by Jane Porter
“Something like that.”
“I feel like there’s more to the story than you’re telling me.”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“You want to tell me?”
She glanced around, her gaze sweeping the deserted block, before she looked back at him. “Standing here on Church Street? No, thank you.”
He smiled crookedly, aware she’d just handed him his own words. “There’s nobody here.”
“Maybe not, but this is a story that requires tequila. Lots of it.”
“Let’s go get drunk.”
She blushed, laughed, and gave her head a firm shake. “Nope. That’s not happening.”
“Why not? I’m off the rest of the night, with nothing to do until tomorrow morning.”
“Exactly the problem. If I drink with you, cowboy, we’re going to end up in bed.”
His blue gaze heated. “Is that a bad thing?”
Heat washed through her. He wasn’t the iceman she’d painted him to be and the energy between them was dangerously electric at the moment. “It is if we’re not married.” She tried to keep her tone light but a husky note entered her voice and she liked the warmth in her veins, liked the way it felt to feel something, but she didn’t trust it. Maybe that was the biggest problem. She simply didn’t trust anyone or anything right now. “If we marry, you get all of me. But until we do that, I’m not sleeping with you, no matter how tempting it seems.”
“If we marry?”
Her gaze met his in the dark and held. She searched his eyes, searching for truth, for sincerity. “A lot of things seem up in the air right now, don’t you think?”
“Things might not be smooth sailing at the Wyatt ranch, but nothing’s in the air. This time next week, you’ll be Mrs. Joseph Wyatt.”
Chapter Four
Joe drove back to the ranch in a frustrating state of arousal. He’d forgotten what it felt like to actually physically want someone and he desired Sophie. She was beautiful, feminine, smart, interesting. But he also felt a strong need to protect her, and that need was problematic because he couldn’t protect her from the rigors of life on the ranch, and he couldn’t protect her from the loneliness that came from living on the ranch. Being a rancher’s wife required a lot of sacrifices and he was worried Sophie wasn’t tough enough for his life.
He worried she wouldn’t be able to handle his mother’s rejection, if the rejection continued.
He’d have some hard words with his mother if she continued to be so cold toward Sophie, and he dreaded that. His mother had been widowed young with four small boys and she’d never once tried to replace his dad. She’d poured herself into being the best mom she could, and she’d been a great one, a singularly devoted mom. In his heart, he believed his mom would come around. She’d eventually warm to Sophie. Sophie just needed to not lose faith.
Impulsively, Joe called Sophie as he neared the ranch. She answered after two rings.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” he asked, wondering.
“Just in bed watching a show on my laptop,” she said, her voice warm. “Are you home already?”
“Not yet,” he answered, distracted as he pictured her in bed. What was she wearing? Did she sleep naked, or wear real pajamas? And just like that, his body hardened. “Want me to call back?”
“No. You’re immensely more interesting.”
His pulse thumped, and his body hummed, and he very much wanted to get her alone. He very much wanted to have her all to himself. “Your program can’t be that entertaining then.”
She let out a gurgle of a laugh. “So, what’s up?”
“I’d be a fool not to realize you’re getting the short end of the stick. After we marry we’re not going to be living in town. Any friends you make will be a good thirty-minute drive away. You’re going to feel isolated at the ranch, and if my mom and granddad don’t come around, maybe miserable—”
“Okay, let’s stop there. Your mom isn’t going to make me miserable. Your mom just doesn’t know me yet, and when she does, and she realizes I’m not about to come between you two, she’ll like me. A lot. Your grandfather isn’t going to make me miserable, either. He’s not that kind of guy. He’s just reserved. Over time, he’ll mellow, and when we have our first baby, he’ll melt.”
“I just wish they were a bit more welcoming.”
“It’s fine, Joe, it is. I almost think it’s better to not wear rose-colored glasses going into this thing. We’re smart to be realistic. We’re mature adults. We don’t need a fairy tale.”
“But a little romance wouldn’t hurt. I think it’s time I took you out to a movie or maybe dancing.”
“We don’t have to go dancing,” she said quickly. “I’d actually just be happy having dinner with your family.”
It was the last thing he’d thought she’d say and he had no answer for that.
Sophie added, “I think it’s important we try to include them. It’ll be my fourth night here and I’ve only seen your mom that first night and it wasn’t a good first meet.” She hesitated. “I understand she might need time to get used to me, but she won’t get to know me if she and I are kept apart, and I worry about trying to move to the ranch with her not happy that I’m there.”
“Tomorrow might not work. Mom has a ladies’ birthday group luncheon tomorrow in town, and usually comes home exhausted. What if we try for the night after? Monday night? It’ll give me a chance to run the idea past her.”
*
After hanging up, Sophie crawled under her covers and pulled the comforter up to her chin. She’d been glad to hear Joe’s voice but he was distinctly unenthusiastic about getting Sophie and his mom together for dinner again. The lack of enthusiasm put an ache in her chest. She’d left a hard situation at home and it hadn’t crossed her mind that she might not be welcome on the Wyatt ranch. For some foolish reason she’d built the Wyatts into this family who’d want her, and love her. Instead they didn’t want her.
