by Jane Porter
“I don’t know anything about your life in San Francisco, or the girlfriend you just broke up with,” Taylor said, leaning back as the servers placed the salad course before them. The salad of woodland greens, dried cranberries, toasted walnuts and feta cheese made her mouth water, but she was far more interested in hearing Troy’s answer than eating.
“I like San Francisco. It’s a great city. I hope to always have a home there.”
“How long have you lived there?”
“I’ve been in California since I left for college at eighteen. I went to Stanford University in Palo Alto.”
“You studied?”
“Electrical engineering and computer science.”
“So computer science was your minor?”
“I was a double major, and then a graduate degree in the same.”
She eyed him with new respect. “You are smart.”
He grinned. “I am more than just a pretty face.”
She laughed. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“It was a calculated move on my part. I wanted to make you laugh, and I succeeded.” He reached for a candied walnut and popped it in his mouth. “So what do you like better? My brains or my beauty?”
Taylor loved the glint in his eye and the hint of mischief in his smile. “Your sense of humor.” She sipped her champagne, enjoying the cold tart fizz in her mouth and the way the bubbles warmed her going down. “Tell me about the girlfriend.”
“Which one? There have been many.”
“The last. And why have there been so many?”
“So many questions.”
“I’m curious about you. And the women you love.” She took another quick sip of champagne. “And leave.”
One of his black brows lifted. “I’m not out to break hearts. I’m just not going to settle.”
“So what was wrong with the last one?”
“There’s not much to say. She was a lovely woman. We dated for a number of months, but it wasn’t a forever relationship. It couldn’t go the distance.”
“Why not?”
“We had different values and goals, as well as a different vision for the future.” He saw her expression and shrugged. “She couldn’t understand my love affair with The Graff. She came from money. Her family is old money in San Francisco, and big philanthropists, but she doesn’t believe in rescuing decrepit buildings in the middle of nowhere. She believed my money would have been better spent funding a museum or donating to the San Francisco arts.”
“That’s why you broke up?”
“There were other issues, fundamental issues about identity, integrity, and loyalty, and I appreciate that her family is a well known family, and I appreciate that she is an heiress in her own right, but I’m not jumping through hoops for anybody. I am who I am, and that’s a Sheenan, from Marietta, Montana. I don’t come from big money, and I don’t care what others think of me. I don’t want a woman that cares more about society’s opinion than mine. I want a woman who is herself and has a strong sense of self, because our relationship has to be based on mutual respect, not status or public adulation.”
“Was she beautiful?”
Troy suddenly closed the distance between them, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You are more beautiful.” He kissed her again. “And smarter.” His fingers brushed her cheek, his thumb stroking over the sweep of her cheekbone before kissing her a third time. “And one hundred times more intriguing. Any more questions?”
She stared into his deep blue eyes, lost. In the back of her mind she was sure there were more questions, dozens of them, but her head was spinning and her heart was racing and she just wanted to go somewhere private and kiss some more. “No,” she murmured. “At least, no more right now.”
The night just got better from there.
Dinner was wonderful and Taylor talked to Harley and Brock, Jane and Mitch, aware of Troy’s arm resting lightly along the back of her chair. Now and then his hand would move to her back, and he’d touch her, a soft caress to the middle of her back, a light touch at her nape and she’d tingle and burn.
It didn’t feel like a first date or a Valentine Ball. Being with him was exciting and yet somehow familiar. She was strangely comfortable with him. Had they known each other perhaps in a different life?
Taylor darted a glance at him as Jane and Mitch headed off to the dance floor.
Troy smiled at her. “Yes?”
“Just wondering if you were doing okay.”
The corner of his mouth tugged. “I’m alright. And you?”
“I’m alright, too.”
He lifted her hand, carried it to his mouth and kissed her palm. “Do you want to dance?”
“Not if you don’t.”
“I’m happy being with you. Don’t care if its here, or on the dance floor--” he broke off as Taylor stiffened. “What’s wrong?”
“Judge McCorkle,” she whispered, nodding at the couple approaching. “I don’t like him.”
Troy looked from the judge and his wife to Taylor. “Why not?”
“It’s... personal.”
“Did he say something to you?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
There was no time to say anything else as Judge McCorkle and his wife were upon them. Troy rose, and Taylor more reluctantly. The judge ignored her but greeted Troy effusively.
It was Troy who introduced Taylor to Mrs. McCorkle. “Sarah, I don’t know if you’ve met Taylor Harris.”
“No, I haven’t,” Sarah McCorkle answered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“She’s the new librarian,” the judge boomed.
“Yes, I know,” his wife answered.
“How is your brother?” the judge asked, fixing his narrowed gaze on Taylor. “Staying out of trouble?”
Taylor squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “How thoughtful of you to remember him.” She smiled at the judge, a wide dazzling smile, thinking she’d kill him with kindness. “I will be sure to let Doug know you asked about him.”
