I Cross My Heart

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “But if you had, we might never have met.”

  Her gaze locked with his once again. “It seems incredible that we might have missed each other.”

  “But we didn’t because you decided to send me smoke signals.”

  “Yeah.” She had to look away because the intimate warmth reflected in his eyes hinted at feelings neither of them should allow themselves. But she liked basking in that warmth, so she indulged herself a little longer.

  “Get rid of the couch and chair.” Amusement laced his words. “The cheesy coffee table can go, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “In fact, if you feel a sledgehammer moment coming on, I’ll take the chair outside right now so you can whale away on it. Then you’ll be all heated up and we can have rip-roaring sex afterward.”

  “I don’t need to destroy anything at the moment. However, I do need the name of somebody who’ll haul it away, along with the bed in the master and the dresser in there. It’s the same quality as the coffee table, so you don’t want it, either.”

  “When you call Morgan tomorrow you can ask her for a recommendation. She’ll know somebody. She deals with this kind of thing all the time.”

  “Great. Once the furniture’s out of here, I can start ripping up the carpet. Maybe by the time you arrive tomorrow night, I’ll have it all gone.” In fact, she planned on it.

  He frowned. “That’s a tough, nasty job. I don’t want you doing it alone.”

  “I wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, it would be therapeutic.”

  “Well, you’re not the only one who could use some therapy, you know. In fact, my ex seemed to think I needed tons of it. How about leaving the carpet and we’ll rip it out together?”

  “You’ll get filthy and tired.”

  “So will you. And then we can shower off together.”

  “I wanted to have it all out of here when you came over.”

  “And I want you to wait for me. Let’s see if I can convince you to do that.” Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Nash! Are you manhandling me?”

  “I certainly hope so, since I’m a man and I plan to handle you. A lot.” He carried her through the dining room, being careful not to bang her feet against the chairs surrounding the table.

  “I told you we could have sex after we decided on the furniture. You don’t have to abduct me.”

  “Yes, I do. It’s more fun this way.”

  She had to admit it was damned thrilling to be carried off to bed like Scarlett O’Hara, except he wasn’t aiming for her bedroom. Instead, he kicked two of the kitchen chairs aside and sat her on the wooden table.

  She glanced up at him as his obvious intent dawned on her. “Are you really—”

  “Yes.” He grabbed her running shorts by the elastic. “Lift up.”

  “I don’t know about this. What if the table breaks?”

  “It won’t. That’s why I tested it earlier. Lift up.”

  “You planned on this?”

  “You talk too much.” Leaning down, he kissed her while he began pulling her shorts off. As his tongue worked its magic, she became more compliant. Bracing her weight on her arms, she raised her hips, and soon her shorts were on the floor and her bare bottom was resting on the table’s smooth coolness.

  He straightened, his breathing labored. “Now take your top off.” He pulled another condom from his pocket and held it in his teeth while he unfastened his jeans.

  “Bossy, aren’t we?” But she did as she was told.

  He took the condom packet from between his teeth and ripped it open. “Sorry. When I’m agitated, I give orders.”

  “And I agitate you?”

  “Aw, honey, you have no idea.” Reaching down, he grasped her ankles. “Brace yourself on your arms again. This is the fun part.”

  She gasped as he lifted her legs and hooked her heels over his shoulders. “Nash!” She’d never felt so open and exposed in her life.

  “Easy does it, sweetheart. You’ll be fine.” Palms flat on the table on either side of her hips, he probed her moist center with the head of his penis. “Ah, there you are.” And he thrust deep, nearly lifting her off the table.

  She gasped again. He filled her to the brim and touched her in places she could swear no man had ever gone before. The sensation of having him so deep inside her, and being unable to move at all, was...incredible. She almost felt as if she could come without him doing a single other thing. Almost.

  He leaned forward, his gaze searching hers. “How’re you doing, sweetheart?”

  She nodded, not sure she could form actual words. But she loved looking into his eyes, which burned with the same fire that licked through her veins.

  “Good?”

  She nodded again.

  “Your pupils are huge. I think you’re liking this. I’m glad. I won’t last long at this angle.”

  She managed a strained response. “Me, either.”

  “Let’s see.” Holding her gaze, he eased back and pushed forward again. “Ah, I felt you grab me.”

  “Mmm.” She strained toward the climax dangling just out of reach.

  He paused and leaned forward again, his mouth hovering over hers. “Promise me something.”

  She swallowed. “Anything. I need...”

  “This?” He stroked her again very slowly.

  Almost there. “Yes. More.”

  “Promise not to rip out the carpet yourself.”

  Carpet? He was talking about carpet at a time like this? “Nash. For the love of—”

  “Promise me.” He shoved in tight again and held them both perfectly motionless.

  She ached for more of that sweet friction. It wouldn’t take much.

  “Promise.” He withdrew again with exquisite slowness.

  She’d lost track of the conversation in the blast furnace of her lust. “Promise what?”

  “The carpet.”

  “Yes! Whatever! Now do me!”

  “You bet, sweetheart. You bet.” And he began to pump into her with a speed that made her body clench tighter, and tighter, and...with a cry, she hurtled into the whirlpool of her climax. He followed her there, his body shuddering as he gasped out her name.

