The Husband List

by Cindy Kirk

  Though it probably wasn’t apparent to anyone at the table but her, Mitzi felt Keenan’s eyes on her. When she waited to eat until the hostess had picked up her fork, he also waited.

  She understood. For years she’d read and studied proper etiquette. If she was going to rise above her initial station in life, she had to be prepared. That preparation included knowing the correct way to set a table, what utensils to use and how to choose the proper wine.

  The last wasn’t an issue for Keenan. Unlike Mitzi and the others at the table, her pilot chose iced tea over wine. She sipped her glass of red and turned to him.

  “I’m warning you. After all this delicious food, I may be over the weight limit tomorrow.” She gazed at Keenan over the rim of her cut-crystal wineglass. “Be thinking of what we can leave behind.”

  “I’d say we could take a walk and work some of it off, but—” his gaze shifted to the large bay window currently being pelted by sprays of rain “—I think we’re stuck inside for the evening.”

  Apparently Jolene—of Sig and Jolene—had been listening because she tapped Mitzi on the arm. “We were talking before you two sat down.” Jolene glanced over at the other couple, who’d introduced themselves as Perry and Liz. “We thought it’d be fun to play a few hands of cards after dinner. Interested in joining us?”

  Mitzi wasn’t good at cards. She didn’t know very many games, and those she had played she barely remembered. Yet, she swallowed the excuse that had begun to form on her lips. What was her alternative? Go up to the bedroom with Keenan? And do what?

  Though she’d acted as if sleeping in the same room with him was no big deal, even as she’d issued the invitation, Mitzi had known she was playing with fire. There was no denying the sexually charged chemistry between them. Common sense told her the less time they spent in the room alone, the better.

  Sleep with him. No strings.

  The thought tempted, teased and was deliberately and harshly discarded.

  Not an option, she told herself.

  “It should be loads of fun,” Liz added, her smile warm and friendly.

  “What card game are you playing?” Mitzi asked.

  “Pitch,” Jolene said promptly. “Since there’re six of us, we could play ‘Call for your partner.’”

  They might as well have been speaking a foreign language.

  “I only know how to play poker,” Keenan admitted.

  Mitzi wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid—”

  “Don’t you two worry none.” Jolene waved away their concern. “It’s super easy to learn. My goodness, anyone who can make it through medical school or fly a plane can learn to play a simple card game.”

  It was close to eleven by the time Mitzi and Keenan stood, despite the protests of the other couples, to head upstairs.

  Though the rain continued to beat a relentless rhythm against the windows and the sides of the house, inside it remained dry and cozy.

  “Simple game, my ass,” Keenan muttered once they left the dining room.

  Mitzi offered him a sympathetic look. “Forget Jolene’s whining. Bidding seven on an ace then calling for the three wasn’t reckless.”

  Keenan unexpectedly smiled, looking surprisingly pleased with himself. “If she could have gotten to me with that number two scoring pencil, I think she’d have stabbed me.”

  “My impression,” Mitzi told him as she stepped aside and he unlocked the bedroom door with the old-fashioned key, “is that Jolene likes to complain. Still, seeing her give you the stink-eye was amusing.”

  Keenan grimaced and dropped into a nearby chair. “Playing was fun for a while. Toward the last I was ready to be done with it. There seemed to be no end in sight.”

  “You deliberately went set.” The realization washed over her. “And took Jolene down with you.”

  “The fact she had the three was icing on the cake.” He kicked off his boots, propped his feet up on a hassock topped with needlepoint. His lips spread in a wide grin. “No need to thank me.”

  Impulsively, Mitzi crossed the room and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Thank you, anyway.”

  His hazel eyes focused on her as she sauntered away. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Shower.” She scooped up a white nightie from the bed. “Knowing we didn’t have anything to sleep in, Mrs. Thompsett gave you pajamas and me a nightgown.”

  “I don’t wear pajamas,” he called out.

  “You do tonight,” Mitzi said and pulled the bathroom door shut.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The warm water from the shower relaxed Mitzi and the rose-scented lotion soothed her skin. She slipped into the white nightgown, relieved to discover it wasn’t quite as sheer as she first feared.

  Of course, the safest thing would probably be to sleep in her clothes. Safe. She snorted. How ridiculous to have reached the ripe old age of thirty-four and be apprehensive about spending the night with a man.

  If they had sex, it would be because she decided to have sex with Keenan. And that, she told herself, opening the bathroom door, wasn’t going to happen. Not only for her sake, but for his, as well.

  Keenan passed her on his way to the bathroom. Mitzi noticed the pajamas Mrs. Thompsett had loaned him were still on the bed.

  Mitzi scooped them into her arms. “Heads up.”

  He whirled and the blue pj’s hit him in the face.

  “Don’t come out of that room without those on.” Her tone held a warning edge.

  Keenan grinned, lifted a hand in a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mitzi was propped in bed, reading a Home and Garden magazine she’d found on the bedside table, when Keenan returned several minutes later wearing the pajamas.

  His towel-dried hair curled lightly above his collar. She caught a faint floral aroma as he strolled by with the clothes he’d been wearing in his hands.

