Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride

by Christine Rimmer

  He drank in the sight of her. It occurred to him that he would never get tired of seeing her pretty, clean-scrubbed, earnest face. “My friend.” It came out low and kind of threatening, though he didn’t really mean it that way. “You want to be my friend.”

  She hitched her chin higher. “Yes. I do. I want to remain your friend, above all.”

  “What about that guy you’re going to marry?”

  “Collin. I’m not marrying Dane. And I will tell him that as soon as I get a chance to talk to him.”

  He wasn’t sure he believed her. “Why keep the guy hanging if you’re only going to say no?”

  “I’m not keeping him hanging. He asked me to think it over. I said I would. I have thought it over and I’m not going to marry him.”

  Collin still wasn’t really buying it, still had that feeling that this thing between them was only temporary, something born out of the chaos caused by the flood. Not the kind of thing that lasted.

  Which should have been fine with him. He’d never been a guy who worried about whether or not what he had with a woman was going to last.

  Because for him, it never did.

  Three steps separated them. He took the first one. Couldn’t help himself. Looking at her was like drowning in a whirlpool, the spinning current dizzying, sucking him down.

  And then, when he was only two steps away, well, he had to get even closer. He took the second step.

  And the scent of her came to him: sweet and tart and way too womanly.

  That did it.

  To hell with trying to do the right thing here. She wanted him and he wanted her and why shouldn’t they both have what they wanted?

  He snaked out a hand and caught her wrist.

  She gasped. “Collin! What...?”

  He pulled her to him, wrapped an arm around her. How could she be so perfect, so slim and soft and way too exciting, bringing the scent of lemons and Ivory soap to drive him wild? She stared up at him, her eyes so wide. Heat flared in his groin. “Right now, Willa, I’m not really thinking about being your friend.”

  That full mouth formed a round O. “Well.” Breathless. Hopeful. “It’s all...workable. Don’t you think?”

  “Thinking,” he said roughly. “Who’s thinking?”

  And then she lifted a hand and cradled the side of his face. “Don’t be afraid....”

  Another wave of heat blasted through him. He put on a scowl. “I’m not afraid.”

  “Right.” Soft. Indulgent. Way too knowing. Her eyes had that gleam in them now.

  He still couldn’t really believe she was here, in his house. In his arms. “You shouldn’t have come up here.”

  “Yes. Yes, I should have.”

  “Your brother warned you about me, right?”

  “Gage is willing to be open-minded.”

  “You mean he warned you and you argued with him.”

  “And now he’s willing to be open-minded.”

  “I know how you are, Willa. So damn determined.”

  She smiled then, dimples flashing. “I am, yes. It’s one of my most sterling qualities.”

  He bent his head closer, nuzzled her hair, breathed her in. Nothing. No one. Ever. Not like her. “Willa...” It came out harsh, low. Hungry.

  She clung to him. She felt like heaven. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his throat. “Yes.” She kissed the word into his skin, once. And then again. “Yes.”

  He put a finger under that stubborn chin of hers. With a sigh, she opened her eyes. He advised, “I should send you back down the mountain right now.”

  “Oh, but you won’t.” She clucked her tongue. Softly. “It’s much too dangerous, remember?”

  He pulled her even closer. “This is what’s dangerous.” There were a thousand reasons they should stop right now. He tried to remember at least a few of them, but it wasn’t happening. “I’m not the right guy for you.”

  “That’s for me to decide. All you have to figure out is whether I’m the right girl for you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Shh.” She put two fingers against his mouth. It took all his will not to close his teeth around them and suck them inside. “We don’t have to decide anything now,” she whispered. “We can just...be together, you and me. Just enjoy every minute we have, for now. Just kind of wing it and see where it takes us.”

  “It’s not a good idea, Willa.” He formed the words against the soft pads of her fingers.

  “Your mouth says one thing, but the rest of you is sending another message altogether.” She pressed herself against him, snugger. Tighter.

  He caught her fingers, touched his lips to them. Somehow, he couldn’t help it—couldn’t help holding her, touching her. Wanting her. “You’re getting pretty bold lately....”

  She lifted her mouth higher, offering it to him. “Must be the company I’m keeping.”

  That did it. He dipped his head and settled his lips on hers.

  She sighed in welcome.

  He wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her slowly. With care and attention and longing and heat.

  She responded by sliding her hands up his chest to his shoulders, by sifting those soft fingers up into his hair. By sighing her willingness against his parted lips.

  And by then, he’d pretty much forgotten all the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this.

  If she wanted to be with him, he could only put up so much resistance. After all, he wanted to be with her.

  He burned to be with her.

  And now, tonight, again, at last, he would be with her.

  He started undressing her, right there in the entryway.

  She didn’t object—on the contrary, she started undressing him. He got rid of her T-shirt and she returned the favor. He unhooked her bra. She undid his jeans.

  And then he lifted her high and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He set her on the bed and knelt to unlace her boots. He got one off, and the sock beneath it, and he was starting on the other one when she reached out and laid her palm on his hair.

  He looked up.

  She gazed down at him, her eyes and her mouth so soft. So tender. “Collin....”

