Ally’s heart slammed against her ribs and her breathing grew short. It was suddenly imperative, she decided, that they both get out of their clothes.
Hank seemed to have the same thought, because he was guiding her upright again so he could use both hands to unbutton and unzip, and help ease off her boots and jeans.
“You, too,” she said, jerking the shirt hem free of his jeans, working at the fastenings, spreading the fabric wide. His chest was every bit as sleek and hard and masculine as she had imagined it would be. Swirls of dark hair covered his flat male nipples and arrowed down past his navel.
Anxious to discover more, she let her hands move to his belt buckle.
Hank kissed his way from the shell of her ear down her neck. “I thought we were taking this slow.”
Ally eased both her hands inside the waistband of his jeans. He was throbbing, ready, full. Heat poured through her, curling her toes and she rose up to meet him. With her heart slamming against her ribs, she kissed him full and hard on the mouth. Given the way she felt… “We are.”
He grabbed her close and kissed her back, just as ardently. The hot skin of his muscular chest pressed against her bare breasts. She felt his urgency. And still he kissed her thoroughly. As if she was the most beautiful, wonderful woman on earth, and he was the only man for her. It felt as if they were meant to be together, meant to celebrate the upcoming holiday in just this way. And though Ally had never liked Christmas, never let herself want presents, she did want this.
What did it matter if it wasn’t destined to be anything but a fling? she told herself practically. Something that felt so good had to be right.
Hank must have felt so, too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be letting go of her long enough to step out of his boots, jeans and briefs, wouldn’t be ripping back the covers on his bed and lowering her to the warm flannel sheets.
Slipping both hands beneath her, he urged her knees apart and eased his weight between her thighs. More kisses came, slower and more sultry than before, and only when she was trembling and arching and gasping for breath did he release her lips and kiss his way down her body. Lingering over her breasts, moving past her ribs, to patiently explore her navel…
Seeming more content than she had ever imagined he could be, he explored the hottest, wettest part of her, through the lace of her panties. Holding her hips, he made her wiggle and moan. And then his hands were inside the elastic, steadily easing that last bit of cloth from her. The intensity of his exploration left them both shaking.
At some point the tables were turned and her hands were on him, causing him to inhale sharply and bury his head against her throat.
“Enough playing,” Hank murmured. Turning her onto her back, he stretched out overtop, his hot breath scorching her neck.
“Agreed.” She put her palms on his hips and wantonly pulled him toward her.
A second later they were one, fitting together as if they had been destined to join forces just like this, his fullness generating another roller coaster of want and need. Forcing her to open herself up and wrap her arms and legs around him and be closer yet. And still they kissed, the two of them moving together, burning hotter, until they were soaring out of control. The force of the pleasure consumed her, prompting her to arch and shudder and cry out. And Hank, sweet unbelievable gift that he was, found his pleasure, too, surging into her just as rapaciously, taking her along for the ride.
ALLY LAY ON HER SIDE, her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure when she had ever felt so completely, utterly fulfilled…or so drained. Physically, she was exhausted. Emotionally was another matter. Her heart was in as much of an uproar as her senses. Every inch of her felt alive, appreciated and more vulnerable than she knew what to do with.
With a long, luxurious sigh that sounded like pure contentment, Hank rolled so his body was cuddled up next to hers.
Spooning was something Ally had never done, either. Yet with Hank’s arm clamped snugly around her, his strong body pressed against hers, she didn’t have the will to move away.
So she lay there, eyes shut, trying not to think about what had just happened or what it might mean. Now or in the future.
And she was still “not thinking” about it some time later when she awakened and found herself naked and alone in Hank McCabe’s bed. Ally sat up with a start, clutching the sheet to her breasts. Her naked state, and the just-loved tingling of her body, made it official. She hadn’t dreamed this tryst with Hank. Or her newfound, never to be repeated, recklessness. Fortunately for both of them, he had apparently come to his senses, too, and left the room before she roused. Which meant she could get dressed in solitude.
With shaking hands, Ally pulled on her clothes and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.
The woman staring back at her in the mirror, with the bright eyes, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, looked different.
One roll in the hay with Hank and she felt different, too.
But Ally wasn’t going to think about that, either.
She was going to go down and see to Duchess and the puppies, because she should have done that a good half an hour ago. Ally ran a brush through her tousled hair, twisted it up into a clip and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.
Only to find the puppies already curled up to Duchess’s side, suckling sweetly. All except Gracie, who was cuddled on Hank’s lap, taking her formula from a bottle in his hand.
His dark hair was mussed, his jaw lined with lateafternoon shadow, and he, too, had the glow of someone who had just been well and thoroughly loved.
Ally pushed aside the notion of what it might be like to have him home with her like this every evening. No matter how much she might fantasize that, or wish for it in her dreams, it wasn’t going to happen, she told herself firmly.
She didn’t care how sexy he was.
She was not going to return to the place that had held so much loneliness and uncertainty in her youth.
To a place that held nothing but bad memories for her now.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Ally asked.
