by Tessa Layne
He smiled tightly. “You’ve already done that, sweetheart.”
The shuttered expression in his eyes twisted something deep in her. She’d hurt him. The realization stunned her. It made no sense. She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that she had the power to hurt someone. Especially Blake. If she could hurt him… that meant…
Oh God.
She needed, no – she wanted to make this right. Even if it scared the shit out of her. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.
She patted the empty space next to her, entreating him with her eyes.
“Lie next to me? Please?”
His expression instantly became guarded. She couldn’t blame him. She’d kick herself out of the house if she were him. Fake engagement be damned. He nodded once, keeping his eyes locked with hers.
Slowly, he undid the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the loops and tossing it on the bench under the window. Oh lordy, was he stripteasing her? Even in the dim light, she recognized the carnal hunger in his eyes. Her stomach dropped as butterflies tickled her insides. He undid the buttons of his jeans with short, swift movements, letting them drop to his ankles. There, as obvious as the moon in the sky, was his enormous erection, prominently jutting out of his boxer briefs.
Her mouth turned to sand. Instinctively, she knew. All she needed to do was reach out and touch him, and he would be hers. And yet… the fear of jumping in with both feet messed with her logic. Fear was an irrational response to a logical set of circumstances.
Circumstances indicated sex with Blake was the next logical step. And evidence from the barn showed it would not suck. Not in the least. He gave great orgasms. So why was she afraid? Her heart slammed against her ribs as the answer floated in front of her.
She liked him.
A whole damn lot.
She shut her eyes, letting the weight of the realization sink in. Liking Blake opened up a Pandora’s box of messy thoughts and emotions she was too tired to dissect. They would keep until morning, when she could examine everything with fresh eyes.
She patted the pillow again, and removed her glasses. “Come on. Maybe we’ll sleep tonight.”
He nodded, and kicked out of his jeans. He stepped around, and pushing the light off, slipped into bed beside her.
Something shifted in her again. Like a key turning in a lock. Blake stretched out next to her, wrapping his arms around her. He place a kiss on her shoulder, dropped his head and shut his eyes.
For the first time in a week, she slept.
CHAPTER 17
Maddie startled awake. The phone buzzed insistently next to the bed. Flailing for it, she brought it close, checking the time. Seven-thirty. Blake had slipped out and let her sleep. She’d risen early with him the mornings he’d slept on the floor. She couldn’t sleep with him so close, and she hadn’t wanted to come across as a princess. Besides, she was having trouble working at the hospital. Her dad was a big spoiled baby. And early mornings at the Big House were quiet.
The phone buzzed again. Martha. Her heart dropped. Not again? No. The hospital would contact her first if something happened. But what if she’d been asleep?
“Martha? Everything okay?” She couldn’t keep the edge of panic from her voice. Or her heart from banging relentlessly into her ribs.
“Tell me you’re not already on your way to see Warren.”
Shaking the remaining fog from her head, she sat up. “No, no. I usually work here until eight or nine, then drive in.”
“Well, not today, honey. Eddie is gonna relieve you a spell. Boys are covering for him today.”
“Great. Tell him thanks.” She hated it, but relief surged through her. The mental drain from babysitting her dad had stretched her thin, and she was getting behind on her research.
“Don’t go filling your calendar though. Dottie and I have plans for you.”
Warning bells sounded. The two best friends were up to no good.
“I’d love to, but I really need to catch up on my research. Raincheck?”
“Not this time, Maddie Jane.”
She recognized that tone. The one that meant no arguing whatsoever.
“But I promise we won’t monopolize your whole day. Just the morning. Now, be shoe shined and ready to go at nine. We’ll pick you up.”
She couldn’t say no. Martha was a second mother to her. Especially since hers had died so young. Growing up on a horse farm full of testosterone hadn’t been easy. Martha’d been the one to make sure she washed her hair and taught her how to walk in high heels. She and Uncle Eddie had helped her apply to MIT at fifteen, even though they’d cautioned her against it. Her dad had been fit to be tied. Wouldn’t talk to any of them for a week when she announced she would attend college the following fall. Saying no to Martha was out of the question.