And then Troy saved her, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her close. “If you’ll excuse us, this is our song. We have to dance.”
“Now?” The Judge said frowning.
“Yeah, now.” Troy kissed the top of Taylor’s head. “You remember how it was when you fell in love. You’d do anything for your girl.” And then Troy took her hand and, with their fingers laced, drew her after him onto the crowded dance floor.
It was a slow song and when Troy found a spot for them he pulled her into his arms. “You don’t like Judge McCorkle,” he said, settling a hand low on her back.
She shivered at the touch, thinking it was delicious to be held so securely. “No,” she said, tipping her head back to better see Troy’s face. “And I appreciate you standing up for me, but you didn’t have to tell him we were in love—”
“I was just speaking for myself.”
Taylor blushed. “We’re not in love.”
“Again, speak for yourself.”
Taylor didn’t know where to look. “You’re not in love with me.”
“No?” He gazed down at her. “What else do you want to tell me?”
“I mean, I appreciate you going to bat for me...” Her voice faded as she got lost in Troy’s blue eyes. “But there’s no way...” She frowned. “Is there?”
His head bent and his lips covered hers. “No,” he murmured against her lips. “No way am I going to let you go...”
Chapter Twelve
A half hour later Troy and Taylor wound their way through the crowded dance floor back to their table.
Taylor was breathless as she sat back down in her seat. Troy had loosened his black tie. His cheekbones had a lovely dusky color. He was so incredible. Handsome, witty, kind, sexy...
He should be out of her league.
He was out of her league.
But she’d stopped caring or trying to prove anything. She just wanted to feel, and feel good, and right now she felt amazin
g. This entire night was amazing. And maybe Troy was exactly her type. “That was so fun,” she said fanning herself and reaching for her ice water. Her heart was beating fast. “I loved it. What a great DJ. He’s got everyone dancing.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother Brock dance before,” Troy said, signaling the server that they wanted another drink. “It’s great to see him so happy.”
“Harley is wonderful.”
“She is,” he agreed.
“Thank you for making this possible,” Taylor said.
“The Ball?”
“No, this,” she said, gesturing from him to her. “I tried so hard to get out of this date but it’s the most fun I’ve had...” Her shoulder lifted, fell. “... ever? Thank you.”
The waiter materialized with a tray and their cocktails, his drink and another champagne for her. She took her flute but frowned at the raspberry bobbing among the tiny bubbles.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “I never drink more than two of anything, but I think I’ve already had at least... three.”
“This would be your fourth,” he agreed. “But you’ve had dinner and you’ve been dancing. And if you’re worried about driving—”
“Not worried about driving. Not planning on driving anywhere.” She looked at him. “You do have your own suite here at the hotel, don’t you?”
She saw the gleam in his eyes before his lashes dropped. “I do,” he said.
“So no, drinking and driving isn’t my concern.”
“What is your concern then?”
“Losing my head. Which could easily happen after two. And God only knows what happens after three.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “All hell breaks loose?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe we should find out.”
“You think?”
He smoothed a loose tendril back from her cheek, and studied her face, his gaze lingering on her lips. “Could be interesting to see what happens when Miss Harris loses control.”
She reached up, to lightly drag her nails down his cheek. He felt good. So good. And so real. She wanted to kiss him. And more. “I’m not good at this stuff,” she whispered.
“It’s just you and me, baby.”
Her heart did a painful double beat. “I’m afraid I’ll get this part wrong. I’m not a big city girl—”
“Don’t want a big city girl. I like my small town girl just fine.”
She smiled. “You know all the right things to say.”
“I know what I feel and I know what I want. And I want you, Taylor.”
“Why?”
“You just seem like you were made for me.”
Taylor had no answer for this. Silence stretched. She gulped her champagne.
And he just waited, lifting a black brow, his expression quizzical, and maybe even gently mocking, but she didn’t mind.
He was looking at her, waiting on her.
It was all about her. And she liked it. She loved it. She loved the way he focused on her. Loved the piercing blue of his eyes. Loved the intensity in his gaze. When he looked at her like this, she felt strong. Real. Powerful.
She was a woman who could do anything. And love big.
“Can we take our drinks to your suite?” she asked.
“I think we absolutely can.” He stood, held out his hand to her. “Come with me.”
They didn’t make love that night. In Troy’s suite they kissed for hours and did everything one could do without going all the way before finally falling asleep in his bed.
Taylor woke up sometime in the night and turned on her side to watch Troy sleep.
It had been years since she’d slept next to a man. It was hard to sleep when so many different emotions raced through her, making her insides feel raw and tender.
A week ago she would have never thought this was possible. Even two days ago she wouldn’t have thought this was possible...
Now look at her... in bed with Troy, falling for him, hard. So hard.
And yet somehow it felt right. Him, her, together...
Everything worked. They worked. She didn’t know how, didn’t know why, but maybe she didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe it was enough to just feel wonderful.
