by Maisey Yates
Bleak, washed out, so unlike the young man she knew. It had made her wonder where Jack got all his humor. Because he certainly hadn’t collected it on the dirty, bramble-covered beach near his house.
This ranch, the place he had built for himself, was much more in keeping with who he was. A little bit over the top, a little bit showy, but functional, and pure country. She drove past the house, headed toward the arena. Jack was already there, facing away from her, his arms spread wide, hands rested on the top rail of the fence. She took a moment to admire that broad chest, narrow waist and very, very fine ass.
An ass she had touched.
She couldn’t hold back the smug smile that pulled at the edges of her mouth.
She put the truck in Park, killed the engine and took the keys out of the ignition, hesitating for a second before opening the door and climbing out. “Hey,” she said, walking over to where he stood.
He turned, a blue flame flickering in his eyes for a moment. “Hey.”
For a moment she wasn’t sure what to do. Her instinct was to launch herself at him and kiss him, but she wasn’t sure if that would be okay. She wasn’t really sure what the protocol was for a temporary sexual arrangement with your brothers’ best friend. And then she figured she didn’t really care. Because this was only temporary. And anyway, she and Jack had already waded through a whole swamp of awkward. If emphatic greetings weren’t acceptable they would talk about it. And it couldn’t possibly be more of a minefield than previous discussions.
She picked up her pace and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck and stretching up on her tiptoes, kissing him as deep and long as she wanted. Jack put his hands on her hips and held her steady while she explored his mouth. The slow glide of his tongue against hers, the warm firmness of his lips. She slipped her hand from around his neck, sliding her fingertips across his jaw, his stubble rough beneath her fingertips.
She pulled away, rubbing her nose against his, following some instinct she hadn’t known she’d possessed. “You remind me of a sexy outlaw,” she said, then kissed him quickly again.
He arched a dark brow. “An outlaw?”
That question knocked a bit of the shine off that perfect moment of clarity and confidence she’d just experienced. For a while she had been convinced that there was nothing she could do wrong. Now she was questioning that. She was a novice, after all. A novice who still possessed nothing more than cotton panties of the most demure variety.
“Yeah,” she said, her tone less certain now. “Because...kind of...dark and dangerous. And...”
He cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a hard kiss. “Dangerous?”
“Stop making me feel silly.”
“You shouldn’t feel silly. I like hearing what you think about me. It’s a lot better than having you snipe at me.”
She pulled away from him, snorting. “I do not snipe.”
That earned her a smack on the butt. She yelped and rubbed the spot he’d just made contact with. It didn’t hurt. If anything, she liked it. “You snipe.”
“If I do, you deserve it.”
“Honestly, I like talking to you rather than just circling you. I feel like that’s what we’ve been doing for a while.”
Kate took hold of her own hand and started picking at the dirt beneath her thumbnail. “Maybe. But it was pretty off-putting to realize I wanted to kiss you more than I wanted to punch you.”
“Out of curiosity, when did you realize that?”
She dug deeper beneath her nail, putting most of her focus and energy onto that task. “I don’t know if I fully realized it until after.”
“After we kissed?”
“After we had sex.” She cleared her throat. “Before that, I was still on the fence about whether or not kissing would be more satisfying than punching.”
A strange smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “But sex officially tipped you over.”
She dug harder at her thumbnail, then realized she was standing there picking dirt out from under her nails in front of her lover. Reflexively, she grimaced and put her hands down at her sides. Her lover. Jack was her lover. Having a lover was weird enough; having it be Jack was weirder still. Or maybe not. She couldn’t actually imagine assigning that label to anyone else.
“Well, you presented a convincing argument.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. Your um...body made a very convincing argument.”
“Stands to reason. My dick did very well on the debate team in high school.”
“Debate? I would have thought that PE was more your dick’s forte.”
“Possibly. Though my member is very convincing. Even without words.”
This was weird, talking about more intimate things in a tone they would have used prior to actually having experienced anything intimate together. A strange mixture of old and new.
“Well, as difficult as it is to believe, Monaghan, I did not come here to discuss your penis, or the virtues thereof. I came here to ride.”
“That begs the question if we’re still on the subject of my manhood, or you actually brought a horse in the trailer.”
“I brought a horse. And if you don’t behave yourself when I’m done riding Roo, I might not ride you.”
“I don’t believe that, baby.”
Kate’s heart fluttered and she rolled her eyes, mainly at herself, but she was content to let Jack believe that the expression was directed at him.
“Your ego is stunning.”
“It is, isn’t it? I’m glad you notice, because I just got it resized.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, it’s gone up about three sizes ever since Ms. Kate Garrett decided it was better to kiss me than punch me.”
How did he do that? It was a stupid thing to say. Arrogant and obnoxious. And yet somehow it made her feel all warm inside.
