Honey and the Hired Hand

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Honey and the Hired Hand Page 7

by Joan Johnston


  She would be a fool to live for today; she would be a fool to give up today for the hope of tomorrow. But maybe the time had come for acting a little foolish. Knowing her decision was made, Honey relaxed and nuzzled her face against Jesse's throat.

  He felt her acquiescence. Her body flowed once more like honey, hot and smooth. His blood began to thrum.

  Honey suddenly felt herself being rolled over onto her back. Jesse lay on top of her, his hips pressed tightly into the cradle of her thighs, so there was no mistaking his intention. He levereid himself onto his palms and she felt herself quivering as he took a long, lazy look at the breasts he had exposed.

  "You're so beautiful," he rasped.

  He lowered his mouth so slowly that Honey felt the curl of desire in her belly long before his mouth reached the tip of her breast. She anticipated his touch, but the reality was stunning. The warmth. The heat. The wetness of his tongue. The sharp pain as his teeth grazed the crest, and then the strong sucking as he took her breast into his mouth. It was almost more pleasure than she could bear.

  Honey was frantic to touch his flesh, and her fingernails made distinct crescents in his back as his mouth captured hers and his tongue ravaged her.

  Honey shuddered as his hand cupped her breast. He kneaded the tip between his callused finger and thumb, causing a feeling that was exquisite. There were too many sensations to cope with them all. The roughness of his hands, the wetness of his mouth, the heaviness of his lower body on hers. She was lost in sensation.

  With Cale, they would have rushed to fulfillment. But when she reached for the metal buttons of Jesse's fly, his hand was there to stop her. It seemed he had not nearly had his fill of touching and tasting. He held her hand tight against the bulge in his jeans for a moment, then laid her palm against his cheek.

  "Touch me, Honey. I need you to touch me."

  And she did. Her fingertips roamed his face as though she were a blind woman trying to see him for the first time. She found the tiny scar in his hairline and the spiderweb of lines beside his eyes. The thickness of his brows. The petal softness of his eyelids and his feathery lashes.

  She searched out the hollow beneath his cheekbone and the strength of his jaw. The long, straight nose and beneath it the twin lines that led to his lips, soft and damp and full.

  He nipped her fingertips and made her laugh until his teeth caught the pad between her fingers and thumb. His love bite chased waves of feeling down her spine.

  She used lips and teeth and tongue to trace the shell shape of his ear and was rewarded with a masculine groan that fought its way up through clenched teeth. She was lost in an adventure of discovery, so she wasn't aware, at first, of similar forays Jesse was making.

  He nibbled at her neck and laved the love bites with his tongue. Honey felt her whole body clench in response. His hands entwined with hers, and he held them down on either side of her head so she couldn't interfere with his sensual exploration. His lips traced the length of her collarbone and slipped down to the tender skin beneath her arm. He bit and suckled until Honey was bucking beneath him.

  "Jesse, please," she begged. She couldn't have said herself whether she wanted him to stop or go on.

  Jesse certainly had no intention of stopping. He was fascinated by the woman under him. By her scents and textures and tastes. She smelled of honeysuckle, but her taste was distinct, a woman taste that was meant for him and him alone. Her skin was like satin, or maybe silk, smooth and alluring. He couldn't touch her enough, couldn't taste her enough.

  His mouth found hers again, and he brought their bodies into alignment, feeling the moist heat of her through the denim that still separated them. He wanted her. How he wanted her!

  He released her hands to reach down toward his Levi's, but her hand was there before him.

  "Let me."

  Her eyes were lambent, heavy-lidded, the blue almost violet with desire. His loins tightened. He couldn't speak, so he nodded curtly.

  She took her own damn sweet time with it. A button at a time he felt himself come free until she was holding him, surrounding him with her hand.

  He hissed out a breath. "Damn woman. You're going to kill me with kindness."

  Honey smiled seductively. "Then you'll die smiling, cowboy."

  The crooked grin flashed on his face and was gone an instant later as she led him toward the female portal that awaited him.

  He paused long enough to rasp out, "Are you protected?"

