Chapter 3
Cecily took her time driving to the one and only park in their small town, but she still beat him there. She used the time to scout an out of the way spot where they could remain undetected. Finally she found it and hoped he would be able to locate her truck in the remote setting she had selected. Only when she saw his truck pull in did she realize how it might look to him--as if she had selected a hidden spot in order to have an uninterrupted rendezvous with him.
“I didn’t choose this spot for its makeout potential,” she blurted as soon as he approached her truck.
He laughed and opened her door.
“I mean, I thought it would be more private back here. Away from prying eyes.”
He nodded, but still didn’t speak. Instead he set aside the bag of takeout food he was holding and put up his arms to lift her down.
She realized when he touched her that it was a mistake to let him do so. A thrill of electricity shot from her ribs where his fingers were pressed to the rest of her body, all the way to her fingers and toes. She wondered if he felt it, too, because he paused with her body suspended in midair and looked at her. He finally set her down and picked up the food. He turned away and headed to the shade of a giant oak tree.
What is wrong with you? Get hold of yourself, she commanded. She swallowed hard and smoothed down her flyaway hair. She could do this. She was no stranger to dating. While in Chicago with her mother, she had dated a couple dozen different men and kept them all chasing her.
“You’re a man of few words, huh, Marcus?” she said.
He threw her a smile over his shoulder but remained mute.
“Or is this some long, complicated version of charades? Walking Tall,” she guessed. “No, Silence is Golden,” she tried again.
“How about ‘stop chattering, Cecily, we’ve reached our destination,’” he said. He sat and began to set out containers of food. “Are you always this chatty?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked. “You’ve known me all my life.” She smiled and batted her long lashes at him. That had worked with more than one guy. More than a few of them had commented on her long and pretty lashes.
“There’s knowing someone, and then there’s knowing someone.” He leaned toward her. “I know you, but I don’t really know you.” His voice was low and intimate. A shiver worked its way up her spine, but she refused to acknowledge it.
She leaned forward so they were a mere two inches apart. “Did you hone these flirting skills at college? If so, maybe I’ll give higher education another thought.”
He laughed and sat up straight. “You’re a bad kid.”
She grinned. “Not anymore. I’ve reformed.”
“Why?” He handed her a sandwich. “Being bad is so much fun.”
“Being bad is a luxury I can’t afford. I have a ranch to run.”
He smiled. “Now that I understand. I think I’ve been a grownup since I was ten.”
She considered him as she nibbled her sandwich. She always assumed he had it all: wealth, power, good looks. It never occurred to her how hard he worked to get it, or that he had taken over responsibility for his ranch at such a young age.
“Then let’s be kids again, just for today. What do you want to do?”
“Make out with a pretty girl,” he said.
Her cheeks flamed. “Pick something else.”
He smiled. “Spoilsport. Hmm.” He chewed and looked around the park. “Let’s wade in the creek.”
“Sounds fun,” she said, and she smiled, too. “I haven’t done that since I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, Pops. I meant when I was a little kid.”
“Did you play outdoors a lot?”
“Yes, but I preferred to play house or babies or something girly. Kitty and Dante always wanted to read or search for leaves to press or boring stuff like that.”
“They seem happy together.”
She nodded. “Now that he’s graduated I don’t think it will be long before they’re engaged.”
“What about you, do you have a boyfriend?” It wasn’t her imagination that his tone turned crisp.
“Several,” she said and smiled unrepentantly when he frowned at her. She finished her meal and put her head back to soak up the sunshine. “What a glorious day.” She sensed his eyes on her. When she opened her eyes to look at him, he was watching her with the intensity she had come to recognize. She wondered what he was thinking when he looked at her that way.
“Come here,” he commanded. He took her hand and pulled her toward him so she was almost touching him. His hand rose to touch her hair haltingly, reverently. “Don’t ever cut your hair,” he said. “It’s beautiful. You look exotic.”
She wanted to say something flippant and funny, but words failed her as her heartbeat stuck in her throat and cut off any chance of a reply. Marcus was intimidating, and Cecily had never been intimidated by a man before.
“Cecily,” he whispered, touching his fingertips softly to her lips.
Against her will they opened and she kissed his fingertips. His hand slid to her cheek and cupped it. She could feel herself being drawn in to his embrace.
“Marcus,” she whispered.
He opened his eyes slightly to look at her.
“Catch me,” she said. Before he could react she jumped to her feet and darted away.