“I’ll be ready.”
Promptly at nine, a carload of women turned up the long drive between the Big House and the barn, honking and hanging out the windows. Relieved Blake wasn’t around to see this, she smoothed the pair of jeans she’d borrowed from Emma’s closet. They were too long, but she’d rolled them up past her ankles and paired them with her heels. They’d work in a pinch.
Opening the door, the women practically fell out like a clown car at a circus. “Hen Party,” they screeched, their raucous laughter bouncing off the limestone. Her heart sank to the tips of her toes.
Noooo.
No. No. No.
She plastered on a smile, hoping that her face didn’t convey what a horrible idea this was.
Millie Prescott, the lovely woman who ran the organic grocery, had joined them and was holding an open bottle of champagne. What was she doing here? Millie was about her age, but they didn’t know each other very well. She’d been homeschooled growing up, because her parents had played the county fair circuit. Prairie had been their home base, and their little farm had been one of the first in the area to go organic. Last she’d heard, they’d planted three acres of champagne grapes, and were trying to bottle it.
Oh lordy, if that was the champagne…
Next to Martha was Gloria McPherson, the organist at First Lutheran, holding plastic cups. She’d never seen Gloria crack a smile ever. And here she was holding her sides with laughter. Had they dragged her into an alternate universe? Worse, were they drunk?
Dottie bustled up with a glittery plastic tiara that read “Bridezilla” attached to a piece of white tulle. For a wild moment, she considered making a run for it to the barn.
No. Way.
She drew the line at the crown.
She had to preserve her dignity.
Before she could protest, Dottie placed the tiara on her head and Gloria pushed a plastic glass of champagne into her hands. “Do you like it? I ordered it off Amazon.”
She nodded, keeping the smile in place. As long as no one took a picture.
Millie stepped up shyly. “Congratulations, Maddie. I’m so happy for you.”
As much as she wanted to run and hide – in the barn or in the man-attic – she couldn’t. She’d grin and bear it and thank her lucky stars Blake and his brothers were out in the middle of the property today, checking on the herd. She’d never live this down if they saw her like this.
She took a sip of the champagne, keeping her face neutral. Not bad in a box wine kind of way. Jamey would dismiss it immediately, but it was better than she’d expected.
“Mmm. Delicious. Is this from the grapes I heard your family’s planted?”
Millie smiled, a look of relief passing over her face. “Yes, it’s our very first bottling.”
Martha beamed from behind Millie’s shoulder. “Dottie and I decided to ask Millie to help with your wedding. She’s good at pulling things together. We’ve bought up the entire first vintage to serve at your reception.”
She choked on the champagne she’d been about to swallow, ending in a fit of coughs. This wedding was spinning out of control too fast. She had to talk to Blake tonight about coming clean to eve
ryone. She couldn’t lead them on this way. Not when everyone was so excited.
“That’s lovely.” She plastered her smile back on. “I’m thrilled. But we haven’t set a date yet.”
“Don’t worry. Eddie called about an hour ago, he thinks Warren will get to come home next weekend. So we could set the wedding for two weeks from then. Won’t it be perfect?”
No. It would be a disaster.
Getting married in less than three weeks’ time was impossible. She and Blake barely knew each other. They hadn’t even discussed children. Or their favorite colors.
She shook herself mentally. Why was she thinking like marrying him was even a remote possibility? It wasn’t. Blake was a gentleman, he was smart, and so, so hot. And she liked him. God, did she like him. But he was perfect for someone else. She was not marriage material. For him or anyone else. And she refused to become a rancher’s wife.
She opened her mouth to protest, and the picture of them – the three older women, and the younger one, smiling brightly with joy and expectation – slammed into her heart. Was she so hardened that she would destroy all of this in a few words? This would all fall apart soon enough. May as well wait until it all comes out at once. Guilt roiled in her stomach, churning the champagne.