What if they never warmed to her?
What if there was always tension between Mrs. Wyatt and herself?
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the thought. Until this falling out with Sarah, Sophie had always been close to her family. She was someone that loved family, and needed family.
She’d just have to win Mrs. Wyatt over. She didn’t know how, but as Sophie drifted to sleep, she told herself she was up for the challenge.
But the next morning, when Joe phoned, he didn’t have good news. He said it was unlikely he’d see her for dinner due to his mom’s afternoon event, and she’d need some extra care after returning from town, but he could come in after dinner and they could go get a drink or dessert someplace.
“Sounds good,” she answered. “Call me when you leave your place.”
Joe did call when he was pulling away from the house, and Sophie told him to just drive to the bed-and-breakfast, park, and come in. “I’ve picked up some dessert, and can make coffee here. We’ll have pie in my room, if that’s okay.”
“Sounds good to me. See you in thirty.”
He was there in precisely thirty, and Sophie was waiting downstairs on Bramble’s front porch for him when he arrived. She watched as he parked his truck and then headed up the walkway.
She smiled as his boots thudded on the wooden steps. “Welcome.”
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said.
“I know. I feel the same.”
“How did you stay busy today?”
“I walked a lot,” she admitted, gesturing for him to follow.
She could feel him behind her as they climbed the stairs, his energy electric as always. He was so very male, and so physical and she found herself again wondering what it would be like to make love to him, and then she immediately panicked, because she wasn’t ready for that. She wanted to know Joe, and she wanted to kiss him, but there was this part of her that desperately needed to take it slow.
Her heart craved love and affection, but her
mind told her not to trust anyone. But Sophie couldn’t very well show up in Montana and keep Joe at arm’s length. He was expecting a wife. She’d agreed to be that wife. If only she had more confidence in herself… and him.
Inside her room she closed the door and her room suddenly seemed very small indeed. “You remember this room,” she said a little breathlessly.
His gaze swept the room. He nodded. “I do.”
“Nothing’s changed,” she said brightly. “I haven’t broken anything yet, either.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. Creases fanned from his light blue eyes. “That’s good. You know, it never crossed my mind if I should ask you if you were clumsy.”
“I’m not. You should be reassured.”
“I am. Thank you.” His smile deepened. “You’re nervous.”
“You already know me so well.”
Joe laughed, but the sound was husky and sexy and kind. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because I get excited to see you, and then I realize this is all so new and it’s rather weird—”
“It is at that,” he agreed.
“Is it too weird?” she asked, brow creasing, anxiety making her voice rise a little higher than she would have liked.
“Depends if you think a mail-order bride is strange.”
Sophie’s heart raced, and she realized her heart wasn’t racing out of fear, but adrenaline, and awareness, as well as a whisper of desire. Just by being in her room, Joe was turning her little haven into a physically charged space. He wasn’t even standing particularly close to her, but he radiated a potent masculine energy that made her tingle. Joe Wyatt was one rugged, handsome, appealing man.
Now if he’d just kiss her.
“It’s a little strange,” she whispered. “But as mail-order grooms go, you’re not bad.” She dampened her dry upper lip with her tongue. “You have all your teeth and a good head of hair. I really can’t complain.”
His lips curved, and a glint shone in his eyes. “You’re getting yourself really wound up right now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe you should just kiss me.”
“Maybe I should.” Joe closed the distance between them, and wrapped an arm low around her waist, bringing her up against him. Heat flickered in his eyes and then his head dropped, his mouth covering hers.
Just the brush of his mouth on hers sent darts of sensation throughout her. This kiss was different from the others. This kiss felt hungry and familiar and it stole her breath, making her head spin. Sophie melted against him, her arms wrapping around his lean waist, needing more, not less. Craving pressure, comfort, pleasure. After being so nervous, it was a relief to discover that the desire was real. There was relief in the heat and hunger.
By the time Joe lifted his head, she felt boneless and Sophie leaned weakly against his chest, vision cloudy, senses stirred. “That’s some kiss,” she murmured, still unable to focus.
“And that’s just hello,” he answered, cupping her face and kissing her once more, before letting her go. “I think you better distract me with some pie, or I’m going to find it hard to keep my hands off of you.”
“Pie it is, then,” she said, cheeks hot, body tingling, because as delicious as the kiss was, that’s all she was ready for. It didn’t worry her. They were still such a new couple, they were still getting to know each other.
But as she served the pie on the paper plates she’d bought downtown, Sophie pressed her lips together, her mouth swollen and sensitive.
He did kiss well. He kissed the way she’d always wanted to be kissed.
Did that mean he’d make love to her the same way?
Pushing the thought away, Sophie handed Joe his pie, and poured him coffee, and climbed on the bed. Joe sat next to her on the bed, side by side, backs to the antique headboard. Sophie kept stealing glances at Joe as he made quick work on his apple crumble pie. “I’m sorry there’s no ice cream,” she said.
