Colton's Ranch Refuge

by Beth Cornelison

  Except her looks. Even in a bathrobe with no makeup and sleep-tousled hair she looked gorgeous.

  Violet bit her plump bottom lip as she worked on his hand, and his brain teased him with memories of nibbling that lip himself only hours ago. A low growl of frustration with his unrelenting libido rumbled in his chest, and she glanced up at him through a fringe of dark brown eyelashes.

  “Am I hurting you?” she asked, loosening her grip on his hand.

  “No, I...was just thinking about...something.” He scowled at his lame response and tugged his hand free of hers. “I think I’ll live. Thanks, Tink.”

  “You really should have your brother take a look, maybe x-ray it.”

  A loud squeal of excitement from the living room drew both of their glances toward the door.

  “That sounds like trouble.” She started limping for the living room, and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’ll check on them. You go back to bed. You’ve taxed yourself enough for one day.”

  * * *

  Violet woke at—she glanced at the glowing alarm clock—3:25 a.m. with a desperate need to use the bathroom. She tossed back the covers, shivering as the cool night air hit her, and considered, for about two seconds, calling Gunnar for help.

  No. She could do it herself. She needed to strengthen her leg, and Gunnar needed his sleep. The boys had run him ragged today.

  Clutching the post at the foot of the bed for support, Violet limped to the hall. She made it to the bathroom and was halfway back to the guest room, passing Gunnar’s door when a noise stopped her in her tracks—a moan.

  Holding the doorframe for support, she peeked around the door to Gunnar’s king-size bed. His legs thrashed in the already tangled sheets and blanket, and he huffed fast, agitated breaths.

  I have nightmares most nights and flashbacks during the day.

  Her chest wrenched, though she was sure her pity was the last thing he wanted. Still, she couldn’t in good conscience ignore his suffering and go back to bed as if she had seen nothing. Limping to his bed, she considered the wisdom of waking him while he was dreaming something dark and terrible. Would he lash out? Be disoriented?

  Biting her lip, she started tugging his sheets free of his legs and smoothing out his covers. What else could she do? When one of the twins woke crying in the night, she sang to them as she rocked them back to sleep. But Gunnar was twice her size, so rocking him was out of the question. She thought of how he’d held her earlier on the porch, cradling her on his lap. She’d felt so safe and comfortable cuddled close to him...until he’d dumped her on the floor to run after the photographer.

  He moaned softly again, his body jerking in reaction to whatever disturbing images played in his dream. Willing to try anything once, Violet began humming the first song that came to mind, a Christmas carol, and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. For a minute or two, nothing changed. He seemed as restless and uneasy as ever, but she persisted, watching until the furrows in his face eased and the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowed.

  When his thrashing calmed, she glanced at the empty pillow beside him. Being in his arms had felt safe for her, so maybe, just maybe, feeling her presence would help him sleep more peacefully. It was worth a shot, she decided, and hobbled to the other side of the bed. She crawled between the covers, already warmed by his body heat, and scooted close to him. Laying her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder, she settled in to sleep.

  And woke him.

  He roused with sharp intake of breath and hard twist of his torso to face her. “What the—?”

  “It’s me. Don’t freak.”

  He scrubbed a hand on his face and blinked hard. “Violet?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”

  He sat up and scratched his bare chest, still clearly confused. “Is...something wrong?”

  Her heart thumped uneasily. How would he react to her gesture? He was pretty touchy about his PTSD. “Um...you were having a nightmare. I heard you as I passed your room on the way to the bathroom.”

  In the faint glow of his alarm clock, she saw him frown.

  She rushed on, “I thought I could help calm you, the way I do the boys when they—”

  His frown deepened, and she realized how that sounded. He would not want to be babied or coddled. She gnawed her lip and sighed. “I thought you might sleep better if I...kept you company. I—” Violet shook her head “—never mind. I’ll go now...”

  She rolled away and shoved the covers aside.

  “Wait.” His hand clamped on her wrist. “Did I say you had to go?”