“Well, Kate Garrett giveth, and Kate Garrett taketh away. I’m expecting you to coach me through a few runs on the course first. Otherwise, I will have to leave you with nothing but a shrunken ego.”
“Shrinkage is never good. Get your pony out, and let’s do this.”
She shot him a deadly look before turning, heading back toward the trailer and opening it up. She readied Roo and led her out, the horse’s hooves clopping on the ramp that went down to the gravel, where the sound changed to a muted crunch. Kate brought her to the arena and looped the lead rope over the fence before opening up the side of the trailer and setting out to get her tack ready.
“Roo is not a pony, just so you know.”
“Thoroughbred. I know. I was being an ass.”
“You should know, Mr. Rodeo. I’m counting on the fact that you have actual expertise to help me through all of this.”
“I do, I promise you. Not just from the rodeo.” He hesitated and she looked at him. He reached back and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “You know, the breeding operation is going really well.”
She was tempted to say something in the same smart-ass vein as he just had. To banter back. But somehow she sensed it wasn’t the time. He was looking for something.
Approval. Her approval.
Which was strange, because she had never thought of Jack as needing approval from anyone, least of all her. And yet it was there in his voice. She couldn’t deny it. And she wouldn’t deny him.
She offered him a smile, continuing her work on Roo. “This whole place is amazing.” She turned her focus back to Roo’s tack. “And I’ve never liked all this talk about luck where you’re concerned. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you and change their position in life so drastically.”
He shrugged, a halfhearted laugh on his lips. “I only moved about five miles down the road. Not sure that counts as changing position.”
“You did,” she said, thinking about that washed-out trailer again.
“I think you’re the only one who sees it that way.”
“Well, everyone else is an idiot. I’m pretty confident in that assessment.”
“One of the many things I like about you.”
Kate tightened the girth on Roo’s saddle and straightened. “Okay, I’m riding right now. So I guess you just stand there and yell at me if I do a bad job?”
“Yeah, I can handle that.”
Kate mounted Roo and rode her over to the open gate, staring down the course with determination. She remembered the last ride. The one that Jack had walked away from. The one she’d never seen the time for, because her timekeeper had taken off after the angry kiss.
She had been thinking of him during that ride. Not about success, not about failure, but about Jack.
Of course, thinking about Jack was as natural as breathing.
She took a deep breath, made her mind a blank space until she saw nothing but the barrels in front of her.
And then she went.
Her movements blended with Roo’s body, adjusting to the rhythm. It felt easy to slide into it, to follow the leads of Roo’s movements. And she felt that in turn Roo followed hers.
Kind of like kissing. She hadn’t known what she was doing, but paying attention to the subtle way Jack moved his lips, flicked his tongue, had made following along intuitive.
This was similar in a way. Required an awareness of her whole body so that she could sense subtle shifts and respond with perfect control.
Memory blended with the present, memory of what it had been like to be pressed up against Jack only a few moments ago, her muscles languid as she let arousal roll over her. Every touch, every taste, every shift of his hands working together.
And before she knew it, she had rounded the last barrel. Nothing was knocked over, and nothing felt slow.
“Holy shit!” She didn’t bother to hold back the exclamation. “It was good.”
“Yeah, it was,” Jack said, smiling. He was holding a stopwatch that he hadn’t shown her before, and he looked at the time. “Damn good, Katie.”
“One more?”
He nodded. “Do one more, and then we’ll get on with this charity stuff.”
And get on with the rest of their afternoon together.
He left the rest of it unspoken, but she heard it all the same.
The second run was as successful as the first, and Kate was on a high by the time they sat down in Jack’s living room with the details of the charity rodeo day spread out in front of them.
Kate picked up one of the spreadsheets, reading the extensive list of business names. “I can’t believe you got all these vendors confirmed.”
Jack leaned back on the couch, his hands behind his head, displaying his extremely tantalizing biceps, thanks to his very tight black T-shirt. Another thing about sex. It made her think of words like tantalizing. Usually words like that were reserved only for pie.
“Lydia had a hand in it—I can’t take all the credit. Plus, Eileen has been on top of things. And Ace is overly generous. When Ace gets involved with something, the other business owners tend to follow. Plus, the guy is always willing to donate beer, and that is about the most valuable thing I can think of.”
They were both sitting on the couch, with about a foot of space between them, trying to keep focus on the task at hand. Kate wanted to close the space and press her body against his. Just so she could touch him. Though like the “kiss or not to kiss?” dilemma from earlier, that wasn’t strictly sex, either.
The spreadsheets for the charity event were working so well she was considering suggesting making a spreadsheet of the particulars of their arrangement. An arrangement was all it was, really. It wasn’t a relationship, that much was certain.
Which meant she was going to go ahead and speak the words that were rolling around in her head, making her tongue restless. Because before they’d started doing stuff together, she would have spoken them.