Dottie clapped her hands, bringing silence to the little circle. “Ladies, it’s time to get this bridal show on the road. But first Millie, pour out the rest of that champagne and let’s toast our girl.”
Millie poured the remains of the bottle into the plastic cups and passed them around.
Dottie lifted her glass. “To Maddie, the brightest star in the night sky. You’ve made Prairie proud, and we wish you all the happiness.”
She couldn’t take a sip. The lump in her throat prevented swallowing. “This really isn’t necessary.”
“Maddie Jane, this is Prairie tradition. It’s bad luck if we don’t.” Dottie took a sip from her cup, then handed it to Martha. “Driving,” she winked.
Maddie looked to Martha for help. Martha just patted her cheek and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t think you can escape, Maddie Jane. Hope will get this, too.”
“As will every one of my girls,” chimed in Dottie. “Even if we have to fly to Afghanistan to do it.”
“You can call us the Prairie Posse,” Gloria added, waving her fingers. “Sprinkling joy and laughter wherever we go.”
Maddie laughed nervously. Longing for Jamey shot through her. Stuff like this was right up Jamey’s alley. But she hadn’t yet had the nerve to tell Jamey about her supposed engagement.
The women hustled her to the car, and she found herself squeezed in the back between Millie and Gloria. Dottie spun the car around and they started down the long driveway.
“Where to?”
Martha turned around from the passenger seat. “Dottie’s put together a nice little brunch for us, and we have a few surprises in store.” She grinned wickedly.
This was a new side of Martha. She’d only ever known Martha the ranch wife. Martha the counselor. Martha who ran the domestic side of Hansen Stables with an iron fist. This Martha, who giggled like a teenager, who joked and laughed, was a revelation. They all were.
She turned to Gloria, who was practically bouncing in her seat waiting to talk. She couldn’t quite reconcile the memories of Gloria banging out ‘This Little Light of Mine’ in the church basement during Sunday School with the vibrant, mirthful woman next to her.
“What is it Gloria?” Martha asked. “Are you about to wet your pants or do you have something to tell us?”
“Both.” She giggled.
“Well spit it out. And Dottie, drive faster. But don’t get us a ticket. If Travis pulls us over, she’ll tinkle.”
“He is rather cute though. Don’t you think?”
Huh. The older women of Prairie, ogling the cops. Maddie pressed her lips shut to keep her own giggles down.
“I’ll keep lookout,” offered Millie.
And they were delinquents, too.
They sped across the back roads and in twenty minutes were pulling onto the Grace ranch. Significantly smaller than the Sinclaire and Hansen spreads, Teddy Grace only ran a few hundred head of cattle a year. But their farmhouse, clear on the other side of town, had been lived in by Graces since the Civil War.
As the front porch came into view though, her heart flopped and she bit back a groan.
They had gone all out.
The porch had been decorated in pink and white hearts. The pillars wrapped in white satin. The extent of the women’s scheming became evident as they exited the car and made their way up the wide steps.
The table the Graces used in warm weather, and where Maddie remembered doing homework after school on occasion, was covered in white with a large bouquet of pink carnations in the center. Mini bouquets of white and pink carnations flanked the centerpiece.
Dottie’s best china and silver had been laid out, the chairs draped with tulle, three bottles of champagne sat in a bucket on the floor, and three large white cakes were placed on a makeshift sideboard in front of the picture window. The sideboard had also been draped with tulle and flowers.
It was the most hideous thing she’d ever seen.
The furniture version of a gaudy, over decorated cupcake.
It pulled at her heartstrings.
Until she noticed the neon pink condom wrappers at the center of each plate. And the pink penis glitter tossed over the tablecloth. And the pink penis balloons hanging at the ends of the porch.
“Martha?” she tilted her head in question.
She giggled. “We know these bachelorette parties you kids throw these days include genitalia. So we thought you’d enjoy it.”
Her smile froze in place. Keep smiling. She had to keep smiling.