“I like it this way,” he answered. “Ice cream makes the crust soggy.”
“I agree with you.” She stabbed into the crust and broke off a big chunk. “Hope you didn’t mind not going out. I kind of wanted you all to myself.”
His fork paused midair. His voice dropped, deepening. “You’ll give a man ideas, talking like that.”
She blushed and gave his big shoulder—which was also very warm—a little push. “So when was your last girlfriend? Has it really been a while?”
“Years.”
“What about casual hookups?”
“It’s been a while for that, too.”
“Why?”
“Marietta’s a small town. I don’t want everyone knowing my business.”
“You think people would talk?”
“I know they’d talk.”
She ate a bite of pie, chewing slowly, thinking about what he’d said. She, too, came from a small town, although it wasn’t as small as Marietta, and yes, people gossiped, but they gossiped everywhere, and why did it matter what people thought? “Do people’s opinions matter so much?” she asked, when she could.
“I’m just private. I’m not comfortable with lots of attention.”
“Have you always been that way?”
“Hard to say. Maybe not. A lot of things changed when my dad died.” He hesitated, then added flatly, “Everything changed. So I’m sure I changed.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“Seven.”
“That’s so young. I’m so sorry.” She looked at Joe but his features were hard, his expression shuttered. “Do you mind me asking, how did he die?”
“Car accident.”
Sophie waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he set his half-eaten pie on the nightstand, clearly done with it. She looked at his half-eaten slice of pie and felt bad. She hadn’t meant to ruin their time together. They had so little time together.
“I’m sorry,” she said, setting the remains of her pie slice on her nightstand. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“You didn’t,” he said gruffly. “It’s just not easy to talk about. Mom never really got over losing him, and Granddad, well, he lost both his sons in the accident, and I don’t know if that kind of grief ever goes away.” Joe looked at her, expression strained. “My dad and his brother Sam—”
“Your uncle was named Sam?”
“Yeah. I was named after my dad, Joseph, and my brother Sam was named after my dad’s best friend, his brother.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well, the rest of the story isn’t sweet. It’s pretty awful. My dad and Uncle Sam were on the way to a rodeo in Cheyenne when they were killed, taken out by a tractor trailer. They died together. Probably instantly. Mom fell apart when she heard. Can’t blame her. She was just twenty-seven with four little boys all under the age of eight, so Granddad drove over to where we were living in Northern California, scooped us all up, and moved us in with him on the ranch. He’s taken care of us ever since.”
“Your grandfather is a good man.”
“He’s old school. Granddad isn’t a big talker, but he shows up and does what’s needed to be done.”
Sophie turned on her hip to face Joe. “Is that why you decided to get married now? Because it’s what needs to be done?”
Joe reached out and lifted a long dark tendril of her hair and wrapped it around his fingers. “It’s time there was another generation on that ranch. It’s a big place, a lot of land. The house needs family… kids.” He tugged gently on her hair. “I need family. Kids. It’s not the same with my brothers gone.”
“You find it lonely.”
He hesitated. “I do.”
“Hopefully we can change that.”
“I like that use of we,” he said, leaning over her, his mouth brushing hers. “It sounds good.”
That brief kiss made her pulse jump and her hear
t beat double-time. Joe’s kiss was pure electricity. “We have to be a team,” she said, fingertips brushing his hard angled jaw, feeling the rasp of his day-old beard. “We have to stick together, and not let friends or family divide us.”
“You think my mom will divide us?”
The man was quick, she’d give him that. Sophie chose her words carefully. “Not just your mom, my family, too. What we’re doing—getting married after meeting on the internet—is crazy, and they’ll think we’re crazy.”
“Maybe we are,” he said, before his mouth claimed hers again.
Sophie shivered against him, the tantalizing pressure of his mouth sending fresh licks of fire up and down on her spine. She reached out and caught his shirt, tugging on the fabric, pulling him closer, and he responded in kind, deepening the kiss, his mouth taking hers with heat and possession. Sophie lost track of time as the delicious kiss went on and on.
When Joe finally lifted his head, his blue eyes sparked with fire. “You have no idea how much I like kissing you,” he growled. “Your mouth was made for me.”
She warmed from the inside out. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her once more, before rising from the bed. “How many kids did you say you wanted again?”
“Four. Five?”
“I was hoping that’s what you’d said.” He walked to the chair and reached into his coat, pulling out a small ring box and popping the lid open; he looked her straight in the eye. “Sophie Correia, marry me. Let’s get that big family started.”
She blushed and looked from his intensely blue eyes to the dazzling diamond and then back up into his beautiful eyes. Her heart beat double time as she answered, “Yes, I will, Joe Wyatt.”
She bit her lip, nervous, and excited, as he slipped the stunning diamond ring onto her finger. It was a simple platinum band with a large diamond solitaire.
He adjusted the band on her finger, making sure the brilliant diamond was facing up. “How does it feel?”
“Perfect.”
“If you’d rather pick out a different ring—”