Hank looked at Ally tenderly. “I know how hard you’ve been working. I wanted you to get some sleep.”
She had to admit she did feel better for the rest. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Something shifted in his expression, though the affection in his eyes remained. Appearing as if he had half expected just this kind of reaction from her, he favored her with a reassuring smile.
“I know that,” Hank returned, just as quietly. “But I wanted to.”
Just as, Ally thought wistfully, he clearly wanted to make love to her again. She swallowed, her fear of being hurt stronger than ever. “The thing is,” she reminded them both, “I’m only here temporarily.”
The look in Hank’s eyes said he clearly felt otherwise. “So you’re telling me I’m nothing more than a fling to you?”
Ally wished it were that uncomplicated. She could already feel herself being drawn to him again, heart and soul. The problem was, they were all wrong for each other. “We want different things from life,” she told him in a low, measured tone.
His gaze narrowed. “Ranchers marry city girls all the time,” he returned casually.
Marry! Telling herself they were speaking hypothetically, Ally concurred. “But in those cases, the city girls move to the ranch.” Which was clearly not going to happen here. She edged closer to make her point as gently and kindly as possible. She put up a staying hand. “I’m not saying it wasn’t great…”
“That’s good to hear,” Hank interrupted, looking her straight in the eye. “Because it was—” he paused, letting the words sink in “—great.”
Ally flushed at the new heat in his midnight-blue eyes. “But it’s not going to happen again,” she continued, standing her ground determinedly.
He lifted a skeptical brow. “Sure about that?” he teased.
Ally nodded. She did not want to be hurt and instinct told her that, whether he wanted to admit
it or not, Hank McCabe had the potential to break her heart. She gulped, moved closer still and inclined her head toward the adorable puppy he held in his arms. “So what’s going on here?”
To her relief, Hank let the discussion about their lovemaking end.
“Well,” he drawled, his attention returning to Duchess and the puppies, too. “You’re not going to believe what just happened,” he said. He finished giving Gracie the bottle, then held her up tenderly, to look into her cute little face and still-closed eyes. “Is she, Gracie?”
Ally could have swore the pup gave a tiny squeak in response. But maybe that was wishful thinking, too.
“What happened?” she asked in concern.
Hank smiled and gently set the littlest puppy down in front of Duchess, who promptly began nuzzling the runt of the litter affectionately and cleaning her, with her tongue. That much attention from her mother was new, Ally noted with a start.
Hank beamed like a proud papa, and languidly rolled to his feet. “Gracie nursed at her mama’s side for a good three minutes at the start of the feeding before she got too tired and fell off.”
Nursing from the mother was much harder, physically, than taking formula from a bottle. Which meant that Gracie was not failing, after all, but getting stronger. “That’s nearly three times as long as she did this morning!” Ally noted, impressed.
“Not only did she get much needed colostrum and immunity from her mama,” Hank reported happily, “but she drank most of this bottle, too.”
Finished, Duchess nosed Gracie away from her and turned to the next puppy who needed her attention.
Hank reached over and picked up Gracie, handing her to Ally to cuddle. As she held her, Gracie made the same sounds the other puppies were making—like the quiet purr of a well-tuned motor. The males were a little larger than the females. All the puppies, including Gracie, seemed a bit more adept at wiggling and scooting around today. Duchess seemed attached to every one of them, even the littlest one.
“Gracie is getting stronger, too.” Ally could feel it in the way the little puppy nestled against her.
Hank regarded her seriously. “It won’t be long at all—maybe the end of the week or so—before Gracie can take her nourishment with her siblings, and give up the handfeeding entirely.”
Which meant, Ally realized with a pang, that Gracie wouldn’t need her.
“That’s great,” she choked out, telling herself that the pup’s coming independence, as well as Hank’s wordless departure from the bedroom, was to be celebrated, not mourned. Ever so gently, she pressed a kiss on the top of Gracie’s head and handed her back to him.
Their fingers brushed during the transfer. The tenderness of his touch told her he knew just how vulnerable and exposed she felt. A humiliating sting of tears pressed against the back of Ally’s eyes. She knew she had to get out of there. Now. Before she gave her heart away to more than just Duchess and the puppies.
Determined not to reveal herself even more, she whirled around. Reminding herself she could not stay in Laramie, no matter what happened with her job in Houston, Ally found her coat, purse and keys. I’m a city girl now. And that being the case… “I have to go into town.”
Hank’s eyebrows went up. “Right now?”
Not trusting herself to speak, Ally nodded. He looked…disappointed.
The odd thing was, she was disappointed, too. But she knew it was for the best. Despite Hank’s protests to the contrary, their fling was just that—a one-time event never to be repeated. Ally forced herself to hold Hank’s steady, assessing gaze, and said in the most even voice she could manage, “Since I can’t find a crew to do it for me, I’ve decided to go ahead and strip and paint at least the living room and foyer myself. Hopefully, the kitchen and mudroom, too. I’m going to pick up some paint samples before the hardware store closes, and decide on a color this evening.”