  She nodded at the same time he thrust himself inside her. Hot. Wet. Tight. The feelings were astounding, and he groaned as he seated himself deep within her body.

  For a moment he didn't move, just enjoyed the feeling of being inside her, of having joined the two of them as one. Right. It felt right And good.

  "Honey, dammit, I-" He wanted to wait even longer, arouse her more, until she couldn't talk or even breathe. It was soon apparent she was as aroused as he. Her hands shoved his jeans down and she grasped his buttocks as her legs came up around him. He took his weight on his hands, leaving him free to caress her lips and breasts with his mouth.

  Jesse felt a frenzy of uncontrollable need for this woman, at this moment in time. "Honey, I can't-"

  He needn't have worried that he was leaving her behind. He felt the convulsions deep inside her and knew she had reached the same pinnacle as he. He threw his head back, teeth clenched against the agony of pleasure that swelled through him as he spilled his seed. He was unaware of the exultant cry that escaped him at that ultimate moment.

  Honey felt the tears steal into the corners of her eyes as Jesse slipped to her side and pulled her into his arms. She held on to him tightly, afraid to admit the awesomeness of what had just happened between them. It wasn't what she had expected. The pleasure, yes. But the feeling of belonging…That, she couldn't explain and didn't want to contemplate.

  "Honey? Did I hurt you?"

  She felt his lips at the corners of her eyes, kissing away the tears. "No," she said. "You didn't hurt me."

  "Then, why-?"

  "I don't know," she admitted in a choked voice. Another tear fell.

  He pulled her into his embrace. In a low voice, that rusty-gate voice, he said, "It felt right, Honey. It felt good. Don't be sorry."

  "I'm not," she said. And realized she wasn't. Cale was dead; she was alive. She didn't fool herself. What she and Jesse had just experienced was rare. It hadn't even happened all the time with Cale. That must mean that she felt more for the drifter than even she had previously perceived. She wasn't ready yet to examine those feelings. She wasn't sure what she would find. She certainly wasn't ready to confront them head-on.

  Honey changed the subject instead. "Jack will be showing up soon," she whispered.

  "Yeah. I'd better get out of here." He grinned and slicked his hand through hair damp with sweat. "I could really use a bath."

  Honey arched a brow. "Are you bragging or complaining?"

  His eyes were suddenly serious as he said, "I got exactly what I wanted. Are you saying you didn't want it, too?"

  "No. I'm not saying that."

  He searched her eyes, trying to discern her feelings. First and foremost among them was confusion. Well, he could identify with that. Perhaps what they both needed now was time and distance. Especially since he could feel himself becoming aroused again simply by her nearness. "I'd better get that bath."

  He pulled his Levi's back on and buttoned them partway, knowing he was just going to pull them off again down the hall, then turned back to look at Honey.

  She had grabbed the towel and was using it to cover herself.

  "I think I find you even more enticing half-clothed than when you're naked," he warned.

  Honey clutched the towel closer, accidentally revealing even more skin. She was helpless to resist him if he touched her again.

  Jesse considered making love to her again, but his common sense stopped him. Any moment Jack might return home. While-he hadn't allowed her son's objections to prevent
him from pursuing Honey, he didn't want to confront Jack coming from her bedroom, either. He didn't want the boy thinking any less of his mother because of her relationship with some drifter. When the time was right, he would tell them all the truth and let Honey decide whether she wanted anything more to do with him-or not.

  He finished his bath and went downstairs to make coffee, as usual. Shortly thereafter he was joined by Honey, fresh from her bath and looking even more alluring with her hair curling in damp tendrils around her face. She was wearing the same man's robe she had worn the first day he had arrived. He wondered if she had done it on purpose, to remind him that she had belonged to another man. He wanted to cross the room and pull her into his arms, but the wary look on her face held him apart.

  "I started coffee," he said, to break the uncertain silence.

  "How about eggs and bacon this morning?" she asked, heading for the refrigerator.