She looked up at him. “If you didn’t minimize your contributions to everything, maybe people wouldn’t think all of your achievements were dumb luck.” As soon as she spoke the words, she realized how accurately they described Jack.
He was quick to extol the virtues of Connor and Eli, to remind her of everything they had done for her, and yet he never brought up all the ways he’d been there. In fact, when she tried, he often changed the subject.
And now he wouldn’t even accept a compliment for the event that he had inspired.
He shrugged, leaning forward, the casual gesture exposed for the lie it was by the tension in his jaw. “I’m being honest. I’m not the kind of guy who has to trumpet his own achievements. I know a lot of people assume I am, but I’m not.”
It hit her then what a funny mix of things Jack was. He had an easy kind of cockiness, and only moments ago she had accused him of having a massive ego. But when it came to important things, he was quick to shift the credit.
In contrast, he never shifted blame.
He was quick to call himself a bastard or a jackass or any other derogatory name, all while laughing it off. She wasn’t quite sure why.
“Jack, it’s more than that,” she said, her tone grave.
He raised his brows. “Listen to you, missy. Pulling rank now like you gained a decade on me instead of being one down. Why? Just because we’ve...”
“Shut up,” she said. “I’m serious. If you’re going to be an ass just because I stepped into some thorny business, then shut the hell up right now. I’m not in the mood to listen and separate out what you said just because I scared you and decide what should offend me.”
“Scared?” he asked, his tone incredulous.
“Yes. Scared. You know how I know it’s scared?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Every time I took a shot at you, it was because I was scared. Of what you made me want. Of what you made me feel. I was so scared I shoved it down deep enough that I couldn’t recognize what it was. So scared I never let myself think the word want. But it didn’t change the fact that I felt it. And you know what? It’s better this way. Brought up to the top and dealt with. Naked and...and...and raw and real. It’s better than pretending it isn’t there.”
He was silent for a moment. Then he leaned back, his gaze assessing. Dark. “But in your scenario you got sex instead of sexual frustration. What will I get?”
She gnawed on the inside of her lip. “Release? From...issues?”
He snorted and shook his head. “Right. Because you’re so into talking about your feelings?”
She frowned. “What do I need to talk about my feelings for? I’m fine.”
“So am I,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “We just had a discussion about the not fine.”
“You had a discussion. You drew conclusions. All on your own. I think it’s bullshit.”
She stared him down, that familiar feeling of uncontrollable determination gripping her, anchoring itself deep in her gut. When she had that feeling, backing down wasn’t an option. Ever. Sometimes it got her in trouble.
It had earned her a scar on her shoulder blade when John Norton had dared her to walk the top of a fence like a tightrope back in second grade. And right now who knew what it would get her. But in the moment the consequences never mattered. Only the win.
“Jack...”
He looked back down at the papers in front of him, pen in hand, discussion clearly closed.
Her anger reached its peak, and there was no one left to help Jack Monaghan now except for God. And she doubted Jack would ever even ask him for help.
Jack would never ask. And he was apparently done listening.
Fuck. That.
She gripped the hem of her T-shirt and stripped it up ov
er her head, that bullheaded determination steering the ship now. And now that it was, there would be hell to pay.
It just remained to be seen whether hell would bill Jack or her.
She reached back and unhooked her bra, then let it fall to the floor with a soft thump. That garnered Jack’s focus.
His blue eyes connected with hers, then lowered, heat flaring bright and hot in their depths. For a moment she lost the thread of her intentions completely. She could only stand there and bask in her newfound power.
She’d always been strong. Hell, she’d been able to beat up every boy in her class before they started growing body hair. She was tough, and no one had ever questioned that. She hadn’t, either.
But this power? This was new. This was different.
Her body had the power to turn some kind of tide inside the infamous Jack Monaghan. To take him from anger, to take him from purposefully ignoring her to looking at her with the kind of keen focus she’d never seen him train on anything.
She’d known there was power in strength. In a closed fist and a quick tongue. In the ability to ride faster than the boys, fix the fence with better skill. But she hadn’t realized how much power there was in her body. In its softness, its innate being. No walls up, no clothes on. No front of bravado or show of toughness.
She’d already realized that she’d discovered a hidden layer of Jack, a deeper level of who he was. In this moment she realized she’d found the same in herself.
She took a step toward him and pressed her knee down beside his thigh on the couch before following suit with the other, sitting on his lap, facing him. “Is that paper still more interesting than what I have to say?”
His eyes flickered downward. “No. But now you have the issue of what you have to say not being quite as interesting as how you look.”
Completely against her will, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’ve heard women complain about that, but I don’t think I’ve ever had that problem. It’s certainly an interesting one.”
“I’m being offensive. At least have the decency to get mad at me.” He reached up and cupped one of her breasts as he spoke, teasing her nipple with his thumb.
