by Jill Sanders
“I’m beginning to believe that I don’t always need fancy.” She smiled.
For the next hour, he stood in a corner while Kristen tried on clothes. She left the first shop with two bags full. Then they spent almost another hour in Granger’s and she left with another bag full of items, including two new pairs of shoes.
“I never could understand why anyone would need more than two pairs of shoes,” he said, helping her back into the truck.
“That’s because you’re a man,” she said when he finally got behind the wheel.
“That’s because I’m practical.” He smiled over at her.
“Last I remember, you liked my less-than-practical shoes,” she purred, running a hand over his chest, and he felt all his blood leave his upper body.
“Where to now?” he asked, trying to focus.
“How about the diner for some lunch? Then I can pick up the car so you don’t have to drive me around everywhere.”
He nodded, feeling the lump in his throat. He didn’t mind driving her around. He actually enjoyed it. But he knew the next few days were going to be extremely busy, so he headed toward the diner.
When he parked the truck next to the company car she’d been driving, he instantly saw the problem and groaned. “Damn it.”
“What?” she asked.
He nodded to the car. “Someone got the tires.”
“Oh no.” She jumped out of the truck. “Who would . . .” Her words dropped away.
“I’ll call Mike.” He pulled out his cell phone.
They ordered lunch and waited in the diner until Mike showed up, then stepped outside to file another report. When they finished up, Kristen headed back inside and Tyler called the local shop to have the car towed and four new tires put on it.
They told him they would deliver it to the hotel for Kristen and leave the keys at the front desk with Marg.
When he walked back into the diner, Kristen was chatting with several of his crew.
“John was just telling me he’s heading out on a job site tomorrow and asked if I’d like to tag along to see the digging process. I’ve been meaning to head out and talk to the crew.”
Thoughts of the million things that could go wrong flashed through his head. He turned to John, about to berate the man for offering, but Kristen took his hand in hers.
“John’s going to drive so I don’t get the car stuck in the mud. He assures me it’s perfectly safe, and I’ll wear all the required protective gear, plus my mud boots. We’ll be back to the trailer by noon.” Then she turned back to John. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She waved as he nodded to her and stepped away.
Tyler sat back down in his spot, his teeth grinding as he tried to come up with a reason she shouldn’t go out on a job.
“I don’t think you should go,” he began.
“Tyler, I’m here to do a job. Talking to the staff, building out a complete report—this is all part of that job. Who knows, maybe it’ll help me figure out why JB wants your company so bad. I’ll be okay.” She took his hand again.
“I’ll go . . .” he started.
Her laughter stopped him. “You’ll have enough to catch up on after taking today off. I’ll be okay.” She shook her head at him.
By the end of their lunch, he was feeling totally deflated. His worry for her going out to a job site was real and powerful. He’d been to more dig sites than he could count. He’d known of the dangers since he was a kid.
Kristen was a city dweller. She belonged in fancy clothes in a ballroom instead of wearing worn jeans and mud boots in a torn-up field where at any moment something could happen to her.
As he drove her back to her hotel, he resolved to visit the site himself. She may say she didn’t need him there, but she couldn’t stop him from showing up.
He helped her carry in the bags of items she’d purchased. Then sat on the edge of the bed as she hung up each item as if they were more precious than the ones that had been destroyed. Even though he knew she’d probably paid way less for these.
“I’ve got something for you too,” she said, holding up a small bag and waving it around.
“Oh?” He started to get up.
“No, stay put.” She edged backward, toward the bathroom. “I’ll be just a moment.” Her eyes locked with his and his mouth went dry.
When she walked out of the bathroom wearing soft pink silk shorts and a matching top, he figured he was the luckiest man alive.
He watched her move slowly toward him. His eyes tracked the sway of her hips. With each step, the light material flowed around her curves.
She stopped directly in front of him and automatically, his hands went to her hips. He couldn’t tell by touch where the silk stopped and she started. Both were equally smooth.
“Stay with me tonight,” she whispered as her green eyes moved over him.
Since his mouth had gone dry, he nodded in agreement. In truth, nothing and no one could drag him away from her at that moment.
She inched closer, and then climbed up until she straddled his hips. The pink silk top brushed against his chest and he had the sudden urge to know what it felt like next to his skin.
He tugged his jacket off, then tossed it onto the floor and started on his shirt, only to have her reach up and slowly undo his buttons for him.
“Mmm.” She smiled at him. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted to know what was underneath.” When she tossed his shirt aside, she groaned as she ran her hands over his chest.
“Me too.” He smiled and used a finger to push the thin strand of fabric off her shoulder. She closed her eyes as her head dipped back, exposing her neck. Leaning up, he ran his mouth over the milky white column until he felt her hips start to move against his.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she teased and reached for his jeans.
