by Maisey Yates
“Did he get it?”
She shot him a deadly glare.
“It just seems like he might have made a habit of the door thing if it worked so well.”
She sniffed. “Either way, I can open my own door.”
“You’re just being difficult.”
“Yep. Get used to it.”
“I find I am, and that concerns me a little bit.”
“It’s not so bad if we get used to each other, is it? I mean, all things considered.”
He studied her face, her hair backlit by the glowing lanterns, a golden halo that gave the illusion of sweetness and light. “I don’t know if ‘used to each other’ is the right phrase for it.” A little kick of desire hit him in the stomach. No. He definitely wasn’t used to her.
“Comfortable then.” She took a step toward him, grasping his arm, her breast brushing against his bicep. No, ‘comfortable’ wasn’t right either.
“I don’t know about that,” he said, voice tight.
They walked down the sidewalk, the night air clear and crisp, quiet, like it always was in Silver Creek. It was one of the attractions. Right now, he found it inconvenient. There was no steady sound of traffic, no other pedestrians. Nothing to distract him from the woman at his side.
To distract him from how incredibly gorgeous she was. And how incredibly hot he was for her.
“Let’s talk about other things tonight,” she said.
“I’m fine with that. What do you normally talk about on dates?”
“I’ll have to dredge up a distant memory. Um . . . if I’m trying to chase the guy away or if I like him?”
He laughed. “I want to hear how you chase them away.” He had a feeling it had to be pretty bad, because he knew he would endure a lot for the chance to kiss those perfect pink lips of hers. He’d put up with even more to have her in his bed. To have every inch of her bare, soft skin pressed against his . . .
“Well, sometimes I ignore them. Sometimes I make up work emergencies. I once told a guy I needed to know if I was going to marry someone before I seriously dated them.”
“Did you really?”
“I really did. Actually, it’s a line one of my sisters used on a guy. It worked for her though.”
“Wow.”
He opened the door to the restaurant. It was dim, and a little more crowded than he would have hoped. Especially since it seemed to be crowded with a few people he knew. He hadn’t been counting on that. What was it, local date night? They should all be drinking beer and watching football in the bar.
“Yeah, well, Sadie has a way about her. And she’s beautiful. All of my sisters married their very first loves. And they’re all younger than me. Did I mention that?”
“You did.”
“Hi, Cole.” He looked down at the hostess, a petite brunette with the kind of hourglass figure that made most men look twice. Amber Jameson, Cade’s lifelong friend and an honorary member of the family.
Just what he didn’t need.
“Hi, Amber. I didn’t know you were working here.”
Her face fell slightly. “Yeah, well. I haven’t been for very long. I needed to bring in a little extra. My grandfather’s not doing very well right now.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Amber had been brought to Silver Creek as an angry foster child and had been raised by her grandparents from then on. “Is that why I haven’t seen you out at the ranch lately?”
“Mostly,” she said, biting her lip. She wanted to say more, but wouldn’t. Amber was cagey and prickly. Which was probably why Cade got along with her so well. “I suppose you need a seat.”
“It would be nice.”
“Who’s your . . . friend?” she asked.
“Oh, Amber, this is Kelsey. Kelsey, Amber.”
Kelsey stuck out her hand, her expression slightly cool. Amber’s was friendly, and she shook Kelsey’s offered hand before grabbing a couple of red leather menus and leading them to the back of the restaurant. They sat in a booth with red pleather that matched the menus. Class was in short supply in Silver Creek, though at least an attempt had been made.
“Okay, Jessica will be your server, and she’ll be by soon. Good to see you, Cole,” Amber said, offering him a smile; one that looked sadder than usual. He would have to tell Cade so he could call and harass her. Lord knew Amber wouldn’t ask for help, not even if she needed it.
“See you around, Amber.” He picked up the menu and opened it.
“Is she . . . an ex?” Kelsey asked, pale eyebrow arched.
“No.” His chest warmed with a little satisfaction. The coolness in her demeanor had been jealousy. Interesting. “She’s one of Cade’s best friends. One of his only friends. I don’t know if you noticed but he’s a difficult bastard to like.”
“I like him.”
“Well, women do. He’s charming, but he’s a flake. Not so much these days though. He can’t get around fast enough anymore, which means he can’t disappear into the night as efficiently as he used to.”
“He has itchy feet, huh?”
“He always has.” Though, recent revelations regarding their dad considered, Cade’s itchy feet made a lot more sense now than they had in the past. Cade had always seemed like he was running from something, because that was exactly what he’d been doing.
“What about you? You just . . . You always wanted to stay here?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about an alternative. My mom died when I was a kid. This is the only place where I have memories of her. My dad . . . well, he was my hero and he was a rancher. I was trained from an early age to run it, and it was all I knew. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to go out and take a gamble when you have resources right at your fingertips.”
“But is it what you want?” she asked, opening her menu and perusing it.