  “Love the new scent.” Her smile widened when he turned and scowled. “Such a manly fragrance.”

  “All the soaps were the same,” he told her, his tone filled with disgust. “Roses.”

  He placed his folded clothes atop the antique dresser inlaid with burl.

  “I happen to like the scent.”

  “That makes one of us.” He plucked at the two-sizes-too-large pajama pants he wore. “And these are a joke.”

  “Aren’t we Mr. Cheerful?”

  Rain hammered against the roof and a crack of too-close lightning shook the house.

  Keenan’s gaze jumped to her face. His tight expression eased into a smile. “You’re right. I could be stretched out on cold concrete in the hangar.”

  “Wait until you feel the mattress.” Mitzi patted the spot beside her. “Heavenly soft.”

  The look Keenan shot her was clearly puzzled. “I thought I’d grab a pillow and stretch out on the floor.”

  “Are you crazy? Why would you do that?”

  His gaze searched her face. “You don’t mind sharing the bed?”

  “Not as long as I get my half.”

  Keenan didn’t say another word. He flipped off the main light and hopped in beside her. The only light in the room came from a fussy bedside lamp that cast a golden glow.

  Outside, thunder continued to rumble, but the torrent on the roof had turned soft and soothing.

  It had been a long time since she’d slept with anyone, Mitzi realized. She and her sister had shared a bed for years. But once she’d moved away from home, she’d insisted on her own space.

  She’d never slept all night with the men she dated. Having a man beside her all night had always seemed so...intimate.

  When Keenan was in the shower, she’d decided it was time to break herself of the hang-up.

  After punching the pillow several times, Keenan laid back and closed his
eyes, his lashes dark against his cheeks.

  Good, Mitzi thought, just as she hoped.

  She flipped off the lamp, settled in beside him and slept.

  Several hours later she awoke to find an arm flung over her and Keenan’s hand resting over her breast. She started to slip out from under his hold, when his fingers began to tease her nipple into a peak.

  His touch felt so good she couldn’t bring herself to move away. Keenan continued to tease, to caress, even as his eyes remained closed.

  Her nipples strained against the thin fabric, eager for the touch. When his hand moved to her other breast, she repositioned herself to give him better access. He turned her in his arms and kissed her long and hard. The flame in her belly began to burn, hot and filled with need.

  “Keenan.” She breathed his name.

  He tugged at the hem of her gown. “Take this off.”

  Mitzi told herself to stop, to take a breath. To think. Was this what was best? Was this what she wanted? She wasn’t sure about the answer to the first, but she was certain about the second.

  She began unbuttoning the front of his pajama top, but he grew impatient and jerked it over his head. It hit the floor along with his pants only seconds later.

  When he pulled her close, she felt him, long and hard against her belly.

  His eyes were open now, dark and filled with need. “Are you sure?”

  She chuckled. “Little late for that question.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked again.

  Mitzi nodded. “You?”

  “Yes,” he said, not taking his eyes off hers.

  “Even if it’s just one night?”

  “Yes.” The palms of his hands moved up and down her body in slow, sensual strokes. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful, too,” she whispered.

  He had broad, well-muscled shoulders. She liked the way those muscles felt beneath her fingers, the way they rippled and responded. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a man so desperately.

  Though she didn’t fully understand this intense need for him, it didn’t change the fact that she had to have him.

  His mouth closed over hers, the kiss sweet and gentle at first then heating up as his lips lingered. She reveled in the feel of that firm warm mouth against hers, in the taste of him.

  The caresses continued even as he kissed her and drove her closer and closer to the edge with his skilled touch.

  Her body burned and there was only one person who could quench the fire.

  His touch was urgent, as if the same passion that burned inside her flowed through his veins. She cried out as the desire built to a fever crest, and he covered the sound with his mouth. With firm warm lips.

  She wanted to crawl under his skin, anything to get closer to him.

  “Are you protected?” she heard him ask, his voice tight with restraint.

  “Yes.” She managed to form the word before he drove himself into her.

  Ah, yes, she thought through a haze of mounting desire, this was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

  The thought brought with it a flash of worry, but she brushed it aside. For now, there was just her and him. For now, nothing else mattered.

  They made love two more times, then fell asleep, exhausted. She opened her eyes to sunlight streaming through the window and found him propped up on one elbow, staring, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable.

  Then he smiled and warmth flowed through her veins like warm honey.

  “Good morning.” He touched her cheek lightly with one finger. “You look rested.”

  Sated was more accurate. Mitzi stretched like a contented cat, noting with interest that Keenan was still naked. How...convenient.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She found his voice, gravelly with recent sleep, incredibly sexy.

  Mitzi had no doubt Mrs. Thompsett had a dining room table full of food waiting downstairs. But it wasn’t food she wanted at this moment.

  She leaned forward, brushed her lips across his and let the sheet fall to her waist. “I am. What are you going to do about it?”

  Because she wasn’t the only one starving, he pulled her to him.

