I Cross My Heart

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “It’s a good idea.” Bethany was desperate to change the subject. “So, why don’t I pour some coffee while you crunch the numbers for me?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Standing, Morgan dusted off her hands. “Someone put a lot of love into building this house. Was it your parents?”

  “No. They bought it already built. I don’t remember too much because I was so little, but I think the owners were an older couple who had to move to a warmer climate for the wife’s health.”

  “Well, they left behind a gem. Taking a diamond in the rough and polishing it is so much fun.”

  Bethany led the way back into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how much polishing I can do in a week. I’d consider hiring more people, but that increases the odds that somebody will figure out who I am. Nash has agreed to keep quiet, and I know you will, so I feel fairly secure at this point.”

  “Then I recommend that you have Nash do the bare minimum outside and concentrate his efforts in here.”

  “Okay, I will.” Bethany busied herself getting out mugs, sugar and cream while she fought the urge to giggle.

  She’d already decided that Nash should concentrate his efforts inside the house. The activity she’d had in mind had nothing to do with renovation, though. Morgan would be expecting miracles, and if Bethany and Nash hoped to renovate this house while also having wild monkey sex every night, it would take several miracles.

  8

  NASH SPENT A GOOD PART of the day teaching two of the Last Chance Youth Program boys the correct way to muck out a stall. Eddie was a blond and pudgy thirteen-year-old who was eager to please. The other kid, a skinny, tattooed fourteen-year-old who insisted on being called Ace, had major attitude. But Ace was careful not to cross the line into open insolence, as if he knew how much swagger he could get away with before being sent home.

  Dealing with the two contrasting personalities on the same work detail was a challenge, but Nash discovered he liked it. Both boys obviously yearned for a male role model, and when Nash caught them picking up his mannerisms, he smiled to himself. Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery.

  Lindsay hadn’t been able to have kids, and had convinced him that was just as well. He’d bought into her rationalizations, especially after he’d begun to worry whether the marriage would last. Now that he looked back on it, he understood that he’d been worried about that from the get-go, but he’d been slow to admit defeat.

  Now he was thirty-five, past the age when a lot of guys had kids, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still consider it if he found the right woman. Once he had his own place he could start thinking along those lines. For now, he had these eight boys to practice on.

  He’d gotten an unexpected kick out of that. He’d relished the mental challenge of trying to outthink his two charges today. They could be incredibly funny, and they’d obviously loved making him crack up. They could also be achingly vulnerable and oblivious to the fact that they’d exposed their innermost secrets.

  He looked forward to describing the day’s activities to Bethany because he knew she’d be interested. That wasn’t his main interest in going back over there, of course. He ached to make love to her again, and kept checking the time once the day’s activities wound down.

  Surprisingly, he wasn’t as eager to hear Morgan’s estimate on the Triple G’s value as he’d expected to be. If he ended up buying the ranch, taking possession of it would coincide with Bethany leaving. Intellectually he understood that, but emotionally he was a long way from accepting it.

  He’d get to that point eventually. But not tonight. As he drove over to the Triple G in the golden light of a brilliant sunset, a couple of his own condoms tucked in his jeans pocket, he had to consciously ease up on the gas pedal because his natural urge was to floor it. The washboard road slowed him down some, but he took that too fast anyway and his truck rattled in protest.

  The previous night, he’d chosen his clothes so they’d be nice enough to eat dinner in and old enough to make repairs in. Tonight he’d opted for a worn pair of jeans, serviceable boots and a Western shirt with the sleeves rolled back. If she was true to her word, it would all come off. The thought of that caused the crotch of his jeans to pinch.

  Although he halfway expected she might come out on the porch when she heard his truck, he hadn’t anticipated that she’d be standing in the middle of the yard waiting as he hit the brakes and turned off the engine. She wore navy running shorts and a red halter top that made her look like summer itself.

  A wiser man might have taken his time climbing down and walking over to her. But clearly he wasn’t very wise, because he tossed his hat on the seat and leaped from the truck, leaving the door hanging open. She ran across the dirt yard and he met her halfway, catching her up in his arms and laughing as she wrapped her bare legs around his hips. He supported her by cupping her firm behind, and then he kissed her for all he was worth.

  A separation of less than twenty-four hours seemed like days, and he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. His cock swelled, and he knew where this kiss was leading. Carrying her, he started for the house.

  He made it up the porch steps, across the porch and through the screen door. She pulled frantically at his clothes, and he doubted they’d get all the way to her bedroom before the action started. She’d popped all the snaps on his shirt by the time they’d staggered inside.

  He knew better than to take her on the floor in here. Although she’d instructed him to ignore this room the previous night, he’d noticed the stained carpet and shabby furniture. The way she was moaning, though, she’d have an orgasm before they reached her bedroom, and he wanted to be inside her when she did.