  “I just—”

  He tugged lightly on her arm and rolled to his back. “Stay if you want to. I don’t mind.”

  She considered it for a moment. “Do you want me to stay?”

  He shot her a wry look. “I’m a guy. It’s like an unwritten guy rule to never kick a pretty woman out of your bed.”

  She held up a hand. “This isn’t about sex, Gunnar. I just thought you might sleep more restfully if I stayed.”

  With his fingers, he made a cross mark over his heart. “Not about sex. I promise.”

  Nodding, she scooted back against him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Good night, Gunnar.”

  “Night, Tink.”

  But for long minutes after that, she lay awake, listening to him breathe, trying to ignore the shivery sensation of her breasts nestled against his muscled frame. This morning she’d said nothing to him about his obvious erection pressing into her bottom while they sat on the porch. The night before, simply lying next to each other had led to heated kisses and nearly making love. It seemed the two of them couldn’t just be close to each other and not have it turn sexual. Their physical chemistry ran too hot.

  But she was determined to keep her end of their deal. The arrangement was not about sex. She honestly wanted to help Gunnar get a good night’s sleep if she could.

  When his chest lifted and fell in an even, deep breathing pattern, she peeked up at his square jaw and the unfair fringe of dark eyelashes closed in slumber. He looked so handsome, so sexy...so peaceful. She grinned. Score.

  Satisfied, she nestled her cheek against him and closed her eyes in search of sleep.

  * * *

  The next day was a Saturday, and Piper called Gunnar’s cell phone bright and early, waking them both and asking Gunnar if she could speak to Violet.

  “Um...sure,” he growled sleepily, then paused before handing the phone to his bed mate. He didn’t want his teenage sister knowing he’d slept with Violet. When she held her hand out for the phone, he held up a finger silently, waited another few seconds, then passed the cell phone to her. “It’s Piper.”

  Violet sat up in the bed. “Piper, is everything okay with the twins?”

  “Oh, yeah. They’re fine. I just wanted to see if it would be okay for us to take them to the zoo in Philly today. Tate has something he needs to do up there, and Sawyer and I thought it’d be fun to show the twins the animals and stuff.”

  “Would Tate be at the zoo with you?” she asked, her gaze following Gunnar as he slid out of bed and pulled on a pair of blue jeans over his boxer shorts.

  Hearing their voices, Sophie pranced in and rubbed against Gunnar’s legs as she demanded her breakfast.

  “No, Tate’s got something to do with work. But our nanny is going. You met Julia, right?” Piper said.

  “Did I?” Violet asked, distracted by Gunnar’s chest as he pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over his head. “I was kinda out of it when I was at the main house before coming up here. But if she’s going with you, then...I think it’s okay. Be sure they wear mittens, and don’t let Hudson stand up in the stroller. He likes to do that, but it’s not safe.”

  “Got it. Wear mittens and keep butts in the stroller seat. So...how are you feeling?”

  “Better, thanks. Much stronger since Monday.” Violet raked fingers through her hair, knowing she had to have bedhead
worse than her boys ever had. “Hey, when I checked in with Rani last night, she told me about your good news. Congrats on the awesome SAT score!”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m petty stoked. It’s a relief to have that behind me. Derek wants me to take it again and try for a perfect score, but I don’t know...”

  “Why not? It’s not like they can take away this score.”

  “True.”

  “Well, congrats anyway. And thank you, Piper, for helping out with my kids. Your family has been a godsend, taking us in, babysitting the boys...”

  “No problem. Hudson and Mason are soooo cute!” Piper said. “Oh...Tate says we’ll be in Philly until midafternoon, back to the ranch by oh-dark-thirty. Okay?”

  Violet grinned. “Have fun.”

  She thumbed the disconnect key and flopped back in the bed, already missing the boys. Then another thought occurred to her. If the twins were with Piper and Sawyer at the zoo, that left her alone all day with Gunnar. She smiled to herself. She could deal with that.