“It’s what I do. It’s a part of me. I don’t know if I could do anything else. For me, it’s always been about doing what was . . . right.” He’d never really put it into words before, but then, he’d never really given it a lot of thought. He’d always been expected to take over Elk Haven, and so he’d always worked toward it.
It was his piece of the world. His place. It was in his blood. He didn’t have a burning passion for it, but he doubted he could leave it and be happy. But then, he’d always considered it to be a legacy. To be part of the Mitchells. But his dad hadn’t really had his whole life there. He’d had another life. So maybe he was wrong about all of it.
“So you were the good son. What’s that like?”
“I don’t know if I’m the good son.”
“Trust me. You are. My sisters are all the good sister. I’m the black sheep. The one out of five. The can’t-win-’em-all. I’m the one that gets whispered about at every family gathering. Such an odd duck. Unmarried. Career. At a certain point, I either had to embrace it or try and fit back into the fold.”
“I take it you embraced it.”
“Well, yeah, the unwed-mother-by-choice thing kinda gives that away, doesn’t it?”
He laughed. “Yes, that it does.”
“If I worried too much about what they thought, about their ideals . . . I wouldn’t be able to get what I wanted.”
“What do you want, Kelsey?”
“I think the steak is probably a good idea,” she said.
“Not from the menu. From life.”
She laughed. “Oh. I thought you were talking food, not getting philosophical. See how bad my dates have been recently?”
“At least they’ve existed,” he said.
She shrugged. “I lied to escape them, so I’m not sure it’s better. Uh . . . what do I want? I want to be happy. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I guess.”
She paused, looking down at her hands. “And I sort of wish that someday . . . my family could be happy for me. Happy that my choices have been right for me. I don’t know if they ever will be.”
“Is it important?”
“I don’t know—mostly because it
hasn’t happened yet.”
Their server, who Cole knew from high school, came by and took their order. Kelsey ordered a steak—an expensive one—and handed her menu back to the waitress.
She couldn’t explain the little bubble of jealousy that had ballooned in her chest and had seemed to expand with every word Amber had spoken to him when they’d first walked in. It hadn’t helped that the other woman was different from her in appearance. Petite, curvy, with glossy brown hair and eyes.
She hadn’t really felt any better when he’d dismissed her as a friend of Cade’s. Because the biggest problem wasn’t who Amber was, but why it had mattered to her.
Fortunately, the interruption by the waitress had put a halt to the deep conversation, and they surfaced to make small talk until the meal arrived.
“It is a nice steak,” she said.
“And you feel up to eating it?”
“Beef is agreeing with me. Anyway, I feel so much better. Hardly sick at all now.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t like seeing you like that.”
The caring admission made her stomach feel warm. Another feeling she didn’t want to analyze too deeply.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t really enjoy being myself when I was like that.”
“I don’t know that their approval would make you happier,” he said slowly.
“What?”
“I’m not sure it’s been my experience. I did everything that was asked of me, and things haven’t been a whole lot easier, even with the approval of my parents.”
She traced lines over her mashed potatoes with her fork tines. “I was afraid of that.”
“I’m not really a self-examiner. But going through life, I’ve had a lot of things change. So in my experience, nothing is ever really done and settled. You don’t reach the finish line until you die, and until then, things change. My mom died, then I got married, my dad died, I got divorced, Cade got injured. It always changes. And you always keep going.”
“So you’re saying I won’t reach a magical place where I know I’ve made it?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“I was expecting to hit a place in my life where it would be . . . perfect. Confetti would rain down, the band would play, I could go stand on the big pedestal that read ‘Number One’ and hold a big trophy over my head.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Did you?”
“No. Well, yeah, without the fanfare. I mean, I thought I would get somewhere and I would have it all figured out. I’ve been waiting for my aha moment.”
“I don’t think those exist. You just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.”
“I like my version better. It’s a lot more exciting.”
“It also has confetti.”
“There would be a cake too. With ‘Congratulations, Kelsey! You no longer suck at life!’ written on it.”
“Vanilla?”
“No. What’s wrong with you? No. A congratulatory life achievements cake is only ever going to be chocolate.”
“Fair enough. But if the confetti doesn’t rain down and no one bakes a cake?”
“Then I guess one foot in front of the other works.” She was planned out. Planned to near death. She was trying to map out the future, and she couldn’t, because the variables were too numerous and too large. Anyway, her plans had a way of going awry in a pretty huge way.
One foot in front of the other she could do. For now. It wasn’t how she did things, but the temptation to do it now was just too great.
Right now, Cole was the sexiest guy in the room. If a random sampling of other rooms was taken and brought into the restaurant, he would probably still be the sexiest.
He made her heart race. He made her body ache. He made her want to have that amazing, uninhibited rebound sex she’d never had after her breakup. That part was inconvenient.
Or maybe it wasn’t. She was on vacation from reality tonight, after all. And all her good intentions about keeping things uncomplicated were starting to get shoved way off to the side.
Chapter Fourteen
In the spirit of being on vacation from reality, and not thinking too far ahead, Kelsey didn’t decide for or against kissing Cole at the end of the date. She was just going to see what happened.