Troy woke up Taylor with a kiss. “Hey Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured, “It’s almost six. We better get you home. Don’t want to worry Kara or Doug.”
“Can’t go yet,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to prolong the kiss then sighing with pleasure as he shifted his weight over her. He was warm and strong and hard and felt so good against her. “We have time.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked, settling his hips between her thighs.
“Not going home until we do.”
And so they made love, just before dawn, as the first snowflakes of the new storm began tumbling down.
Later, snuggled up against Troy, Taylor sighed, relaxed and perfectly content. “Mmm, that was lovely.”
He wrapped his arm around her, holding her to him. “Who would have ever thought that Marietta’s new librarian was such a wild thing in bed?” he teased.
She gurgled a laugh. “I don’t know how wild I was. You were the one with all the moves... and oh, you have some moves.”
“I dig your body. But then, I’m pretty crazy about you.”
Taylor wrapped her arm over his, and squeezed. “I will miss you when you return to San Francisco.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, too.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow, early afternoon.”
She was silent, aware that Marietta would feel so different without him. She pressed her fingers to his hand, fitting her fingers between his. “When do you come back again?”
“I’m going to try to return next weekend. Dad doesn’t have much time left.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “And I don’t think I could handle going more than five days without seeing you.”
Taylor smiled slowly. “So I’ll see you next weekend?”
“If you want to see me.”
“Oh, I want to see you.” She pushed him onto his back and leaned over his chest, smiling down at him. “And kiss you and make love to you—”
He reached up, cupped the back of her head and drew her face down to his. “I don’t think I can wait that long,” he murmured.
“Then let’s not. Because this long distance thing might be hell.”
Epilogue
April 18th
Actually, the long distance thing wasn’t as bad as they’d imagined. At least, for Troy, the distance hadn’t been a problem so far.
He was commuting weekly between San Francisco and Marietta, leaving San Francisco every Friday night, to spend the weekend in Marietta. Sometimes he’d spend the week in Marietta, too, trying to be with his father as much as he could in his father’s final days. Thankfully he’d been home, at the Sheenan Ranch, when his father died the first week of March, and as hard as it was to say goodbye, it was time.
Troy was in Marietta, too, when Doug Harris received a letter from Judge McCorkle, letting Doug know he could finish his probation at home, provided he continued to attend weekly counseling sessions.
Taylor showed Troy the letter. “You were behind this,” she said to him.
Troy shook his head. “I know nothing about it.” And it was true. Troy hadn’t needed to address Doug’s situation. Judge McCorkle wanted his loan. He wasn’t about to risk upsetting any of the Sheenans.
And now Troy was back again, this time to escort Taylor to the Wedding Giveaway’s Spring Gala at Emerson’s big barn tomorrow night.
Taylor was looking forward to the barn dance. Troy was just happy to have time alone with Taylor. An entire weekend alone if they chose to skip the barn dance and hide out in his suite. She wouldn’t have been able to do it before, but now that Doug had gotten a job on Brock’s ranch, a real joy, a paying job, Doug was happy out at
Copper Mountain. He liked Brock’s cowboys and the easy camaraderie in the bunkhouse and said he’d already made a couple of friends.
“Things are working out,” Taylor had said when they’d tumbled into bed earlier this evening.
“Yes, they are,” he agreed.
Now, close to midnight, they’d just made love again, and were warm and relaxed. Taylor was curled up against him, smiling and practically purring with pleasure.
His little librarian was not a shy thing in bed.
“Come with me to San Francisco for a week,” he said. “We can fly out together, spend the week in California, and then have you back the following Sunday in time for work Monday.”
She opened her eyes, looked at him. “I wish I could—”
“Why can’t you?”
“Doug.”
He kissed her, his hand tangling in her hair. It was meant to be a quick reassuring kiss, but the moment her lips touched his, he just wanted more. That was the thing about her. It didn’t matter how much he had of her, it was never enough.
When the kiss finally ended, he stroked her flushed cheek then watched her sit up. “What about Doug?” he asked.
“I worry about him.”
“I know you do, but Taylor, he’s a young man—” Troy saw her lips part in protest and he added firmly, “—on his way to becoming a mature man and he can handle you being gone for a week. It’s good for both of you to have some independence, and you can rest easy knowing he’s at Brock’s and nothing’s going to happen to him there. Everybody in the bunkhouse will keep an eye out for him, and there’s no one more maternal than Harley. She’s one of five kids herself. She’ll take good care of Doug. You know that.”
Taylor lay back down next to him, nestling close. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her, feeling her tension. She was still so worried.
“What else?” he asked.
“My job.”
“Will be waiting. No one’s going to fire you over taking a few days off, and good grief, wouldn’t it be nice to miss one week of that horrible Tuesday Night Book Group?”
Taylor giggled and then her giggle turned to a heavy sigh. “But Maureen will talk. The gossip.”
