“You’re a little behind the times, aren’t you?” Gage asked, feeling an odd twinge of annoyance. They might be joking, but this was Kelsey they were talking about. “Men don’t marry women for their cooking these days.”
Cole and Keefe exchanged glances and then looked at their brother. “Why not?”
The perfect blankness of the question drew a snort of laughter. “I guess it’s too late to try and drag you guys into the twentieth century.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Keefe said. “Men want the same thing from a woman in the twentieth century that they always have. Food—”
“And sex,” Cole finished for him.
“What about intellectual stimulation?”
“If I want my intellect stimulated, I’ll watch ‘Jeopardy,’” Cole said.
“Companionship?”
“I get that from my horse,” Keefe said.
“Children?”
“I’ve got Mary,” Cole said, referring to his six-year-old daughter. “One’s enough.”
“I’ll borrow one if the urge for fatherhood ever strikes,” Keefe offered.
“So a woman’s only good for food and sex?” Gage asked them.
“Well...” Cole narrowed his eyes and pretended to think about it. He glanced at Keefe as if in consultation. “It would be kind of nice to have someone to clean the house.”
There was a long pause, and then the three of them burst out laughing.
“If Mom heard the two of you talking that way...” Gage said, chuckling.
“Don’t tell her!” Cole widened his eyes in a look of exaggerated fear. “She’d wash our mouths out with soap.”
“Worse, she’d give us that look,” Keefe said.
All three brothers were momentarily silent as they contemplated the power of Rachel Walker’s “look.” The combination of love and disappointment in that particular look had been enough to bring the most rebellious teenager into line and have him willing to do almost anything to erase it from her eyes. She’d never had to raise her hand to them. The look had been much more effective.
Cole shuddered. “Anything but that.”
“Anything but what?” Sam asked, arriving in time to hear his brother’s comment.
“Gage was threatening to tell Mom that she raised a bunch of male chauvinist pigs,” Keefe said. He moved his legs to the side of the chaise longue, making a place for his older brother to sit down.
“You always were a stool pigeon.” Sam frowned at Gage.
“Me? Who was it who told Dad that Cole and I were on the garage roof?”
“I was trying to save your miserable little hides,” Sam protested.
“After Dad got through with us, I don’t think there was a whole hell of a lot of hide left,” Cole said, smiling reminiscently.
“So what brought on the accusations of chauvinist piggery?” Sam asked.
“Cole and I pointed out that the primary advantages of marriage are having someone else to do the cooking and not having to sleep alone,” Keefe said.
“And someone to clean,” Cole added solemnly.
“I suggested that some men might look for other things in a marriage,” Gage said.
“What else is there?” Sam asked in a tone of blank surprise.
Gage groaned while Cole and Keefe hooted with laughter.
“If you ever tell Nikki I said that, I’ll have you all arrested,” Sam threatened, grinning.
“You’ve got her fooled into thinking you’re an enlightened male?” Cole asked.
“Yeah.” Sam’s eyes sought out Nikki where she stood talking with Kelsey on the back porch. “I’d hate for her to find out the truth before our first anniversary.”
The look in his eyes made it obvious that he adored his wife. Keefe nudged him with the toe of his boot. “You’d keep her even if she couldn’t cook,” he accused gently.
“She can’t,” he admitted with a grin. “Lucky for both of us, Lena does all the cooking.” Lena had fulfilled the roles of cook, housekeeper and part-time mother since Nikki was a child. They fell into a comfortable silence. The four of them had always been close. Their father, David Walker, had been a police officer. He’d been killed in the line of duty when his oldest son, Sam, was twelve years old and Cole, the youngest, was only seven. The tragedy had served to create bonds between the four boys that had lasted into adulthood.
It was Cole who broke the silence. “You know, it doesn’t seem fair. Not only does she cook like a dream but she’s got legs that make a man’s mouth water.”
“Who?” Gage asked, as if he hadn’t been staring at Kelsey’s legs himself.