He shook his head and gripped her hands, holding her still. “I want to enjoy this,” he said as he kicked off his boots.
“So do I.” She twisted her hands until he freed them. Then she reached for his jeans again, her smile doubled. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in control.”
“Oh?” His breath caught as she freed him and her fingers wrapped around his length.
“My god,” she said, gripping him. Her hips swayed against him, causing his own body to jolt with desire.
When her hands flattened on his chest and she lightly pushed him, he fell backward. She nudged his jeans down his hips and he watched as she climbed on top of him. She ran her fingertips over his legs, his hips, then up his chest and back down again slowly.
“I never thought I’d enjoy this so much.” Her smile grew.
“What?” He moved his arms behind his head and watched her.
“Taking control.”
“I’m all yours to do what you want with.” His smile fell away when she moved again and this time, it was his turn to moan as the silk ran over his desire.
She trailed kisses along his neck, over his chest, down each rib. He held his breath when she reached a ticklish spot.
“Ticklish?” she said against his skin.
“As much as you are,” he joked back as she continued exploring him with her mouth. She flicked her tongue over him, causing him to jolt and grip her, holding her still.
“Kristen,” he warned.
“I’m in control, remember?”
He closed his eyes and tried to think of something, anything other than the feeling of what her lips and tongue were doing to him.
When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he pulled her up and tossed her on the other side of the bed. “Enough,” he said, meeting her eyes with his, and he yanked open a condom. She watched as he slid it on quickly.
She laughed and he slipped the wisps of material off her body. His hands returned to her hips as she opened her legs for him.
Their eyes locked as they slid together, her taking him into her searing heat. Then he began to slowly move. His fingers dug into her soft skin, guiding her, beggin
g her to never stop.
He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was too shocked at his own reaction to what she’d done to him. How could he have known she’d be like this? That she would have changed so much of his life?
What the hell was he going to do about it?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The next morning, Kristen dressed in her new jeans and sweater she’d bought, then pulled on her mud boots. On the way to the trailer, they stopped at Tyler’s house so he could get a fresh change of clothes. She sat and waited in the truck while he ran upstairs to change his clothes.
Even at this early hour, she watched several people coming and going at the Wet Spot. Despite the chill, there were three workers standing outside the door to the club smoking. Even though they were bundled in coats, she could see the short skirts and heels underneath.
She didn’t have anything against the working girls. Actually, she looked up to them. They were on their feet for hours at a time, grinding half-naked against men they didn’t necessarily find attractive, but with smiles on their faces at all times. Keeping up appearances, playing a role, and charging top dollar for their troubles. She’d heard that most oil town strippers made six digits a year.
She smiled when she saw Tyler step out of the stairwell door. Then her smile fell away when she noticed Darla approach him.
She noticed Tyler’s body language change instantly. He went from relaxed to guarded and tense. They spoke for a few minutes, then he pushed the woman gently away and walked to the truck.
When Darla noticed her sitting in the truck, she flicked her cigarette in her direction and turned to talk to her friend, who also turned and stared at Kristen.
“Problem?” she asked as he got in.
“The police let Brian go.” He sighed as his eyes stayed fixed straight ahead.
“Why?”
He glanced back at the strippers, who still had nasty sneers fixed on their faces. “According to the gossip, he’d reported the snuff box stolen almost a year ago.”
“So . . .” she trailed off.
“Whoever broke into your hotel room wanted us to believe it was Brian.”
Darla took that moment to send a wink and a kiss Tyler’s way. Then she turned and disappeared back into the blue doors.
“When will she get the hint?” Tyler said, starting the truck up as he shook his head.
“You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in town.” She held in a chuckle. “Who wouldn’t work extra hard to get you?”
His eyebrows shot up, before backing out of the parking spot. “Have you worked extra hard?”
She smiled at him. “I’ve pulled out a few tricks for some fun.”
“Is that all this is?” His hand came up and rested on her chin, holding her face so their eyes locked.
His question surprised her, and she blurted out a response without thinking. “Hasn’t it been?” She felt her heart skip.
He blinked a few times, then nodded. “I’d better get you to the trailer or John will leave without you. We’ll deal with whoever broke into your place later.”
Why had she said that? She kicked herself mentally. After all, they both knew she was leaving soon. It wasn’t as if JB was going to keep her in Montana forever.
He drove them out to the trailer. Trent and his crew were still laying fresh gravel over the mud, so the parking lot wasn’t as muddy as it could have been. Still, Tyler parked the truck in a freshly graveled spot instead of where he normally parked.
“How’s it going?” he asked his brother as he helped her down.
“Fine. We got a late start today because the tractor wouldn’t start.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Tyler left her to go into the trailer and walked over to the big machine.
The men were spreading the gravel by hand with shovels instead of using a big backhoe that had been parked at the edge of a fenced area.