  He let her pass by him without reaching out, but his nostrils flared as he caught the scent of honeysuckle from her hair. He watched her do all the normal things she had done for the past three weeks, as though nothing momentous had happened between them in the bed upstairs.

  Then he saw her hands were trembling and realized she wasn't as calm as she wanted him to believe. He didn't think, just closed the distance between them. He had put his hands on her shoulders when a noise behind him froze them both.

  "Hey, what's going on here?" Jack said belligerently, shoving open the kitchen door and letting himself in.

  Jesse turned to face Honey's older son, but he didn't take his hands from her shoulders. "Your mom's making breakfast."

  "That's not what I mean and you know it," Jack retorted.

  Jesse saw the tension in the boy's shoulders, the suspicion in his eyes. There was no purpose to be served by aggravating him. He let go of Honey's shoulders, picked up the pot of coffee from the stove and returned to the table to pour himself a cup.

  Jack watched with hostile eyes from the doorway, then marched over to stand before the hired hand.

  Jessie had been expecting Jack to confront him, but he wasn't prepared for the bluntness of the boy's attack.

  "You stay away from my mother. She doesn't want anything to do with you."

  "That's her decision, isn't it?"

  ' 'I can take care of things around here now that school's out!" the boy said. "We don't need you."

  Jesse heard the pain beneath the defiant words. "From what I've seen, your mother can use another helping hand."

  "You can never replace my father!" Jack said. "He was a Texas Ranger, a hero. You're nothing, just some drifter who rolled in like tumbleweed. Why don't you go back where you came from?"

  "Jack!" Honey was appalled at Jack's attack on Jesse. "Apologize," she ordered.

  "I won't!" Jack said. "I meant every word I said. We don't need him here."

  "But we do need him," Honey contradicted. "I can't do it all, Jack. Even though you're a big help, there are jobs you can't do, either. We need a man's help. That's why Jesse is here."

  Honey realized immediately that she had used the wrong appeal with her son. He was a youth on the verge of manhood, and she had reminded him that despite the change in his voice and his tall lanky body, he was not yet a man.

  "Fine!" he retorted. "Keep your hired hand. But don't expect me to like it!"

  With that he shoved his way out the screen door and headed for the barn. Without breakfast. Which, knowing Jack's appetite, gave Honey some idea just how upset he was.

  Honey felt the tears glaze her eyes. "I'm sorry that happened."

  Jesse put his hands on her shoulders to comfort her. "He'll be all right."

  "I wish I could be as sure of that as you seem to be."

  "Don't worry, Honey. Everything will work out fine. You'll see."

  But as he lay in the bunk in the barn, he felt a knot in his stomach at all the hurdles that would have to be crossed if he was ever to claim this woman as his own.

  Six

  Jesse found Jack in the barn brushing General. He stuck a boot on the bottom rail of the stall door and leaned his forearms on the top rail.

  "You and that bull seem to be good friends," Jesse said.

  The boy ignored him and continued brushing. the bull's curly red coat.

  Jesse tipped his hat back off his brow. "When I was a kid about your age my dad gave me a bull of my very own to raise."

  "I was eight when Dad bought General," Jack said. "He wasn't much to look at then, but Dad thought he was something pretty special. He was right. General's always been a winner." Jack seemed embarrassed at having said; so much and began brushing a little harder and faster.

  "Sounds like your dad was something pretty special, too," Jesse said.

  "You're nothing like him, that's for sure!"

  "No, I expect not," Jesse agreed. "I do have one thing in common with your father."

  Jesse waited for the boy's curiosity to force him to continue the conversation.

  "What's that?" Jack asked.

  "Feelings for your mother."

  Jack glared at him. "Why can't you just leave her alone?"

  How could he explain what he felt for Honey in words the boy would understand? Jesse wondered. What did one say to a thirteen-year-old boy to describe the relationship between a man and a woman? It would be easier if he could tell the boy he was committed in some way to Honey. But Jesse had never spoken of "forever" with Honey, and he wasn't free to do so until his business here was done.

  "I wish I had an easy answer for your question," Jesse said quietly. "But I don't. Will it help if I say I'll try my damnedest never to do anything that'll hurt your mom?"