“Kelsey.” Cole slanted him a look that questioned his sanity. “Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed her legs.”
Gage answered with a shrug. It seemed the safest response.
“You had your eyes checked lately?” Keefe asked without opening his eyes.
“Kelsey’s a friend of mine,” Gage said repressively.
“What’s that got to do with it?” Cole asked, giving him another of those questioning looks. “She’s a friend of mine, too, and I noticed she had great legs.”
“She’s Rick’s wife.” Even as Gage said it, he realized how ridiculous it sounded. Cole’s arched eyebrow made it clear he agreed.
“Rick’s been dead for four years,” Keefe stated quietly.
“Yeah, well...” There wasn’t much Gage could say to that, so he shrugged and sat up. He knew Rick was dead, knew Kelsey was his widow, not his wife. It was just that Gage still thought of her as being married to Rick, as being out of reach. Didn’t he?
Suddenly uncomfortable, he picked up his glass from the ground next to the chaise and looked at it as if surprised to find it empty. “I’m going to get some more lemonade and then get back to work.”
His brothers watched him walk away. Cole glanced at Sam and Keefe. There was a gleam of laughter in his eyes. “You think he hadn’t noticed Kelsey’s legs?”
“He noticed,” Sam said, his eyes still on Gage.
“I don’t think there’s much about her he hasn’t noticed,” Keefe added as Gage pulled open the screen door and stepped into the house and out of sight.
Gage had noticed Kelsey’s legs. Long and slim and tanned—it was damned hard not to notice them. Especially when she was wearing a pair of skimpy little cutoffs that left so much of them bare. He pulled open the refrigerator and stared inside but he wasn’t seeing the jumbled array of food. What he saw was the way the faded cutoffs molded themselves to Kelsey’s bottom, the smooth length of leg beneath—ridiculously long legs for such a small woman.
The word he muttered was short, pungent and almost drowned out by the sound of the refrigerator door slamming shut. Damn Cole for mentioning Kelsey’s legs, Gage thought, ignoring the fact that he’d noticed them long before his brother mentioned them. The thought made him scowl. What the hell had Cole been doing looking at her legs, anyway?
The sound of laughter brought him to the back door. Kelsey and Nikki were standing under the big oak, talking to his brothers. Nikki was perched on Sam’s knee, his arms looped around her waist, the picture of wedded bliss. But Gage’s attention was caught by the fact that Cole was no longer lying back on the redwood chaise but was now standing talking to Kelsey. Even as he watched, Cole said something that made Kelsey laugh, the sound of it carrying easily across the few yards to the house.
Gage’s teeth clenched, and he reached for the door, intending to go out and put a stop to... Put a stop to what? The question made him pause. Put a stop to his younger brother’s charming Kelsey? Cole and Kelsey? A couple? His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to roll the thought over in his mind.
Reluctantly he admitted that there was no reason the two of them shouldn’t be more than friends. As far as he knew, Cole hadn’t been involved in a serious relationship since his divorce five years before. As a single father, he was careful about dating, not wanting to let Mary get fond of a woman only to have her walk out of their liv
es the way Mary’s mother had. Kelsey would make a terrific mother for Mary, just as Cole would be a great father for Danny. Any sane person would be glad to think they’d found each other.
So what does that make you, Walker?
There was another burst of laughter from the group under the tree, and it struck Gage that he was overreacting, to put it mildly. A few laughs with some friends, and he practically had Kelsey and Cole married and living happily ever after. He shook his head as he pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. Obviously he’d spent too many hours in the sun today.
Chapter 8
Kelsey spread her arms as if she could embrace the structure that stood in the moonlight. She had her greenhouse. Two solid days of work, and the Walker men had built a piece of her dreams. It gleamed under the light of a full moon, built like the upturned keel of a Viking ship, arched and curved, coming to a peak at the top. It was a thing of beauty and it was hers.
There were still some details to be finished—benches to be built, heating and cooling to fine-tune, watering systems to install, and it would take months of experimentation to learn what she could and couldn’t grow but that was the fun part. The heart of the dream was sitting in front of her, solid and real.