  Her arms began to shake as her climax ebbed, leaving her flooded with pleasure. Murmuring words of gratitude, he gently disentangled their bodies and carried her to the bed, where he covered her up.

  As she drifted between wakefulness and sleep, she was vaguely aware that he’d gone into the bathroom, and later on he’d picked up his boots from the floor. Last of all, she felt his lips brush her cheek. “Don’t rip out the carpet without me,” he said softly.

  “’Kay,” she murmured in response, and smiled sleepily. He wouldn’t have had to work so hard to secure her agreement, but she wouldn’t tell him that. His wild performance had been fun.

  “I’ll lock the door behind me.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Wish I could stay.” And then he was gone, walking through the house and turning out lights as he went. The front door opened and closed, and soon afterward his truck rumbled to life.

  Wish I could stay. Her eyes snapped open as she registered his tone. Tender, longing, loving. He was falling for her. That realization was bad enough. But even worse than that, from her standpoint, was that she was falling for him.

  10

  EDDIE AND ACE SEEMED to have become Nash’s charges. Emmett had sent all three of them on a short ride first thing in the morning, and Nash had managed to bring them back alive. Considering how green they were, he thought that was a major accomplishment. He was teaching them how to unsaddle the horses when Sarah walked over from the house.

  A tall woman whose blond hair had gone white, she carried herself w
ith the same regal bearing as her mother, who had been a runway model in New York. Her clear blue eyes missed nothing. Because she and his mother, Lucy, were best friends, Nash had always considered Sarah kin.

  Her smile encompassed both the boys and Nash. “Congratulations on a successful outing.”

  Eddie and Ace stood there in awkward silence. They’d chattered away during the entire ride, but Miss Sarah, as they called her, obviously intimidated them. Nash thought that was a good thing. Sarah deserved their utmost respect, as she also deserved his.

  “They did great,” Nash said, filling the silence. “Born riders, both of them.” He was stretching the truth a little, but the kids needed confidence.

  “I thought they would be from the minute I met them.” Sarah glanced at Nash. “When you’re finished here, I’d like to see you up at the house.”

  “I can be there in ten minutes.”

  “Terrific. See you then. Pay attention to Nash, boys. He knows what he’s doing.”

  They both mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” and stared at the ground. But once she’d left, they each had plenty to say.

  Ace led off. “You are in trou-ble.” He wagged his head knowingly. “She’s calling you up there to give you a talking-to.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Eddie piped in. “A boss lady like that doesn’t come down here looking for someone unless she wants to give you what for.” The boy looked worried. “I hope she’s not going to fire you.”

  Nash chuckled. “She’s not. I haven’t given her any reason to do that.”

  “Maybe it’s something you don’t even know you did!” Ace was getting into the spirit of this new development. “Sometimes my foster dad gets all upset when I didn’t do anything. So then I’m all like, ‘what’d I do?’ And he’s all like, ‘you know perfectly well what you did.’ But I don’t.”

  Nash’s heart ached for the kid, who’d never known unconditional love and had to work within a system that didn’t often provide it. “Sarah doesn’t look for things to gripe about. And you notice she was smiling when she came down here. If she had a problem with me, she wouldn’t cover it up with smiles. She’s not like that.”

  “That’s good.” Eddie nodded. “My stepmom can be smiling one minute and smack you the next. You never know what’ll happen. That’s why I like it here. You know what to expect.”

  “Yeah.” Ace laughed. “You can expect them to work you to death.”

  Nash raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “Okay, maybe not to death. That would be child abuse. But we work hard.”

  “So do I,” Nash said quietly. “And I’m grateful for a roof over my head and three meals a day.”

  Ace rolled his eyes. “Oh, man, the Chances sure brainwashed you!”

  Eddie punched him in the arm. “Knock it off. You like it here, and they don’t work us that hard. Like tonight we get to watch a movie under the stars. We’re gonna have popcorn and everything. I don’t know about you, but I think that’s cool.”

  “It’s okay.” Ace wasn’t ready to drop his mask of indifference just yet.

  Nash looked forward to the day he did. He thought it would come before Ace left the ranch in the middle of August. For now, he was protecting himself, and Nash certainly understood that impulse.

  After the boys had returned the saddles, blankets and bridles where they belonged and had used a currycomb on their horses, Nash released them to Emily, Emmett’s daughter. She was in training to take over as foreman someday, and Emmett was proud as punch about that.

  The boys worked harder for Emily than anyone else because they thought she was hot. Nash had heard them bemoaning the fact that she was married. Today she’d set up a fence-mending operation, and although the kids might think of themselves as unpaid labor, the jobs they were doing would take twice as long because they had to learn the basics first.

  Nash had gone from dreading the presence of the kids to active interest in their progress. Until he’d worked with them, he’d viewed their arrival as a nuisance. The ranch ran smoothly without this interruption, so why introduce it?

  But now he was a fan. He’d been lucky enough to grow up in a loving family, but not everyone got that kind of break. Pete Beckett had identified a need in the community, and hooking up with the Last Chance had been a no-brainer. The love that had developed between Sarah and Pete only added to the beauty of the plan.

