by Maisey Yates
The kiss had started out as manipulation. Just like the removal of his shirt. Conceited that he was using his body as a tactic to seduce her, maybe. But it had worked.
The kiss hadn’t ended as manipulation, though. At least not for him. He had a feeling that she could snap a leash on him and lead him around if she wanted to after that.
“Go ahead and make your lewd quip and let’s move on,” he said.
Cade raised his eyebrows. “Lewd quip? What the hell does that mean?”
“I know your deep dark secret, Cade. I know you got As in English, so don’t even pretend.”
“I’m not going to say anything. I think you’re damn smart.”
“Do you? I question that myself.”
“You want her to marry you, right?”
“Right.”
“So, that seems a good enough way to go about it to me. In my opinion, sexual attraction would be about the best enticement for marriage. Really good, blinding sexual attraction; not your common, garden-variety kind. You know, the special kind. The kind that has you so out of your mind you just about do it in the barn during work hours.”
Cole grunted. “I’m not overly familiar with that last kind.”
“Really? I assumed you had to feel some kind of crazy for Shawna. Well, I assumed she must have magic powers beneath her—what I am sure were sequined—panties.”
“There was the lewd comment. Just not where I expected it. Yeah, I was nuts about her. And about . . . sex with her. When I got it. But it still wasn’t like . . . that. She’s . . .” he let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “She’s something else.”
“She is. Hell, I’d be tempted to propose if you hadn’t.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean propose. I meant proposition.” Cade offered him his best lopsided, devilish smile.
“Now that sounds more like you.”
“How are you doing?” Cade asked, his tone suddenly serious.
“How am I doing? Do you really want a play-by-play? It could become a case of too much information real quick.”
“I don’t mean now, specifically. I mean in general. With the dad shit.”
“Oh, that. I don’t know; I’d kind of like to run away and join a rodeo, but I’m not a dumb teenager, so I don’t have the luxury.”
Cade nodded slowly. “Yeah, I wanted to run away to the rodeo too. And as soon as I was old enough? I did.”
“Lucky bastard.”
“But you’re going to have a kid. No running from that.”
Cole shook his head. “I don’t even want to.”
Cade cleared his throat. “Look, I know you think I’m a screw-up and a jackass, and basically, you’re right. I am. But I can do more than I have. I’m not going back to the circuit,” he said, the admission heavy. “I know it. You know it. I hadn’t admitted it fully to myself, so I’ve been holding back around here. Not wanting to get too involved. But there you go. I should start taking on more responsibility around here, and I can. I should start helping you clean up dad’s mess.”
“Thank you,” he said, his arousal completely doused now. “I appreciate it.”
Cade stuck out his hand and Cole grasped it. “Anything. Whatever you need. You know that.”
“I do.” He clapped his brother on the back. “You’re still an asshole.”
Chapter Eighteen
“He proposed, Alex,” Kelsey said into the phone. She was stretched across her new bed, trying to ignore the fact that her pulse was still racing, her body still on red alert. All systems were completely go.
“What?” Alexa screamed into the phone.
“Yep. There was a ring.”
“And you said no, right?”
“I said hell no.”
“Good girl. I’m proud of you. Why does he want to marry you? Does he think he’s doing the right thing?” The last few words were dripping with disdain.
“Basically.”
“Typical. Old-fashioned male possessiveness. You start gestating and they get all caveman. Drag you back to their cave by your hair.”
Kelsey couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping.
“What?” Alexa asked, her tone flat.
“I would love to be dragged back to his cave,” she said, the admission rushed. “By the hair. Oh, even that sounds hot.”
“Oh, would you?”
“I want him so much.” She covered her mouth after the words escaped, as if that would make them less spoken. Or less true.
“Join the club. I still want that pantywaist cowboy who was too chicken to take me on in the sack.”
Kelsey knew from experience that the more hostile and dismissive Alexa was about something, the more she wanted it.
“It sucks. And the thing is, I think he’s dangling a carrot.”
Alexa snorted. “Oh, geez. Dangling carrots. There’s an image.”
“Har har. I mean, I think he’s withholding sex so I’ll agree to marry him.”
“What a bitch!”
“I know, right?” She let out a breath. “The thing is, though, that I can’t really sleep with him, because it would complicate things.”
“Right, because things are sooooo simple right now. With him proposing and you being pregnant and also dying of the wanting.”
Kelsey growled. “No. Things aren’t simple. They’ve never been simple, but say we . . . hook up. And then we break up. And then we have this big bad thing between us and it turns us into a bitter couple sharing custody and then . . . and then we’ve just sent it all to hell, all so we can get off.”
“You wouldn’t be the first people to do that.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make it right. Other people don’t have the option of starting out with the blank slate we have. We should take advantage of the blank slate, not . . . scribble on it.”
“Maybe you aren’t giving yourself enough credit. Maybe you could burn off the attraction between the two of you and then put it behind you. Maybe it would be better.”
“Alex, you are my shoulder devil. You make being bad sound so good. And so easy.”