“What are you doing?”
Kelsey started at the sound of Gage’s voice. She spun around, one hand pressed to her chest as if to still her pounding heart. He was standing in the kitchen, looking at her through the screen door. Recovered from her surprise, she gave him a smile that held a touch of embarrassment.
“I’m looking at the greenhouse.”
“At three o’clock in the morning?” He stifled a yawn.
“I was too excited to sleep,” she admitted sheepishly.
“It’s not exactly ready for you to start planting,” he pointed out dryly. The screen door creaked as he pushed it open and joined her on the porch.
“I know. But it will be.” Kelsey turned back to the greenhouse. In her mind’s eye, it was already full of greenery—seedlings for the garden and extras to sell. Maybe she’d even try growing some houseplants to market.
“If that isn’t just like an executive, always looking for new ways to make money,” Gage said, making her realize that she’d been detailing her plans out loud.
She laughed. “I guess I am CEO of this operation. Not to mention treasurer, head gardener, secretary and janitor.”
“Before too long, I expect to see your empire spreading up and down the state. Today a greenhouse. Tomorrow the world.” He swept his hands out in an expansive gesture.
Kelsey laughed again, but it sounded strained to her ears. She was uncomfortably aware that it took a conscious effort to turn her eyes away from his bare chest and the corded muscles of his shoulders. She focused determinedly on her new greenhouse. She’d seen Gage shirtless before. There was nothing unusual in that. If her pulse was beating a little faster, it was excitement over the greenhouse.
“I’ll settle for a little piece of the Santa Ynez Valley, thank you. I don’t want the whole state.”
“It’s probably about to fall into the Pacific anyway,” Gage said, nodding his agreement.
She smiled but the look she gave him was serious. “I can’t thank you enough, Gage. You, Sam, Keefe and Cole, all of you spending your whole weekend put- ting this up for me.” She gestured to indicate the graceful building. “I still can’t believe it’s here. And I can’t believe you guys did all this for me.”
“We had fun,” Gage told her.
It was nothing more than the truth, he thought, glancing at the greenhouse. It had been hard work, but he’d enjoyed himself and he knew his brothers had, too. And even if he’d hated every minute of it, it would have been worth it for the look in Kelsey’s eyes right now. She looked like a child seeing the fulfillment of a Christmas wish, her eyes shining, her expression bright with happiness.
It struck him suddenly that he’d never seen her look prettier. Her hair was a pale silvery gold in the moonlight as it fell in tousled waves to her shoulders. He knew what it would feel like curling over his fingers, strands of fine silk thread. Gage pushed his hands in his pockets, taking them out of temptation’s way.
Kelsey was wearing a soft cotton robe in a color that hovered between blue and green. It was ankle length, belted at the waist and modest as a nun’s habit, obviously designed for comfort rather than seduction. He’d seen her wear it before, but tonight he found himself noticing the pale wedge of skin visible at the base of her throat and the way the belt tied at the waist emphasized the womanly curves of her.
“I’m glad you like the greenhouse,” he said, needing to break the silence.
“Like it?” Kelsey shook her head, laughing at his understatement. “I love it!”
“Good.” The floral scent of her shampoo drifted to him, mingling with the warm, earthy smell of the gardens and the sharp tang of wood and sealant from the new greenhouse. His fingers curled into his palms, clenched fists pushing against the fabric of his jeans.
This was Kelsey, he reminded himself. He wasn’t supposed to notice things like her scent and the way the fabric of her robe clung to her body. He wasn’t supposed to remember how soft her skin was or the taste of her mouth. And he wasn’t supposed to think about what it would be like to kiss her again. Or how she might look stretched out on his bed, her hair tumbled over his pillow, her gray eyes smoky with desire.
“Oh, Gage, thank you so much!” Unable to contain her excitement a moment longer, Kelsey turned and put her hands on his shoulders, standing up on tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek.