It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but when he did, he stood and took off after her. She was athletic and fast, and she had a head start, so she beat him to the stream, threw off her shoes, and plunged into the water. It was cold, and the shock worked to clear any vestiges of attraction that still lingered. She had to be careful. Marcus was not a man she could play games with and hope to win. She could not, would not kiss him again. Not when everything was uncertain and topsy-turvy. Not when she was poor as a field mouse and he had a serious girlfriend. Not when he was still mourning his brother. Not when she couldn’t understand the strange power he had over her; the list went on and on.
He sat on the stream bed to remove his boots. “You’re a tease, Cecily Blake,” he said, but there was faint amusement in his tone.
“I’m twenty,” she pointed out. “I’m supposed to be a tease, and I don’t have the luxury of your many years of experience.”
“You are just asking for it, aren’t you?” He pulled off his socks and stuffed them in his boots.
“No, I’m not,” she said seriously. “We’re here to have fun and that’s all.”
He grinned. “There are many different kinds of fun.”
“And you’ve no doubt experienced them all.”
He laughed. “Jealous?”
“No, I’m happy for you. When I’m old I want fond memories to look back on, too.”
He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Come here so that I may punish you.”
“Come and get me, but be careful on the rocks. I don’t want you to fall and break a hip. That can be dangerous for someone your age.”
He kept his gaze focused on her as he stepped into the water. “You must really want to be caught if you’re not running away,” he said.
Her smile widened. “Keep the dream alive, Marcus.”
He reached out his arms to her and then, a second before he reached her, he pitched forward and down. His arms windmilled wildly, looking for a handhold.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you there’s a drop off there, and it’s a few feet deep,” she said. She grinned as she peered down at him. He was almost waist deep in water after his fall.
He wiped his face and shook water droplets off his hair. “Better run little girl, because when I get hold of you, you’re going to get it.”
“What am I going to get?” she asked.
“Stay there and I’ll show you.” He pulled himself out of his hole, but she was already sprinting away as best she could on the slippery rocks.
He splashed along behind her, clumsy and oafish with his big feet and wet denim. “Are you part mermaid?” he asked. “How are you maneuvering these rocks so easily?”
In response she giggled. He smiled. Her laughter was endearing. He had heard her laugh many times over the years and never thought anything of it, but now he couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. His last few glimpses of her had been a study in sadness; life had turned hard for Cecily, and Marcus had the sudden urge to make it better.
When he was just about to reach her she screamed and threw herself into his arms.
“What? What is it?” he asked.
“Snake,” she said. She pressed her face to his neck. He looked behind her and saw the tail of a snake disappear into the water.
“It’s gone,” he said. Unconsciously his hand smoothed down her back.
She pulled her head back from his neck. He wished she would put it back. He liked the feel of her cradled against him.
“It was real,” she said defensively. “There really was a snake.”
“I know,” he soothed. “I saw it.”
She relaxed.
“Why are you so tense?”
She swallowed hard and looked away from him. “I don’t want you to think I’m chasing you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. She tried to pull away but he pinned her to him. “Chasing me? Cecily, you haven’t spoken one solitary word to me in two long years. I invited you today, remember? I’m fairly certain I would be thrilled if I thought you were chasing me.”
“Why? Why did you invite me?” Her hands seemed to be out of her control as they smoothed along his chest and biceps.
He kept his left hand on her waist, but his right hand slid up to tangle in her mass of dark hair. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you one day the last two years. You obsess me.”
She was startled by the admission and her face showed it. He leaned in to kiss her, but she held up a hand and pressed it to his lips. “No.”
“Why?”
“You know why. There’s an impossible gulf between us.”
“One kiss,” he begged. “Please, please put me out of my misery and give me one kiss. I have to know if it was a fluke.”
She was curious about that, too. Had that explosive kiss between them been some sort of error? Was it because he had just saved her life that their passion flared to such heights so quickly?
“All right,” she agreed softly. “One kiss.”
Her arms slid up and around him so her hands rested on the base of his skull. He used the hand in her hair to position her head at a slight angle, and then he kissed her. And then it happened. Cecily closed her eyes and everything went black, and then a brilliant white as something dazzling exploded behind her eyes. She couldn’t hear, she couldn’t see, but she could feel, and what she felt was Marcus. Marcus touching her waist, his hand in her hair and drawing her closer, Marcus’s lips pressed to hers.
One of them was trembling, but they were so enmeshed in each other that Cecily didn’t know which one it was. Maybe it was both of them. All she knew was that she was utterly incapable of pulling away from him, and he must have felt the same because the kiss went on, and on, and on.
The Cowgirl Who Loved Horses, Queens of Montana Bonus Book Page 4