  Abruptly Jack stopped brushing the bull. "She's never gonna love you like she loved Dad. You're crazy if you think she will. There's no sense in you hanging around. Now that school's out, I can handle things. Why don't you just leave?"

  "I can't," Jesse said simply.

  "Why not?"

  "Your mother needs my help." And I still have to steal this bull.

  Jack's body sagged like a balloon losing air. "I wish Dad was still alive," he said in a quiet, solemn voice.

  Jesse retrieved a piece of hay from the feed trough and began to shred it. "My father died when I was twenty," he said. "Bronc threw him and broke his neck. I didn't think anything could hurt so much as the grief I felt losing him. I missed him so much, I left home and started wandering. It took a few years before I realized he was still with me."

  The boy's brow furrowed, revealing the confusion caused by Jesse's last statement.

  Jesse reached out to scratch behind the huge bull's ears. "What I mean is, I'd catch myself doing something and remember how my dad had been the one to teach it to me. My father left me with the best part of himself-the memories I have of everything he said and did."

  Jack swallowed hard. His teeth gritted to stop the tremor in his chin.

  "Your mom won't ever forget your dad, Jack. No more than you will. No matter who comes into her life, she'll always have her memories of him. And so will you."

  Jesse wasn't sure whether his words had caused any change in Jack's attitude toward him, but he didn't know what else to say.

  The silence deepened and thickened until finally Jesse said, "You're doing a fine job grooming General, boy. When you get done, I could use some help replacing a few rotted posts around the corral."

  Jesse turned and left the barn without waiting for a reply from Jack. Fifteen minutes later, Jack appeared at his side wearing work gloves and carrying a shovel. The two of them labored side by side digging out several rotten posts and replacing them with new ones.

  Honey could hardly believe her eyes when she looked out the kitchen window. She forced herself to remain inside and give Jesse and Jack time alone together. When several hours had passed and they were still hard at work, she prepared a tray with two large glasses of iced tea and took it out to the corral.

  "You both look thirsty," she said.

&nbs
p; Jesse swiped at the dripping sweat on his neck and chest with a bandanna he had pulled from his back pocket. "I am. How about you, Jack?"

  Honey was amazed at the even, almost cordial sound of her son's voice as he said, "I feel dry enough to swallow a river and come back for more."

  Both males made short work of the tall glasses of iced tea. Honey flushed when Jesse winked at her as he set his glass back on the tray. She looked quickly at Jack to see how he reacted to Jesse's flirtatious behavior. Her son shrugged…and grinned!

  She turned and stared in amazement at Jesse, What on earth had he said to Jack to cause such a miraculous reversal in her son's attitude? Honey frowned as the two shared a look of male understanding. Whatever it was, she ought to feel grateful. And she did. Sort of.

  Honey tried to pinpoint what it was that bothered her about Jack's acceptance of the drifter. Her forehead wrinkled in thought as she slowly made her way back to the house. She wasn't pleased with the conclusions she reached.

  So long as Jack found the drifter a threat and an interloper, it had been easier for Honey to justify keeping Jesse at an emotional arm's length. She had realized there was no sense letting herself get attached to him if one of her children clearly abhorred him. Jack's sudden acceptance of Jesse left her without a piece of armor she had counted on. Now, with her defenses down, she was extremely vulnerable to the drifter's entreaties.

  Halfway to the house, the phone started ringing. Honey was breathless from running when she finally answered it.

  "Honey? Did I catch you outside again?"

  "Oh, Adam. Uh, yes, you did. When are you coming home?"

  "I am home. Are you free to go out tonight?"

  Honey thought about it for a moment. Clearly she needed to be sure Jesse wasn't anywhere around when she told Adam she couldn't marry him. Going out was probably not a bad idea. "Sure," she said at last. "What time should I meet you and where?"

  "I'll pick you up."

  "That isn't necessary, Adam. I-"

  "I insist."

  It was clear he wouldn't take no for an answer. Rather than argue, she agreed. "All right."

 

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