  * * *

  They showered together, dressed and then went downstairs. In deference to Mitzi’s reputation in the small community, Keenan made sure to keep his hands to himself.

  It was a difficult task. He found himself wanting to touch her, to reassure himself that what had happened last night had been real and not a highly charged erotic dream. He wanted to convince himself that she had indeed wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

  They ate as if they hadn’t had food in weeks, plowing their way through wedges of cherry-stuffed French toast and crisp bacon. Orange juice so tart it bit his tongue and coffee that packed a nice punch.

  While his clothes were rumpled and disheveled, Mitzi looked like a princess holding court. Keenan admired her composure, the way she could appear so friendly, yet easily deflect any personal questions. Was this the real Mitzi?

  Keenan was happy when Perry dropped them off at the airstrip with a friendly wave and he was alone with her again.

  They found blue skies and calm winds for the trip back to Jackson. Steve had agreed with the decision to stay the night rather than fly back. And Joel, when Keenan had reached him this morning, had told him it was his choice to come in late or not at all today.

  “Do you have to go into the clinic today?” Keenan asked in a nonchalant tone as they approached the parking lot of the airstrip outside of Jackson. “Or see patients at the hospital?”

  “Actually, I’ve got the day off.” While she spoke, her gaze remained focused on the inside of her purse as she rummaged around in search of her car keys.

  “I’m going riding,” he said. “Tripp’s dad has been urging me to come out and give his horses some exercise. It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. Interested in joining me?”

  When she looked up and he caught her hesitation, Keenan offered an easy smile. “No strings. I simply thought you might enjoy doing something fun and out of the ordinary on your day off.”

  “It’d be out of the ordinary.” Mitzi offered an impish smile. “And certainly an adventure, considering I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  “The way I see it, an adventurous woman would never turn down an opportunity to try something new.” Keenan kept his tone light, prepared to go with the flow. “Are you in?”

  “Saddle up that filly.” Mitzi grinned. “This cowgirl is ready to ride.”

  * * *

  Had she lost her mind?

  Yes, Mitzi thought as she stepped from the shower, she had not only lost her mind, she kept losing it. Instead of pushing Keenan away, as any sensible woman would have done after a night of ill-advised mind-blowing sex, she’d compounded the error by spending the day with him.

  Riding horses had been a blast, she admitted as she dried off then slathered on lotion. The sun had been bright, but there’d been a slight breeze that had kept her from getting too warm.

  Keenan had kept the conversation light and innocuous. They talked sports and she discovered that, like her, he loved the slopes and preferred to ski the more challenging backcountry.

  Though neither mentioned what had happened in Delano, the fire that had sizzled between them now burned hotter than ever. At least it did for her. When Keenan had extended his hand to help her mount the horse, the mere touch of his flesh against hers had brought an ache of wanting so intense it had stolen her breath.

  If he experienced the same shock, it hadn’t shown. A fact she found both reassuring and disturbing.

  Then, as if spending the night and then the day with him hadn’t been enough, she’d accepted Kathy Randall’s invitation to return wi
th Keenan that evening for a family dinner.

  Of course, Tripp and Anna were part of the wide network of friends she’d socialized with since arriving in Jackson Hole. There was no reason to avoid them. And really, if she was being completely rational, no reason to avoid Keenan.

  They’d had sex. So what? They were young and single. They’d had an itch and scratched it. End of story.

  If the opportunity came up to do it again, there was nothing saying she wouldn’t consider it. Since she and Keenan had reached an understanding, he’d probably be cool with it, too. Until she found someone she wanted to seriously date, she was as free as the wind.

  The thought cheered her as she took her cowgirl shirt—poppy-red with pearl buttons and white piping around the pockets—from the closet. The jean skirt she planned to wear with it was already laid out on the bed.

  Bitty jumped up onto the four-poster and headed straight for the skirt.

  “No, no, Bitty.” Mitzi grabbed the kitten and pulled her close, stroking the soft fur.

  “There’s nothing wrong with spending time with Keenan,” she murmured to herself as Bitty looked up then raked her sandpaper tongue across the top of Mitzi’s hand. “I just have to keep myself from liking him too much.”

  That shouldn’t be a problem. Most men she’d dated accused her of having ice in her veins. Of course, they usually didn’t hit her with that zinger until she’d broken it off. It was her practice that once she was ready to move on, to simply tell the guy. She would never understand the ones who kept calling, trying to get her to change her mind.

  Ice in her veins? Though it seemed a trifle harsh, she could honestly admit there had never been a man she couldn’t walk away from and none whom she missed once he was gone.

  Mitzi thought of Devin, a fellow medical-school student. When they’d started going out, she’d made it clear she wasn’t looking for anything serious. He seemed cool with the arrangement, but sometime during the year he apparently changed his mind.

  When he’d professed his love and pulled out a diamond ring, she’d been struck dumb. Though she’d attempted to be gentle in her refusal, he’d become angry. Looking back, she accepted some of the fault for that...misunderstanding. She should have never let such long stretches go by without reminding Devin they were just friends. She certainly never should have let dating turn into an exclusive arrangement.