  Chapter 12

  “Where are we going?” Violet asked later that afternoon as she and Gunnar drove down the long ranch drive from his cabin to the rural highway into town.

  “You’ll see,” he replied with a lopsided grin.

  After a late breakfast of pancakes and bacon, which Violet had insisted on helping prepare, she and Gunnar had sat cuddled close to each other on his sofa to watch a recently released action movie. Gunnar had provided commentary on which parts of the military action the moviemakers had gotten wrong, while Violet contributed her behind-the-scenes knowledge of moviemaking magic and her personal experiences with various actors and stuntmen.

  When she found his chess set in a closet, she challenged him to a match—and beat him best two of three. She had doubts his full attention was on the game, however, when he made an obviously bad move that gave her the win in their last round. She had more confirmation of this when he suggested they get out of the cabin and take a drive.

  “It’s too nice outside to stay cooped up,” he said, parting the blinds on his front window to peer out. “I know you’ve got cabin fever. Let’s bust this joint.”

  After packing a wine tote with a bottle of red and two glasses, he’d helped her hobble out to a Porsche Boxster he kept parked behind the cabin, and they were off.

  “Nice ride,” she said smoothing a hand over the leather seat.

  “My one splurge when I found out how much my investments had made.”

  She studied his large hands as he smoothly shifted gears. He looked incredibly sexy behind the wheel of the sports car and a dark pair of stylish sunglasses. Her fingers itched to thread through his thick rumpled hair, and she had to sit on her hands to stop herself from touching him.

  He cut a quick glance toward her before pulling out on the highway. “I don’t drive it too often, ’cause the SUV’s more practical when I have Piper and Sawyer with me. And I generally don’t go anywhere that doesn’t involve taking the kids somewhere.”

  “I gave up a MINI Cooper for a minivan when the twins were born and don’t regret it one bit. But this—” she leaned back in the seat and sighed “—this is nice. You’d be right at home on the streets of Hollywood.”

  He pulled his dark eyebrows together and grunted. “No. The car might be Hollywood, but this part of the country, the family ranch is where I feel at home. I’m a small-town boy at heart.”

  “Mmm,” she hummed in acknowledgment, a pluck of disappointment tugging her chest. All day she’d been cataloging the ways she and Gunnar were alike and how they were different. So far the differences were winning. That fact shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did. It wasn’t as if they were in a relationship. They’d only known each other a week, and she’d be moving out soon. Her leg was healing well, and her strength was coming back thanks to Gunnar’s TLC.

  But their differences did bother her—especially the differences in their lifestyles. Gunnar was right. He’d probably hate the hustle and bustle of Southern California.

  “What about you? Do you like living in Hollywood?”

  His question drew her out of her thoughts but mirrored them so closely that her heart gave an optimistic leap, as if to say, “See you’re on the same wavelength. That counts for something.”

  “Oh, well...” She twisted her mouth as she considered her answer. “L.A. took some getting used to, but I’ve built a life there, and...yeah, I like it. You don’t have to get caught up in the Hollywood hype to love the weather, the opportunities, the energy of the city.” She smiled wistfully. “It’s great...when I’m there. More and more, I’m on the road, making movies, promoting my movies, attending film festivals and award shows and—”

  She stopped and sighed, reminded of the upcoming award show season. She rubbed her leg and wondered aloud, “Think my leg will be healed enough by the SAG Awards in January that I won’t be limping? It’s hard enough to walk in a tight dress and stilettos.”

  “Don’t know about the limp, but...you in a tight dress and high heels?” He glanced at her with an unmasked heat in his eyes. “That I’d love to see in person.”

  She returned a grin and gave in to the urge to finger his hair. “Maybe you could. I need a date, and I bet you would rock a tux.”

  He shot her a startled, wide-eyed look. “Me?”

  She laughed, warming to the idea. “Sure. I’d be the envy of the town on the arm of a sexy mystery man.” She shifted on the bucket seat to face him more fully. “What do you say, handsome? Want to be my escort on the red carpet?”