He walked her from the car back to her cabin, his flashlight illuminating the path just enough to see immediately in front of them. A grand continuation of the evening’s metaphor.
When they were both on the porch, in front of the door, her stomach tightened, her heart rate increasing. It felt so juvenile, so immature, so amazing, to be standing there at the end of a date wondering if she’d get a kiss.
It seemed a lot simpler than focusing on reality. And a lot more fun.
She took a step toward him. Then another. She watched his breathing speed up, watched his chest pitch sharply. She took another step. He was right; this was easy.
And she wasn’t going to wonder about getting a kiss. She was getting one. She decided on that while she was leaning in, had committed to it completely only when her lips touched his.
The feel of his mouth against hers shocked her, rendered her motionless, and then boneless. Thankfully, Cole was quick. He wrapped his arms around her and kept her buckling knees from sending her to the ground in an undignified heap.
She put her hands flat on his chest, the only movement she could manage with him holding her so tightly, and angled her head, letting him deepen the kiss. Welcoming the hot sweep of his tongue against hers.
A shiver worked its way through her body, leaving behind an unsatisfied ache. His big hands slid down her back, stopping just before the curve of her butt.
Oh, just a little further.
She wanted his hands on her. Everywhere. She wanted him, naked and pressed against her and naked. Because it had been too long. Even longer since she’d wanted someone this much. It was entirely possible that she’d never wanted anyone this much.
And it had happened so fast. Just the touch of Cole’s lips and she’d caught fire. And now the flame was dangerously close to burning out of control.
She wiggled just enough to get her arms free and move to cup his face, her thumbs skimming his stubble-roughened cheeks, fingers lacing through his dark hair. She pulled him closer, pulled them both backward so that they stumbled. The wall of the cabin kept her from falling, her back pressed against it, Cole’s hard chest solid in front of her.
She felt trapped, in the very best way. A willing captive, for sure.
His hands moved back up and she just about growled with disapproval until they migrated lower, one hot hand resting on her rear.
He couldn’t be the only one who was allowed to explore.
She slid her hands down his chest, the heat and hard muscle beneath his shirt evident, and a big, enticing tease. When she reached his belt, she pushed her fingertips beneath the shirt. It was sensory overload. Hot skin, the ripple of abs, and up further, crisp chest hair. He was so masculine. Everything she wasn’t. Everything she’d deprived herself of for far too long.
He leaned into her and she took her hands out from beneath his shirt, anxious to close any distance between them. She could feel his erection, hard and thick against her hip. She arched into him, wishing she was a little taller so she could move against him just right and satisfy some of that hollow, painful arousal that was threatening to take over her body and brain.
He lifted his head, wrenching his lips from hers, stumbling backward. “Damn,” he said.
“Right. Do you want to come . . . in?”
She realized how lame that sounded, but not until after she said it. She was breathless, and it was obvious. She was desperate too. For him. For fulfillment. She was afraid that was pretty obvious as well.
“I shouldn’t.”
“I know you shouldn’t, but will you?”
He looked like he was seriously considering it. And while he considered it, she let her eyes drift downward, to the very obvious bulge in his jeans.
Oh, she wanted him to come in. Badly.
“I . . .” She’d never seen Cole look more conflicted, not even when he was trying to decide between fatherhood and running from her and never looking back. He shifted, his eyes focused on a spot just to the left of her head. “I don’t think I can.”
“What?”
He looked just as shocked as she felt. “It’s too complicated, Kelsey.”
“Dammit,” she said. “I know that. I really do know that. I just . . .” How did she explain, without terminally embarrassing herself, that he was the only man who’d seemed worth the risk in longer than she could remember? There really wasn’t a way to do it. And if she was honest, he wasn’t worth the risk.
Because they had a good thing now. Now, they could do holidays and birthdays and Sundays together if they wanted, because they had no real attachment to each other. And none had been broken either. They could meet and be friends, and their child could have parents who were civil to each other.
But introducing sex . . . well, that would screw everything up. At least it had the potential to. There was no chance of no-strings sex with him, because she and Cole had nothing but strings.
She swallowed heavily, ignoring the ache in her core. “Good night.”
He frowned, his expression pained. Regretful.
Good.
“Good night.” He turned and walked down the steps. She stood and watched him until he melted into the shadow of the path.
***
“Why is there no more beer?” Cole growled to the empty kitchen.
“You sound like you need more than beer.” Cade walked in and opened a cabinet, reaching up to the top and moving some glasses aside until he produced a bottle of whiskey. “This is what you sound like you need.”
“It hardly seems fair,” he said, taking the bottle from Cade’s hand.
“Why is that?”
“Kelsey can’t drink this problem away for a few hours. I can though, and I intend to do it.”
“A man after my own heart.” Cade took two small glasses down and set them on the counter. “So, other than the surprise pregnancy”—he took the bottle back from Cole and poured a decent portion into each glass—“what is driving you to drink?”