Alexa laughed. “It’s a gift.”
“So what are you going to do about Tyler?”
“There isn’t much I can do. Except keep calling him and telling him all the wonderful, dirty things I want to do with him.”
“Poor guy.”
“I like him, Kelsey,” Alexa said, sounding subdued. “I like him, and it scares me. I haven’t actually cared for anyone in a really long time.”
“Don’t let fear keep you from something good, Alexa. You deserve to be happy.”
There was a long pause, and Alexa sighed deeply. “I’ll do my best. And maybe you should take your own advice.”
Kelsey put her thumb up to her lips and started chewing her nail. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Not maybe. Definitely.”
“If you say so,” she said. There was a knock at her door. “Oh, hey, I have to go. Talk to you soon?”
“Yeah. I’ll call Tyler now.”
“Heh. Don’t blister his ears.” She hit the end-call button and tossed the phone onto the bed. “Come in.”
It was Cole, and it didn’t surprise her. She was starting to know him by his knock, which was strange and sobering. She didn’t want to know him that well.
He was so big that he filled up the room, made it seem smaller. More intimate. It was so very dangerous for him to be in a room that contained both her and a bed. It gave her very wicked thoughts. Or, rather, it heightened the wicked thoughts she already had.
“Hey, sorry about before. About . . . Cade catching us.”
“I’m sure he had a million extremely off-color comments.”
Cole scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Surprisingly . . . no. I think he must like you. He’s less of a jerk where you’re concerned.”
“Well . . . that’s flattering.”
“I don’t know. He’s not the best judge of character.”
His expression turned serious—smoldering, almost. “And so you know, I’m just saying, I don’t let go of things I want easily.”
She took a deep breath and stared him down. “If you want me, you can have me.” Her words were so much bolder than she felt. Inside, she was a quivering mass of jelly. “You can have me now, right here on this bed. I think we’re both up for it.”
“That’s not what I want,” he said, his voice rough.
“Liar. You want it. I felt how much you wanted it.” She swallowed hard, not sure where this boldness was coming from. She felt like she was channeling Alexa. Channeling some woman who wasn’t her. One with savvy and sophistication and some idea of how to seduce a man.
It seemed to be working though. Because he looked paler, and his eyes looked intense.
She took a step toward him, and this time she had no intention of keeping her touch platonic. She raised her hand, ready to put it on his chest, but he caught it.
She stared at where his fingers, dark and strong, wrapped around her arm, so pale and delicate-looking in his hand. He raised it slowly to his lips and turned it so that the sensitive part of her wrist was exposed. He pressed his lips to her skin, and she felt the impact through her entire body.
“I won’t lie,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. “I do want you. And not tumbling you back on the bed is taking a hell of a lot of willpower. But I want more than that. I want you to marry me, make a family with me. I don’t just want sex. I want more.”
She pulled her arm free and took a step back. “You say that like you’re offering the moon and the stars. You don’t want more. You want to keep me with you. You want to have control. You want to have me with you, in your bed and by your side, so you don’t have to suffer any kind of separation or inconvenience. No thank you, sir. I’d rather just have the sex.”
Something deadly flashed in his eyes, something dark and sexual that tugged at her, called to her, and for a moment, she thought he might tumble her back on the bed.
Then he turned away, and she was tempted to try and goad him to touch her again. Because he was on the edge of control, and it wouldn’t take much to push him over. She could sense it, could feel it echoing inside of her.
His kisses had been a taste of a kind of sexual paradise she’d never experienced. In her mind, Cole knew how to push all the right buttons. He was the man who could take her that peak that authors wrote about in romance novels, and that women rhapsodized about. The kind of peak she’d never found herself on.
There was the other option too. That he was a hot guy who was used to knocking a girl on her back, spreading her legs and getting his way. There was the possibility that sex with him wouldn’t be the amazing thing she was fantasizing about.
Yes, there was that possibility.
She looked at his face, felt the heat in his eyes burn into her. She didn’t really believe that. And if it was true . . . well, it would be a waste of a lot of potential. Cole was a man who could light a woman on fire. Just thinking about him brought her to the peak. How was that even possible? Frankly, she was used to being responsible for her own orgasm. What she wasn’t used to was a man with the ability to just look at her and get her halfway there. And his kiss . . . she was a lot more than halfway after that.
“That’s really all you want?” he asked. “Then find it with someone else. Someone you don’t have to deal with on a more complex level. Because like it or not, we can’t have simple. We can’t have just sex. We’re having a baby, and we have to be parents together. I don’t think we can do both.”
“What if I do?” she asked. She wasn’t sure if she did. She never had before. She’d found one guy and stuck with him, through all kinds of stupid crap, because she’d felt so bonded to him. She wasn’t sure if she was capable of sex without . . . well, attachment at least. But it felt good to spit those words out at him. To defy him, and herself, with them.
He looked at her, lifted his hand and brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. “I don’t believe it, sweetheart, not for a second. If I did . . . if I did, it might be different.” The last words were rough, strained. She knew how he felt.