  He kind of lost it then. He got her other boot off, ripped away the sock. And then she was clasping his shoulder, pulling him up to her.

  It all happened so fast. He got the condom from the drawer as she pulled down her jeans and panties and kicked them away.

  Her hands were on him again, pushing his jeans down. He still had his boots on. Neither of them cared.

  He rolled the condom on and then went down to her. He tried to take it slow, to make sure she was ready.

  But she tugged at him. She was so insistent, making tender sounds of need and encouragement, wrapping her arms and her long legs around him and pressing herself up to him, inviting him.

  What could he do, given an invitation like that?

  Accept. With enthusiasm.

  And he did. He kissed her deeply as she slid her arm down between their bodies. She closed her soft fingers around him and guided him home.

  After that, he was lost. Lost in the best, sweetest, hottest way.

  She was all around him, all woman and softness and heat.

  He surrendered. She moved against him, calling him down.

  He was lost in her. As his climax rolled through him, he couldn’t help hoping he might never be found.

  * * *

  When he could move again, he took off the rest of his clothes and pulled the covers up over them.

  They made love again, more slowly that time.

  And then, for a while, they just lay there, arms around each other, watching the shadows lengthen out the window across from his bed. He started talking about his Thunder Canyon relatives, about the wedding of his long-lost cousin that had taken place over the Fourth of July.

  She asked, “Why didn’t you go to the wedding with the rest of your family?”

  He stroked her hair. “I had work that needed doing. A
nd anyway, weddings have never been my kind of good time. They’re like family reunions—there was one of those going on down in Thunder Canyon, too, over the Fourth—both are just excuses for the old folks to ask me when I’m getting married and how come I’m such a troublemaker.”

  She laughed. “Well, when are you getting married? And why are you such a troublemaker?”

  “I’m not getting married. And troublemaking’s fun.”

  She wrapped her leg across him, ran a soft finger down his arm in a slow, teasing caress and whispered, “I think you’ve put a big dent in your troublemaker reputation lately.”

  “Naw.”

  “Yeah. Jerry Dobbs told me you talked old Mrs. Lathrop into putting her shotgun away and relocating to a FEMA trailer today.”

  He traced the wings of her eyebrows, one and then the other. “You know Mrs. Lathrop. She’s so, so proud. She moved back into her house, even though it’s not safe in there since the flood. We had to talk her into leaving.”

  “Jerry said you talked her into leaving—and that she had her shotgun on you while you did it.”

  “Jerry exaggerates. And is he the one who told you I’d gone on up the mountain?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Jerry’s also got a big mouth.”

  “Oh, now. You like Jerry. You and Jerry get along.”

  He pressed his nose against her throat. He loved the texture of her skin almost as much as the way she smelled. He also cupped her breast. Because he could. Because it felt so good. Because it fit his hand just right. “Stop trying to make a hero out of me.”

  She laughed again, husky and low. “Oh, I’m not trying anything. You’re being a hero all by yourself.”

  * * *

  Willa had decided to take the advice she’d given Collin that Tuesday evening.

  She was going to take it day by day. Enjoy being with him.

  And she wasn’t expecting anything. She was letting this beautiful, exciting thing between them unfold in its own way.

  She taught summer school both Wednesday and Thursday. In the afternoons, she met with insurance adjusters.

  She and Gage, as it turned out, were two of the “lucky” ones. Their houses would have to be taken down to the studs and rebuilt—but at least they had flood insurance. Too many didn’t.

  In the evenings, Willa and Buster went up the mountain, where Collin was waiting. Those two nights were glorious, perfect. Just Willa and Collin all wrapped up tight in each other’s arms.

  Friday, Willa got a call from her insurance company. They would provide her a rental car until the replacement check came through. After summer school was done for the day, she gave Gage back his truck and Collin drove her to Kalispell, where she got the keys to a green Forester.

  By then it was after six, so they stopped in at a little Italian place Collin liked. It was wonderful, to sit in a restaurant lit by actual electricity and be served crisp salads, fragrant garlic bread and piping-hot lasagna. She was feeling so festive she even had a glass of red wine while Collin enjoyed a cold beer.

  “I could sit here forever,” she confided when her plate was empty and the waitress had whisked it away. “It’s funny how easy it is to take simple things like restaurants and electricity for granted. I keep telling myself that I’ll never consider basic services as a given again.”

  He was looking at her so...intimately. A look that curled her toes and made her think of the night to come. “How ’bout dessert?”

  They ordered gelato with yummy waffle biscuits. Willa took her time savoring the cool, creamy treat.

  It was almost nine when they started back to Rust Creek Falls. The plan was to skip stopping in town and caravan up the mountain, but when Willa saw that the Sawmill Street Bridge lights were on, she honked at Collin, who was in the lead.

  He pulled over and she swung in behind him, jumping out to run to his side window. He rolled it down. “Looks like the power’s back on.”

  She felt like a little kid at Christmas. “I can’t believe it. I sat in that restaurant fantasizing about all the lights coming on. And what do you know?”