  His mouth opened and closed like a beached fish’s. “I, uh...seriously?”

  “You don’t have to answer now. It was just an idea. I don’t have anyone else in mind, and I don’t want to go solo.” She forced a grin when he angled a worried look at her. Gunnar’s hesitation didn’t really surprise her, yet it still hurt more than it should.

  “I’m flattered, of course, but...”

  When he floundered again, she waved a hand at him. “Never mind. Forget I asked. It was a crazy idea.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and her excitement flagged as she turned her attention to the rolling hills and stretches of rich farmland out her window. For a moment, imagining Gunnar in her life had been a thrilling proposition. But too soon, reality burst the bubble of that fantasy, and she was back to the conclusion that had nagged her all day. No matter how much she enjoyed Gunnar’s company, no matter how attracted she was to his sexy body and ruggedly handsome face, no matter how wonderful he was with her boys, he didn’t fit in her world.

  He put a warm hand on her knee and squeezed. “I didn’t say no. You just caught me off guard, Tink. Can I think about it and get back to you?”

  She twitched a smile for him. “Sure.”

  But she wouldn’t hold her breath.

  * * *

  That night, Violet stared through the darkness of the guest room at the ceiling, a smile on her lips as she reflected on the day with Gunnar. He’d been sweet and thoughtful, a good conversationalist and welcome distraction from the nagging concerns from the past week.

  She’d just closed her eyes in search of sleep when she sensed a presence in the room. Turning her head, she peered through the darkness to find Gunnar, his shoulder braced against the door frame. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he replied quietly, “but I couldn’t sleep, and...I heard you tossing and turning, so...I thought maybe you’d like some company? We could talk or—”

  “Sure.” She patted the other side of her bed. “Come on in.”

  The tentative way he asked touched her, but the uncertainty in his voice didn’t fool her. She knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed...what would help him get through the night without the nightmares that tormented him.

  He settled in beside her, folding one arm behind his head, and she scooted over next to him, savoring the heat of his body on the cold night.

  “So...what do you hear from the movie set? I guess your absence has put them
behind schedule, huh?”

  “A bit. But they’re shooting scenes I’m not in.”

  “That’s good. What, um...do you think—”

  “Gunnar?” she said, touching his chin.

  “Yeah?”

  “Good night.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and snuggled down to sleep. Next to her, his body relaxed as if relieved to not have to keep up his pretense.

  “Good night, Tink,” he whispered, the nickname she’d once hated now spoken in a tone full of warmth and affection. Soon he was snoring softly, the sound of his deep, even breathing lulling her to sleep.

  Sharing a bed became a habit over the next few nights, an unspoken agreement, an arrangement that afforded Gunnar a better night’s sleep and gave Violet the sense of security and distraction from her worries that she craved...while also revving her attraction to Gunnar to a fever pitch.

  Nothing like a promise that the arrangement would not involve sex to focus her thoughts on stripping Gunnar to his boxers and sating the fire in her belly. By Wednesday night, Violet’s skin felt too tight, her nerves crackled and her blood hummed with longing. She shifted restlessly beside Gunnar. Even the crisp, cool sheets against her skin taunted her and made her edgy, more needy. She flopped onto her back and tried to avoid touching the warm body and soft cotton pajama pants next to her, tried to ignore the woodsy scent that clung to him. To no avail.

  A frustrated groan escaped.

  “You okay?” Gunnar asked, and when he laid a hand on her arm, she nearly came out of her skin.

  “No,” she said, surrendering to the truth. “I’m not okay.”

  “You need some more ibuprofen or—?”

  “No. That’s not...” She sighed heavily and rolled onto her side, facing him, curling her fingers into the muscles of his shoulder. “I need you, Gunnar. I’m not a good enough actress to lie over here and pretend I’m not about to burst into flames.”

  Beneath her hand, Gunnar’s body tensed. “Wait...you said sex wasn’t—”