  So he made a command decision and backed her up against the wall nearest the door. She must have caught on pretty quick, because once her back was against the wall, she stopped working on his shirt and started unfastening his belt. He managed to hold her one-handed, which took more strength than he’d known he had, but that allowed him to fish out the condom from his pocket. Apparently desperation made him stronger.

  And eagerness made her faster. She’d freed him from his briefs and sheathed his bad boy in a time that might be a world record, if they had competitions for condom application. He was grateful for her speed when he realized that her running shorts stretched and she wore nothing underneath.

  The way her breasts were heaving under the halter top, he suspected she was edging close to a climax, so he wasted no time in sliding home. That single thrust was all it took. She arched her back and convulsed around him as she gasped in pleasure.

  He pumped slowly, drawing out the moment. As she started to settle down, he shifted the angle and drove deeper.

  Her eyes flew open. “Oh.”

  “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with just one, did you?”

  She held his gaze. “I missed you.”

  “Same here.” He pushed deeper and she opened to him, lifting toward him in total surrender. “Missed this, too.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her breathing quickened. “Thought...about it.”

  “All day?” He increased the pace, daring her to keep up with him.

  “Yes.” She met him stroke for stroke and began to pant.

  “Me, too. Imagined this. Burying my cock in you over and over.”

  “So good.” She groaned. “Nash, I’m...”

  “I know.” Joy surged within him. “I can feel you tensing.”

  “Come with me.”

  “Love to.” As the waves of her orgasm flowed over him, he let
go. Amazing. Abandoning the last shred of control, he gave himself up to hot bursts of pleasure that seemed to go on...and on...and on. Her spasms milked him, leaving him gasping and trembling with the force of his response.

  They clung to each other for long moments, and their ragged breathing was the only sound filling the silence. Nash wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. He’d effectively bared his soul by letting her know how much he craved her. But she’d returned the favor. She craved him just as much.

  Finally she leaned her head against the wall. “It’s never been like this.”

  He was touched by her honesty. She didn’t have to say that, but she’d said it anyway. “Not for me, either.”

  “Bummer.”

  He had to smile because he agreed. Finding sex that was so right when the relationship was so wrong could correctly be labeled a bummer. He took a deep breath. “Or.”

  “Or?”

  “Or we could accept this interlude as a gift and cherish it while we can.”

  “Well, that’s philosophical. Thank you very much, Zen Master.”

  “Hey.” He leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers. “Happiness is a—”

  “Don’t you dare quote me to myself, Nash Bledsoe. Not when your pride and joy is right where I could put it in a hammerlock.”

  “I was just—”

  “Being obnoxious.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I guess you’re allowed, all things considered. You’ve probably been hoping to deliver that line ever since you drove in here yesterday and found out who I was.”

  He grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Well, happiness is a choice and so is finding yourself in traction because you slipped a disk doing something you should have known was potentially hazardous. I vote we move this party to a more horizontal location before we end up having to call 9-1-1.”

  “I’m on board with that, but first you’ll have to release me from the Jaws of Life. I couldn’t move if my life depended on it.”

  “Oh.” She blinked and surveyed the situation. “That’s fair, but keep holding me up until I’m sure I won’t fall. I can’t feel my feet. This is why they invented the innerspring, you know.”

  “I was headed there, but we ran out of time.”

  That made her laugh. “True.” She eased away from him and lowered her feet to the floor. “I was considering dragging you down into the dirt of the front yard, which I see was a really bad idea now that I’m calmer—but it seemed perfectly logical at the time.”

  “I would have let you, too, which tells you how far gone I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure the door to my pickup is still open.”

  “Probably. I loved that part where you leaped out of the truck. At some point when I hurried out to meet you, I had this awful thought that you wouldn’t be as eager to see me as I was to see you, and you’d wonder what the hell I was doing waiting for you in the front yard.”

  “Instead I was so excited I damned near strangled myself on my seat belt trying to get out of my truck.”

  She cradled his face in both hands and gazed up at him. “Thank you for meeting me halfway across the yard. It was like something out of a movie.”

  “It was almost like something out of a Three Stooges movie, but at least neither of us fell down.”

  Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him gently on the mouth and pulled back. “We need to talk. I found a couple of old camp chairs and put them out on the front porch. Did you notice?”

  “Nope. Blew right past those.”

  “I thought it would be a good place to sit and discuss...things.”

  He swallowed. Now that the driving need for her had eased, he had time to think about what else they had going on, like the future of this ranch. “Let me duck into your bathroom and get myself sorted out first.”

  “I thought you’d want to do that. I have coffee, iced tea, beer or wine. Which do you want?”