Kristen walked into the trailer and saw Rea sitting at her desk, appearing small for the first time since Kristen had met her. A wave of shame hit her. Not once throughout the ordeal of the weekend had she thought of how Rea must be feeling.
“Rea?” She moved over to the woman’s desk. “I . . .”
“I’m so sorry.” Rea burst into tears and moved around the desk to enclose her in a hug.
Kristen held onto the woman and shook her head. “No, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“He’s my son. He destroyed all your things.”
“They’re just things.” She smiled at the woman. “Besides, Tyler said that they let him go. Apparently, he had reported the snuff box stolen over a year ago.”
“He’s out?” Rea shook her head and wiped a tear from her eye. “Is it bad for me to want him locked up? Even though he’s my son?”
“Have I ever told you about my aunt?” She pulled out Rea’s chair and told her the story until John walked in. Then she hugged Rea again and followed John outside.
Tyler had rolled up his sleeves and was helping the men spread the gravel when John drove his truck out of the parking area.
“It’ll take them the rest of the day doing it by hand,” the older man said, shaking his head. “Damn shame. That tractor set the boys back a few grand.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“They didn’t know. The mechanic is coming to look at it later today.”
“Tell me about the site,” she asked after a moment. “How do you determine where to dig?”
For the next few minutes, she listened to John explain how they pick a site, test it, then set up the digging and wells. The truck bumped along the muddy makeshift road. The dirt path was full of massive divots that he had to maneuver the truck around. Half the time up the access road was him gauging if he could make it around the holes. Still, he talked the entire time like driving the obstacle course was no effort at all.
She’d never known how much work went into finding oil, how many hours were invested before a drop of oil was pumped out. John even explained how McGowan Enterprises left the land after they were done. That it had been a standard that most oil companies around the States didn’t have to abide by, but Tyler’s company prided themselves on.
When they reached the site, she was shocked at how many men were working there.
“We’re still digging this one,” John added as he parked. “Haven’t hit the pay dirt yet.” He helped her down from the truck.
“Why are all the trucks out here so tall?” she asked when she almost tripped.
He chuckled at her. “They have to be, to make it up that pathway through the snow and mud. Plus, we use them sometimes to tow heavy rocks and pull down trees.”
Of course, having large vehicles that could handle the terrain and the workload made sense. She felt her face heat at her own ignorance. She really was a city slicker and felt like a fool for asking. Still, John smiled at her like the question hadn’t fazed him.
“I’ll show you around.” John started walking toward the drill. It looked a lot like a radio tower on steroids. It was massive. There was a large blue base that sat up at least two stories from the ground. The white-and-red tower hovered high above as a loud pounding noise sounded. “Here, you’ll need these.” John stopped at a station and handed her a pair of large ear muffs and a bright-green safety helmet.
She took her time putting everything on, making sure to tuck her hair under the helmet so it wouldn’t fly loose. Then she followed John up the stairs.
As they walked the site, John talked to her about the entire process of drilling and pumping oil while the machine kept up the loud digging. The noise was almost deafening, but the ear muffs helped muffle it. John would be hoarse after yelling out all the information.
She found the entire process fascinating. How they prevented hitting water and gases, pumping them out of the hole so they didn’t cause issues while looking for oil. He told her that they used a top-secret specialized method for drilling, something Tyler’s father had perfected years before.
She smiled and nodded as he shifted gears and focused again on the drilling.
“We still have about thirty-five hundred feet yet to reach our first zone,” John said, walking back down the stairs.
Her eyes wandered around the land and she zeroed in on Tyler, standing a good distance away from the bottom of the stairs. He was watching her, his hands shoved into his pockets. She almost lost her footing on the stairs when she noticed him but recovered quick enough.
“Tyler.” John walked over and shook his boss’s hand. “Didn’t know you were stopping by today.”
“I figured I’d come out and check to see how things were going,” he said, keeping his eyes on her.
She stood back and listened as John updated Tyler on the status of the dig. She’d forgotten about the ear muffs and hard hat, so tugged them off since they were well outside the work zone and since Tyler wasn’t wearing any himself.
“Well, since I’m heading back in, I’ll get her back to the trailer,” Tyler started to say.
Just then there was a loud metal-on-metal sound. Everyone turned toward the drill, and Kristen watched in horror as several men yelled and started running away. Their escape seemed both organized and chaotic, with one man even sliding down the stair railing like a firefighter to get away as quickly as possible.
Tyler took off toward the tower. She watched in horror as he climbed the stairs. He glanced back over his shoulder and yelled to her, “Stay put!”
John grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back toward the trucks. Another loud boom echoed in the field and she watched as dust and smoke lifted from the entire rig.
“Get inside and stay there!” he yelled at her, then he pulled out his phone and shouted into it as he ran toward the drill himself.