Gage reacted automatically, pulling his hands out of his pockets and settling them on the gentle swell of her hips to steady her. It was not perhaps the best time for him to find himself with his arms full of warm, sweet-smelling woman. Not when that woman was Kelsey and when his thoughts had just been drifting down forbidden paths. And particularly not when it felt so very right to be holding her.
Too right, he thought as his fingers tightened, drawing her subtly closer. Her mouth brushed his cheek. Without thinking, he turned his head, and their lips were suddenly less than a whisper apart.
Their eyes met, gray crossing blue. Time stopped. They stared at each other, years of friendship peeling away to expose a deep-rooted hunger that had lain there, unrecognized, unacknowledged. Kelsey’s breathing took on a ragged edge. She shifted slightly, her body brushing against Gage’s, her fingers curling into the muscles of his shoulders.
Awareness slammed into them, sending thoughts of friendship and right and wrong spinning away. Gage felt hunger grab him by the throat, a need so powerful it rocked him all the way to his soul. In Kelsey’s eyes was the same need, the same awareness. Her body curved to his, softening in some indefinable way, bending to him as a willow might bend before a wind too powerful to resist.
He made no conscious decision to kiss her, but suddenly her mouth was yielding to his, her lips opening for him like a flower opening to welcome the life-giving rain.
She drank in the taste of him, the strength of him. So long, she thought. She’d needed this for so long, wanted him forever. Her fingers burrowed into the thick darkness of his hair, pulling him closer, and she realized even as she did so that he could never be close enough.
She had no idea how long they stood there in the moonlight, wrapped in hunger and soft night air. Gage’s mouth devoured hers, as if he were a starving man suddenly presented with a feast. And her own hunger was every bit as great. She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him.
“Kelsey.” Her name was a groan, a whisper of sound as Gage dragged his mouth from hers.
She felt a whimper of protest catch in her throat as she forced her eyes open and stared up at him. “Gage?”
The blatant hunger in her eyes was his undoing. He’d thought vaguely to end this before it was too late, before things went too far. But one look at her face, her lips softly swollen from his kisses, her eyes langu
orous and smoky with arousal, and he knew it hadn’t gone nearly far enough.
He couldn’t stop it, he thought, and a feeling of both exultation and despair swept over him. He had to have her. Come hell or high water, this had to happen. There’d be a price to pay later. He knew that but it didn’t matter. He’d worry about it afterward. Later he’d walk through hell if he had to but he couldn’t turn his back on this taste of heaven.
Kelsey saw the flicker of emotions chase one another across his face and she wondered what he was thinking, wondered if he was going to turn away from the magic of this moment, going to leave them both aching and empty and force her to spend yet another night alone. She held her breath, waiting.
“Hold on,” he said as he bent to slide one arm behind her knees.
Kelsey wound her arms around his neck and lowered her head to his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart as he carried her inside.
Gage found his way through the darkened house and into his bedroom by blind instinct. All his senses were wrapped up in the woman in his arms. He carried her to the bed, lowering her to stand beside it, his hands reaching for the belt of her robe.
He told himself he should slow down. He wanted this to last forever, wanted to savor every moment, taste every inch of soft skin revealed by the robe as it slid down her body. But the pulse drumming in his ears made it impossible to think, impossible to slow his hands as they swept the robe from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor to pool around her feet.
Despite the urgency he felt, Gage’s hands stilled as he looked at her. There was a small lamp burning on the nightstand, casting a shallow wash of light over the two of them, illuminating the curves of Kelsey’s body. She was perfection. She was the fulfillment of fantasies he’d never allowed himself to admit to having. She was woman personified.
And for this moment at least, she was his.
The very strength of his desire startled Gage into a momentary awareness of what was happening, of how this would change things. But then Kelsey reached for the snap at the top of his jeans, and he knew it was too late to stop what was happening. Need roared through him, hard and powerful, driving out the last tattered remnants of sanity, leaving only the hunger that pounded in his veins. Maybe it had been too late from the moment they touched. Or even before that, when he’d followed her outside.
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