“Where did you-?” She stopped. She didn’t want to know.
Gloria piped up. “Isn’t the glitter cute? I got it all on a website called Adam Eve Toys.” She grinned like she’d discovered a hidden treasure chest. “They send you a gift package.”
Maddie raised her eyebrows, certain she didn’t want to know, but that Gloria was going to tell.
“Do you think I should get one for Teddy?” Dottie asked as she unwrapped the champagne top.
Gloria’s eyes grew big. “Oh yes. It had a vibrator, and feathers, and warming lube. I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages.”
The inevitable flush started creeping up her neck. Maddie didn’t know whether to laugh or hope for the earth to swallow her whole.
Dottie twisted the cork off with a loud ‘pop’. “Maddie, men can’t abide a prude. We’ve all had children. We understand and enjoy the mechanics. Well, except Millie here. She doesn’t have children.”
“But I know all about the mechanics,” Millie clarified. “My parents used to play the Oregon Country Fair in Veneta. People would have sex in the bushes all the time. I was curious, so I watched.”
“You watched?” Maddie’s mind went blank. She had just heard it all.
Gloria patted her arm. “Close your mouth, dearie, you’re catching flies,” Why weren’t these ladies as surprised as she was?
“Well, sure,” Millie answered. “You all grew up around animals having sex. People are animals…” She shrugged, taking the glass that Dottie offered her. “I was always fascinated by the people getting oral sex.”
“Why is that?” Maddie asked faintly. She never even had discussions like this with Jamey.
“They always looked so ecstatic.”
The older women nodded their heads enthusiastically in agreement. Gloria smiled like an angel in a Christmas pageant. “Oh it’s the best.”
Maddie kept smiling and nodding. What else could she do? Blake had done more to her last night than Marcus ever had. Not that she’d ever disclose that to anyone. Not even Blake. She must have woken up in a parallel universe this morning. That was the only answer for this craziness. Maybe someone at Fermilab had finally managed a tesseract, and it had gone wildly, spectacularly wrong.
Dottie tut-tutted, narrowing her eyes. “You’d be as enthusiastic as the rest of us if you’ve had it.”
Gloria gasped, her eyes widening. “Oh heavens, you’re not still a virgin, are you?”
“No… no.” She took a resigned breath. “I’m not a virgin.” She gulped the remaining champagne, letting the sting of the bubbles focus her scattered thoughts.
Martha had talked about sex with her when she was a teenager and had insisted she go on the pill before she moved to college. But never in the history of the human race had she expected to have a conversation like this one.
“Well you march straight up to that man of yours when he gets home this evening and demand he have you for dessert.”
This time, she couldn’t stop the laughter. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” The image of Blake’s head between her legs shot a bolt of anticipation straight to her pussy. And knowing him, he’d make sure she was extremely satisfied.
“He better be,” Millie huffed. “The last thing you want to saddle yourself with is a man who takes, takes, takes. In the bed and in life.”
Dottie began to unwrap another bottle. “In all seriousness, honey pie. I’ve raised four daughters, and every one of ’em have heard me say this. Best to be up front with your needs, otherwise you’ll have a hornet’s nest under the sheets later.”
Millie chimed in. “My ma always said if you can’t say it, you got no business doin’ it.”
Maddie shot Martha a silent plea, but her aunt just raised her glass and grinned broadly.
Great.
She was at the mercy of a gaggle of horny middle-aged women who thought they needed to dispense sex advice to a twenty-eight year old. The day could go nowhere but up.
Dottie popped the second cork. “I think Maddie Jane needs nourishment right now. She’s sustained a bit of a shock.”
Millie’s eyes flashed concern. “Oh dear. What was it?”
Gloria laughed, an earthy musical sound Maddie was sure she’d never heard. Ever. “Keep up Millie, dear. Maddie’s just learned that our bodies don’t turn off the second we finish having children.” She winked at her. “Sex wasn’t, and never will be, a chore. Always something new.”
