long leg. She ran her hands over his bare arms, caressing his muscles until he thought they’d turned to jelly.

  Slanting his mouth at a different angle, he devoured her all over again. She tasted of the sweetest honey, the ambrosia of life, and he thought he’d die if he couldn’t taste her over and over again.

  “It’s not fair,” she whispered as his lips sought the secret places along her neck.

  “What, baby?” he asked between kisses.

  “Your toga doesn’t have any buttons.” She was stroking his chest through his costume, molding and shaping. “I want to touch you.”

  He briefly pulled away. “A toga has one advantage over jeans. It’s easily removed.” Pulling the garment up, he ripped it over his head and tossed it away, leaving him clad only in his briefs.

  She gasped, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, like a magnet, her hands returned to his chest, her gaze following her hands’ movement, and she smiled in pure pleasure.

  “Hey, aren’t you overdressed, Cleopatra?” he murmured. He’d pulled the other shoulder free, but her breasts were still covered by the white gown.

  “Mine’s not as easy to get off,” she protested, her gaze never leaving his body, her fingertips learning him as if she were blind.

  “I hope you like what you see,” he teased as he reached behind her for the zipper he’d seen earlier. In only seconds, he showed her how wrong she was about her gown. It joined his toga somewhere in the hay, followed by a strapless bra. He cupped her beautiful breasts in his hands.

  And knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer.

  As if by rote, he put his hand to his back pocket for the condom he kept in his billfold. After all, he’d preached care to his brothers for years. And once he’d realized how tempted he was by B.J., he’d made sure he was prepared.

  But he wasn’t prepared for wearing a toga.

  Damn!

  Breathing hard, he pulled back. “B.J., honey…I’m not prepared.”

  Her eyes, heavy with desire, opened slowly, and he almost lost control at the wanting he saw there. “What?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, her lips headed for his again.

  He couldn’t refuse the invitation. Not when he ached with desire, with the need for fulfillment. Not when he thought he’d die if he didn’t kiss her. Their tongues danced with hunger, stroking and pleading. Their bodies pressed against each other, as if to imprint their shapes.

  Their hands reached simultaneously for the last garments they wore, but that movement reminded Jake again of his problem. “Honey, I don’t have any protection. I didn’t think—”

  She ignored him, and his briefs joined the rest of his clothes. When her hands explored the last secrets of his body, he thought he would explode. He slipped her panties down her long legs, aided by B.J.

  “Now, Jake, now, oh please,” she pleaded, almost sobbing.

  Jake Randall, the sane, responsible older brother, the man who’d threatened and warned his brothers against carelessness, the one who’d planned never to put his heart on the line again, plunged into her, ignoring his own warnings.

  And found heaven.

  B.J. KNEW SHE’D DONE something terribly wrong. But she felt s
o good, so complete, that she told herself she must be mistaken. The demands of the day, a long, difficult one, coupled with the events of the evening, lulled her into a delightful place where only the warm body next to her had any meaning. Only the strong arms holding her were important.

  Until she woke up a few hours later.

  Something had disturbed her, pulling her from sleep. She snuggled against the warmth beside her, pulling the blanket closer to her. Arms tightened satisfactorily around her, and she almost drifted off to sleep again.

  Almost.

  Arms? Arms around her? Warm body next to her?

  Comprehension returned instantly. And with it a sick realization of what she’d done.

  Because as wonderful as last night had been, and making love had taken on an entirely new meaning to B.J., she’d made a mistake.

  She couldn’t have an affair with Jake Randall. For Toby’s sake, she couldn’t be so irresponsible. And for her sake. Because her heart would break in two.

  Even now, when she knew she had to leave him, she ached with longing. She wanted to have the right to awaken him and repeat the wonder of the night. She wanted to have the right to claim him as her own.

  But he’d already told her that was impossible. He had no intention of marrying.

  Even if he did, she’d have to say no.

  She closed her eyes, shutting out the vision of Jake Randall, his features softened in sleep, his face darkened with a heavy shadow of a beard. How she wanted to feel those stubbly cheeks, but he would awaken. She couldn’t risk that.

  What was she going to do now? Live next door to him and stay in the perpetual hell of wanting him?

  Leave, taking Toby away from his new home, his hero worship of Jake, his second mother, Mildred? Dear God, how could she have been so irresponsible? How could she have given in to desire at the cost of her son’s…and her…happiness?

  The pain her actions would cause gave her the strength to slip from beneath the blanket, to hurriedly but quietly search for her clothing and run from the barn into the early-morning winter of Wyoming.

  It was no colder than her heart.

  JAKE STIRRED, shifted against the blanket and reached for B.J.