  Feeling proud to be a part of the Last Chance and all it stood for, Nash walked up to the main house to find out what Sarah had on her mind. Because he’d been hanging around this ranch for years, he sometimes took it for granted, but as he approached the two-story log house, he saw it as the eight kids might.

  It was immense. A center section had been the first structure built when the grandparents, both deceased now, had settled here. As the family had grown to include their son, and later their three grandsons, they’d added two wings that were cantilevered out like arms reaching to embrace visitors.

  The generous square footage was perfect for the new youth program because the extra bedrooms upstairs could be used as dormitory-style quarters. Two sets of bunks had been constructed in adjoining rooms to accommodate the kids. No matter how jaded Ace pretended to be, he had to feel deep down that he’d died and gone to heaven.

  A wide front porch ran the length of the house, and it was lined with rockers. Sarah occupied one, and she held a mug of coffee in her hand. A second mug sat on the small table between her and an adjoining rocker.

  As Nash mounted the steps, he couldn’t help thinking of Bethany’s more modest arrangement over at the Triple G. But she had the same gift as Sarah: an instinct for how to provide a relaxed atmosphere where two people could have a quiet conversation.

  “Come join me,” Sarah said. “If I remember correctly, you take yours black.”

  “I do, and thanks, Sarah.” He touched the brim of his hat in greeting. As a kid he’d called her Mrs. Chance, but somewhere along the line, after he’d passed thirty, she’d asked him to use her first name. He settled into the rocker and picked up his coffee.

  She cradled her mug in both hands and looked at him. “I heard you’re likely to become our new neighbor, so I thought I’d confirm the news at the source.”

  He’d figured that was why she’d called him up to the house. He should have expected Morgan to mention it to her husband, Gabe, who would have told Sarah. That was how things went around here, and Nash didn’t care. He knew they were all happy for him, and that was a good feeling.

  “Apparently so,” he said. “Bethany thinks that will be easier than going through the listing process, and I’m not about to argue with her about that.”

  Sarah laughed. “I should hope not. I was tickled to hear it. I know you want your own place, and I’m thrilled when one of my boys gets what he wants out of life.”

  He loved being referred to as one of her boys. His mother might bristle at that, but she’d realized long ago that Sarah had swept him into her family net. “It’s like a dream come true,” he said. “She’s willing to be flexible with the financing, and her original plan to renovate the Triple G isn’t so important now. I can work on it in my spare time.” He took a sip from his mug. The coffee, as always, was primo. Mary Lou, the Last Chance cook, saw to that.

  “I don’t want to pry into your personal business, but if you need any financial backing to close the deal, just say the word. I’ve discussed it with Jack and we’ll be happy to cosign or loan you what you need.”

  “Thanks, Sarah.” He gazed at her and thought what a lucky guy he was to have friends like these. “I hope I won’t need that, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Just keep it in mind.” Sarah beamed at him. “Have you told your mother?”

  “Uh, no.” He realized that he probably should get on that ASAP. Maybe he was already too late. “Have you?”r />
  “No, dear boy. I wouldn’t do that to you. But if you don’t tell her soon, she’ll find out from someone else, and then you’ll have hell to pay.”

  “Good point.”

  “I have a few things I need in town. Why don’t you take care of those errands for me and drop by the ice-cream parlor while you’re there?”

  “Be happy to.” But his mind was racing. He didn’t want to confront his mother while he was involved with Bethany. Eagle-eyed Sarah had probably noticed a difference in him, but she wouldn’t think it was her place to ask questions. His mother, who liked to remind him she was the one who’d brought him into the world, would consider it her God-given right to interrogate him.

  Sarah rose from her chair. “Come on inside. I’ll get my list. Bring your coffee. Mary Lou might have a few things she wants to add.”

  Nash couldn’t shake the feeling that his personal relationship with Bethany, which he’d hoped to keep private, was about to become public. And it wasn’t only his privacy he was worried about. Bethany wanted to remain anonymous this week. Being romantically linked with him wouldn’t help her cause any.

  Sarah led the way through the rustic yet elegant living room with its giant stone fireplace, sturdy leather furniture and Native American rugs hanging on the walls. A curved staircase built by Archie Chance rose to the second story, and a wagon-wheel chandelier hung from the ceiling.

  The Triple G would never look like this because it hadn’t been built on the same grand scale. But Nash decided then and there that he’d put in a rock fireplace. Smaller, of course, but maybe that living room would no longer seem drab and soulless if it had a fireplace.

  He’d change that and bring new life to the house with a cozy hearth and a blazing fire. He wished that Bethany would be able to see it, but she’d be long gone by the time he finished. He wondered if she’d want him to text a picture. Maybe not. Maybe she’d prefer they have no contact once she left Jackson Hole.

  That was a depressing thought, so he pushed it out of his mind. If he walked into Mary Lou’s kitchen looking sad, she’d try to feed him. Much as he loved her food, he didn’t want to waste time hanging around the ranch kitchen when he should be making tracks for his mother’s ice-cream parlor.