Hank settled Gracie in the warmer and began adding the other puppies, too. “Want company?”
Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. Which was another part of the problem. She was used to weathering life’s difficulties alone. Hank was going to be in her life for only twelve more days. It would be a mistake to count on him more than she already had. And an even bigger mistake to put herself in situations with him that could only lead to further intimacy.
“Thanks for the offer,” she said briskly, “but no.” For both their sakes, she flashed a too-bright smile. “I think we’ve imposed on one another enough.”
Much more, and she’d begin to think they were in some sort of relationship. And that was not the case.
“AND I THOUGHT THE situation couldn’t get any worse,” Ally’s coworker told her over the phone in an anxious tone two hours later. “Unfortunately,” Porter continued unhappily, “I was wrong.”
I’m not sure I want to hear this.
Ally stopped her car at the end of the road leading to the ranch and rolled down her window. She checked the post and took out several pieces of mail, all for Hank. She set them on the seat beside her and rolled up her window again, speaking into the microphone attached to her earpiece. “What do you mean?” she asked, doing her best to remain calm.
“The powers that be have decided to notify everyone of their job status—or lack thereof—by email!” Porter railed. “If we’re laid off, we’re not even going to be permitted back in the building. They’re going to ship our personal belongings to us.”
Ally turned her car into the lane, the golden arc of her headlights sweeping through the darkness of early evening. On either side of the gravel path were heavy thickets of mesquite that further obscured her view. In no hurry to get back to Hank, she drove carefully. “I’m sure the new CEO thinks it will be easier that way,” she told Porter.
“Maybe for them,” he argued. “For us, it’s all the more humiliating! And depressing, since the messages are all going out simultaneously on the morning of December 23!”
Good thing I’ve never been much for Christmas, or my holiday would be completely ruined.
“Couldn’t they at least have kept us around until after the holiday?” Porter complained.
Ally winced as her Audi bumped through a water-filled rut that spanned the width of the gravel lane.
Was there no place on this ranch not needing repair? she wondered. Then said practically, “For accounting reasons, the company has to wrap this up before December 31. You know that. Anyway, the last I heard, the plan was to keep at least a few of the old middle managers around, to help with the transition. So you could still have a job when the dust settles, as could I.”
“I’m not counting on it, which is why I’m already sending out my résumé as we speak.” Porter paused. “At least you have a substantial financial cushion with the ranch.”
Not as much as people probably thought, given the size and value of Mesquite Ridge. Unless they had looked at her financials…
“All you have to do is sell to Corporate Farms or whoever and—”
Holy cow! Ally blinked in astonishment as she reached the clearing that surrounded the ranch house and barn. If she hadn’t known, she would have sworn it wasn’t her home! She’d been gone only a little over two hours, yet half a dozen pick-up trucks and cars were parked there.
Inside the 1920s domicile, lights blazed.
Clearly, a party was going on.
Why hadn’t she been invited?
Or at least advised that it was happening?
“…Whereas I will probably end up having to sell my condo,” her coworker continued. “Unless I end up getting another job right away. If we’re lucky enough to get a little severance, along with our pink slips—”
“Porter,” Ally interrupted, “I’ve really got to go.”
“Okay. Call me.”
“I will.” She turned off her phone and dropped the earpiece into her shoulder bag.
Gathering up Hank’s mail, she drew a bolstering breath. And emerged from her car just in time to see Hank stride out of the front door
and head straight for her.
Chapter Eight
Grinning, Hank strolled toward her, one hand behind his back. “Ready for a surprise?”
Was she?
Before Ally could protest, he produced a red Santa hat and slid it over her head, so the white fur trim obscured her vision. Trying—and failing—to hold on to her pique regarding both his cheerful antics and the party obviously going on in her absence, Ally drawled sarcastically, “Is this necessary?” The furry brim tickled the bridge of her nose.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hank bantered back. “If you want to get in the holiday spirit…”
Ignoring the tremor of excitement soaring through her, Ally let him guide her. “I thought I told you I wasn’t big on holidays.”
Hank’s warm hands closed over her shoulders. Purposefully, he steered her in the direction he wanted her to go. “Yet,” he interjected, as if he expected that attitude to fall by the wayside as quickly and easily as her resistance to him had.
Talk about a one-track mind! Determined not to let him know how much she hated having to rely on him to get anywhere, Ally scowled as he helped her up the steps, onto the front porch. Her skin tingled from the contact. “You’re not going to be able to change me, you know.”
His laughter had a masculine, confident ring to it. “Famous last words,” Hank whispered in her ear. He propelled her through the front door, turned her toward the living room and whipped off her Santa hat.
“Merry Christmas!” everyone said in unison.
Ally blinked. Thanks to Hank and the twenty or so working guests, the ugly horse-and-hound wallpaper that had dominated most of the first floor was almost completely gone. The unadorned wallboard provided a clean slate. For the first time in her life, Ally had an inkling of what the space could be like. “Thank you!” she whispered, overcome by the unexpected generosity shown her.
A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe Page 8