He dropped his hand back to his side and turned away from her. He was going to leave again. Walk away and leave all this sexual attraction burning between them and do nothing to satisfy it.
“You’re being such a . . . such a girl,” she said. It was stupid, but she was desperate to keep him there, for just a few more seconds. She regretted she hadn’t pushed him over the edge when she’d had the chance. Because she had had the chance. She’d had him raw and on the cusp of losing control. And now she’d given him a chance to regain it. Rookie mistake.
He stopped, but he didn’t turn. “It’s not consideration for myself that’s stopping me. And that’s what you call being a gentleman.”
He walked out the door and closed it behind him.
“Well, touché,” she muttered.
***
It became abundantly clear over the next few days that Cole was trying to seduce her into marrying him. He took his shirt off while working, a lot. And he didn’t have the decency to have an ounce of fat on his broad, muscular frame. He didn’t even have the decency to have back hair.
Not only that, he smiled at her a lot. And his smile was so sexy it made her knees weak. Literally. Weak knees. Who actually got weak knees around a guy?
She did, apparently. At least around this guy.
Was it pregnancy hormones? It was really convenient to have that to place blame on. Anything else was just too scary.
She leaned over the porch railing and clutched her mug of tea tighter as Cole came into view. He was walking up from the paddocks, shirtless again, jeans low on his hips, cowboy hat on his head. He looked ridiculous and stereotypical. And good enough to eat.
She watched his abs as he got closer, the way they moved. She was really messed up. And a lot horny.
He tromped up the steps, his boots echoing on the porch. “Good afternoon.” He leaned in, and her heart stopped as his lips brushed her cheek.
And then, stupidly, she wanted to cry. Because he was manipulating her. Trying to get her to agree to his marriage-perfect-family-plan. And the all-out, check-out-my-sexy-bod seduction was annoying, but it was so over the top she could deal with it.
This, the show of tenderness—that she couldn’t handle. It was too close to feelings. And when she started having feelings about Cole she started wanting, longing for, things she really shouldn’t want or long for.
Not now. Not with him.
That was just convenience stuff. Forced proximity and the intense connection they’d had to find, quickly, while they dealt with the reality of being parents together.
Really. That was all.
She pulled away from him, her hold on the mug reaching death-grip status. “How has your day been?” she asked, her voice stilted. She wanted to scold him for touching her, for kissing her, like he had a right to. Like they were a happy couple. Like he was going to make good on the tease and get her naked later, when they both knew none of that was true.
But that would be giving too much away. There was no reason for him to know he affected her at all. She would get over it.
“Fine,” he said. “I managed to go a day without gambling in a casino or conceiving another secret child.”
“Ha,” she said.
“Hey, at some point I have to learn to laugh at it, right?” he said dryly.
“I don’t know; do you?”
“Seems better than sulking about it.”
“Or dealing with it?”
“Maybe this is how I’ll deal with it,” he said.
“And then you’ll tell Lark?”
He shrugged. “Someday.”
She could tell the subject was closed. “Speaking of, Lark told me you had a huge booking. It’s for midsummer. Some kind of work retreat. Like one of those trust
things, where they stand on a stump and fall back and their coworkers have to catch them.”
“Oh, good. My favorite sort of clientele. Well, not really, but any kind that fills up the cabins makes me happy. In just a couple of weeks we should start having guests. They usually show up in June.”
“That’ll be interesting.”
“Doesn’t change much for me. I am not guest services.”
“I’m not entirely surprised by that. But if you walked around like that while they were here, or if you put that in the brochure, I bet you’d get more women to come out.”
The corners of his lips turned up into a real smile; not a smirk, not some self-satisfied, controlled expression. “Are you flirting with me?”
She shook her head. “No.” Yes, she was. And why in the world was she doing that?
“I think you are, sweetheart.”
“I think it’s been so long since a woman flirted with you that you’re grasping at straws.”
“Hasn’t been that long.”
A little flash of jealousy assaulted her. “Oh, really?”
“Last time I went to a bar with Cade, in fact.”
“When was that?”
“A couple months ago. I’ve been busy since.” He looked at her pointedly.
“I see. And what was the result of the flirtation?”
“Nothing. I bought her a drink and talked with her for a couple of minutes. And then I remembered about how I met my ex in a bar, and let me tell you, fantasies about my ex are sort of the equivalent of a cold shower. With scorpions. In other words, not sexy. So I went home alone.”
“Oh.” She was annoyed at the idea of a woman hitting on him, which was stupid. But she also felt . . . sad. Because she could imagine how he’d felt. Sitting there, talking to someone, something that should have been normal and easy, and then having it all go south.
It sounded like the story of her dating life.
“I never think about her when I kiss you,” he said softly.
“I appreciate that.” Her words barely came out a whisper. “I, um . . . don’t get flirted with very often. I think it’s because I work at home. And when I go out I tend to have that whole hostile, don’t-talk-to-me thing going on.”