  “Let’s go into town. See what’s going on.” His eyes had a gleam to them, one she completely understood. He had that troublemaker image he sometimes hid behind, but she wasn’t fooled, not anymore, not since the flood. He loved Rust Creek Falls as much as she did. Every step toward recovery from the disaster that had wiped out half the town mattered. To both of them.

  She glanced across the bridge. It wasn’t fully dark yet, but the streetlights were on. “Yes!” She ran back to her rental car and followed him across the bridge.

  Main was blocked off between Sawmill and Cedar. They parked in the Masonic Hall parking lot. Willa left the windows down partway for Buster and they went to investigate.

  It was a street dance.

  They ran into Thelma on the corner. She told them that not only was the power back on, the landline phones were operational again, too. People had decided to celebrate by throwing a party.

  At least half the town was there. Several local musicians had grabbed their instruments and formed an impromptu band. They were set up on the sidewalk midway between the two roadblocks. Folks stood around, clapping and laughing. And the street was full of dancers, everyone spinning and whirling under the streetlights. Willa spotted Paige dancing with her dad and Shelby and little Caitlin dancing together. Gage stood over by Nathan Crawford across the street from the musicians. He spotted Willa and gave her a wave.

  Collin grabbed her hand. “Come on.” He led her out into the crowd and they danced a couple of fast ones. And then came a slow one. He pulled her against him. She went into his arms and closed her eyes and swayed with him beneath the streetlights, thinking how the moment was about the most perfect that ever could be: dancing with Collin in the middle of Main Street on the night the lights came back on.

  * * *

  The next day, Saturday, Collin’s parents and brothers returned at last from Thunder Canyon. They all rolled in to the Triple T in the early afternoon.

  Collin was in his workshop up on the mountain when his mother called.

  Ellie had a lot to tell him. She and his dad and his brothers and Dallas’s three kids hadn’t come home alone. They’d brought friends from Thunder Canyon, people who wanted to help and who had the kinds of skills that would be needed to begin to rebuild the south side of town. There were several members of the Pritchett family, who owned a carpentry business. And there were also Matt Cates and his dad, Frank, of Cates Construction, among others. Lots of others.

  “You come on down to the ranch for dinner tonight,” his mom commanded.

  He thought of Willa. He’d been indulging himself in a big way with her, spending every spare moment at her side. She’d gone down the mountain to help with a food drive at the church that morning, but she would be back around five. He’d been looking forward to that—to a quiet dinner, just the two of them.

  To another whole night with her in his bed.

  On the floor by his feet, Buster raised his head from his paws and twitched an ear at him. Collin bent and gave the dog a pat. It had just seemed a natural thing that Buster would stay on the mountain with him while Willa went to help out down in town.

  They were getting real...settled in together, him and Willa. He probably needed to dial it back a notch with her.

  But somehow, every time he thought about that, about putting a little space between the two of them, he got this ache in the center of his chest. It was the kind of ache a man gets when he’s making himself do something he doesn’t want to do.

  Because he didn’t want to dial it back with Willa. He only thought it would be better for her if he did.

  But not for him. Uh-uh. He liked it with her.

  He liked everything about being with her.

  He liked it too much.

  “Collin?” His mother’s voice sent his dark thoughts scattering. “You’re too quiet. What’s going on?”

  “Not a
thing. I’m right here.”

  “You come home for dinner.”

  “Tomorrow, okay? Tonight, I have plans.”

  “I said, tonight. Your family’s home and we want to see you. Bring that sweet Willa Christensen. I’m so glad you’re seeing her. I always did like that girl.”

  Swear words scrolled through his mind. His mom already knew about Willa.

  Was he surprised?

  Not particularly. His mom knew everyone and he had no illusions that he was the only one in town she’d been talking to while she was away.

  “Who told you about me and Willa?” He knew he shouldn’t ask. But he was kind of curious.

  “Are you kidding me? Who didn’t? She’s a prize, that girl. I never dared to hope. My own Last Straw and the dear little Christensen girl.” The Last Straw. It was his mom’s pet name for him. She always claimed it was only because he was the last of her children. He knew better and so did everyone else. She called him the Last Straw because he’d given her so much grief with his bad behavior and untamed ways. “I’m very pleased,” she added. “Very. Don’t you blow it with her, now. Hear me?”

  “S’cuse me, Mom. But what’s going on between Willa and me has got nothing to do with you.”

  Ellie sighed. Deeply. “Dear Lord in heaven, you are a trial to me. I only asked you to come to dinner tonight and bring Willa. Please. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  “Mom, I...” He let the objection die unfinished. He was talking to dead air anyway.

  * * *

  Willa’s cell rang as she carried a case of baked beans into the church’s multiuse room.

  She passed the beans to Mindy Krebs and took the phone from her pocket. The display read “Collin.” Her heart did a happy dance and she was grinning like a love-struck fool as she answered. “What?”

  “My mom, my brothers and about half of Thunder Canyon just arrived in town. Mom knows about you and me. And she wants us both to come to the ranch for dinner.”

  Willa couldn’t help laughing. “Collin. You should hear yourself. You sound like a covert operative passing state secrets.”