  “Iced tea, please.”

  “Okay.” She started to move away.

  He caught her arm. “You’re impressing the hell out of me. You’ve been here, what...less than two days? And yet you’re already set up to provide warm hospitality to visitors. Last night you made the dining room so nice and tonight you’ve found another pleasant spot to entertain me. Wow.”

  She beamed at him. “Now I get to say my line. That’s living with grace.”

  He groaned. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  “Yep. Perfect setup.” She eased away from him and straightened her clothes. “I’ll go close the door of your truck. I heard raccoons scrambling around last night and you don’t want some critter getting in there.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.”

  “Meet you on the porch in a few.” She slipped out the front door.

  “I’ll be there,” he called after her. Then he walked through the house to her pink bathroom and took care of business. While drying his hands on her fluffy pink towel, he caught a glimpse of himself in her medicine cabinet mirror. He looked besotted.

  He’d heard that word once in a high school English class and had always thought it sounded unmanly. No real guy would let himself be described that way, as if some woman had sucked out his brain and replaced it with foam packing peanuts. But that was exactly how the guy in the mirror looked.

  He hoped to hell that expression was a result of the amazing sex, and not because he was falling for Bethany. Sex and love weren’t the same thing—any reasonable person knew that. Leaning against the counter, which wiggled and was definitely not strong enough to have sex on, he peered at himself. Damn, he even seemed younger.

  He’d become so used to his normal expression that he’d thought nothing of it. But last week he’d been running errands in Shoshone and had stopped at his mom’s ice-cream parlor, Lickity Split, to get a cone and see how she was doing. She’d commented on his sad face.

  His mother worried about him because he was the family member without a happy ending. Last fall his widowed mom and Ronald Hutchinson, owner of the Shoshone Feed Store, had married. In a cozy little coincidence, Nash’s little sister, Katrina, had become engaged to Ronald’s son Langford, known to his close friends, of whom Nash was one, as Hutch.

  That left Nash as the lone wolf with no sweetie to warm his bed at night. He hadn’t planned it that way, but he hadn’t chosen wisely, which explained the sad face his mother had noticed last week. She’d approve of this new expression, but he was better off not showing it to her because at the end of the week, it might disappear.

  The clink of ice cubes dropping into glasses told him that Bethany was getting the iced tea ready. For one brief moment he allowed himself to imagine what life would be like if he and Bethany lived in this house together. He liked the idea so much it hurt. Dismissing what was a pointless fantasy, he walked into the kitchen.

  She wasn’t there, which meant she’d taken the iced tea out to the porch, where they’d agreed to meet. She could have come looking for him, but she hadn’t because they didn’t know each other that well yet. He didn’t miss Lindsay, but he missed the ease with which married couples interacted after living together for years.

  He wanted that again with someone, and a couple of kids thrown into the bargain would be okay, too. Being around the Chance family had given him a new yardstick for what made up the good life. For Lindsay, it had meant a luxurious home, expensive vehicles and tropical vacations.

  Now that Nash had none of those things, he’d discovered they
weren’t important to him. Instead he longed for something he’d never had—a loving relationship with a woman who shared his dreams. He wondered if Bethany longed for anything or if she was happy with her life as it was.

  Pushing open the screen door, he heard crickets chirping and noticed that a sliver of moon hung in the navy blue sky. A soft breeze brought the familiar scent of sage that he always associated with Jackson Hole.

  The light coming through the screen door was just enough to make out two faded canvas chairs on the weathered porch with a wooden stool between them. A tray with one iced tea glass and a plate of brownies topped the stool.

  Bethany glanced up from the far chair and smiled at him. She had a tall glass in one hand and his hat on her lap. “Have a seat, cowboy. I retrieved your hat. Didn’t know if you wanted it.”

  “Thank you.” He took the hat from her before sitting down, but he hung it over the arm of the chair instead of putting it on.

  “You don’t want to wear it?” She picked up his iced tea glass and gave it to him.

  “Not right now.”

  “I thought cowboys felt naked without their hats.”

  He laughed. “Normally that’s true, but when I’m around you, I figure it’s better to leave it off rather than risk having it knocked off in the midst of whatever we might be doing.”

  “Mmm.” She sipped her tea. “You make me sound wild.”

  “Not just you. I take my share of responsibility for any wildness that’s been going on.” And all that wildness had made him thirsty. He took a hefty swallow of tea. “This is great.” Then he grabbed a brownie.

  “So, Morgan gave me a figure.”

  He kept eating the brownie, but the taste was gone. “And? How much?”

  “I don’t know that it matters.”

  His heart hammered. “You’ve decided not to sell.” He should have guessed she might. Morgan loved this area and might have made a good case for holding on to the property.