Her legs collapsed. He rose, pulling her against his chest, his own body demanding release.
* * *
JEN HAD LET MATT MAKE the first moves.
Now it was her turn.
She burrowed in, pressing her face against his neck. “My turn to be in charge….” she teased.
Her body still quivering with reaction, she took his hand and led him toward the bed. Accepting the condom he pulled from the pocket of his jeans, she set it aside for the moment.
“We’ll get there,” she promised, loving the testosterone oozing from his pores.
Right now she wanted the same free rein he had just enjoyed, and Matt, bless his heart, willingly gave it to her.
Which was good, because his body was hard and hot all over, and she wanted him. Wanted to take him to heaven as surely as he had taken her.
Loving the unsteady way he was breathing, and the hot, dangerously aroused look in his eyes, Jen palmed his pecs and flat, sexy abs.
Leaning in to tease him with her tongue, she followed the arrow of hair all the way down the goody trail, laughing softly as he groaned. His muscles flexed. Pleased, she instigated another soft, sensual kiss and another dozen caresses. Enjoying the mouthwatering view of him, she thoroughly explored every impressive male inch.
Until at last he could stand it no more, and caught her by the arms, drawing her upward. Ripping open the condom packet, and watching as she rolled it on.
He paused a moment to look his fill. The next instant he was sitting against the headboard and she was astride him. With one hand moving delectably between them, the other gripping her bottom, he kissed her passionately and pushed inside her.
The simultaneous possession of mouth and body sent her rocketing right off the edge. Jen exploded in white heat. Matt was right behind her, his kiss hard and fierce. He made a low, rough, guttural sound, his body pulsing and thrusting within her, again and again, until she didn’t know where she ended and he began. Only that she needed this. Needed him. Needed more.
“Matt,” she whispered, still shuddering with the impact of her climax. “Oh, Matt. You make me feel so good.”
So good, I want you again. So good, in fact, I think I could be falling in love.
* * *
MATT HAD NEVER BEEN a slouch. He was, in fact, pretty damn good at anything he set his mind to doing.
So Jen’s compliment came as no surprise. What was a shock was how much more he wanted from her than a heartfelt acclaim of his physical prowess.
It wasn’t as if they were looking for anything complicated, permanent or even temporary.
Jen was the kind of woman who took everything at face value and lived one day at a time, accepting whatever limitations life handed her with grace and goodwill. For her, nothing was personal. It just was what it was. End of story.
Matt sighed.
Whereas he couldn’t seem to live any way but long term.
And that was a problem. A big one.
He wanted to be able to control the situation. Contain his feelings for her. Manage her feelings for him.
That wasn’t going to be possible. Which meant one of them could end up getting hurt. Maybe both of them.
Matt didn’t want that, either.
Jen drew back and rested her palms on his shoulders. “You regret this,” she surmised quietly, still searching his face.
“No.” Matt shook his head. What he regretted was not setting boundaries. He drew her close once again. “I’ll never regret making love with you, Jen.”
And to show her how much he wanted her—and always would—he shifted, drew her beneath him and made love to her all over again.
* * *
JEN DIDN’T INTEND to spend the night wrapped in Matt’s arms any more than she intended to go upstairs to his bedroom with him, get more condoms…and make love with him over and over again.
First in his shower and later in his bed.
But she did. After that, it was all too easy to stay cuddled against him for just a few more minutes. Even easier to wake in his embrace—to what sounded like a convoy of big trucks rumbling up the driveway.
“What the…” Matt lifted his head. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he leaped from the bed, looked out the window and swore.
Jen struggled to untangle herself from the bedcovers. “What’s going on?”
Grim-faced, he reached for his jeans. “I’m about to find out.” Looking angrier than she had ever seen him, he bolted from the bedroom, shirt and boots in hand.
Feeling less than calm herself, she ran a brush through her hair and dressed, too.
By the time she got outside, the argument between Matt and the foreman from Dallas Limestone & Granite—a big burly guy, the same height as Matt—was in full force.
“The contract is iron-clad.”
Legs braced apart, hands on his waist, Matt stood his ground. “Yeah, well, I don’t know anything about it.”
The man grimaced. “Then talk to your father. He’s the one who negotiated the deal and signed it.”
Emmett had done this?
Jen could only wonder why.
“I plan on talking to him,” Matt returned tightly. “But until then, get your trucks and all this equipment off Triple B Ranch.”
“Where are we supposed to park it?” the foreman asked.
Matt glared, his expression more deadly than any shotgun. “Not. My. Problem.”
Looking as if he wanted to punch something, too, the man threatened darkly, “You’re going to hear from my boss about this.”
Matt inclined his head. “I expect I will,” he drawled.
Reluctantly, the foreman waved the trucks toward the highway.
Slowly, they began backing up.
Matt stood on the porch, satisfied that a calamity had been averted—at least temporarily—but still fuming.
It was a warm morning. Nevertheless, the stress had Jen shivering. “Anything you want me to do?” she asked, pacing nervously at his side.
“Yeah.” Matt continued watching the departure. “Get on the phone. See if you can locate my dad.”
Glad that he trusted her to be more than just a bystander, Jen slipped inside the ranch house. Dutifully, she tried every number for Emmett she had—cell, office, Fort Worth hotel. Nothing.
Defeated, she returned to Matt’s side.
He was still standing where she’d left him, jaw set, hands braced on his hips, watching stoically as the last of the trucks bearing heavy equipment backed onto the highway.
“Matt?”
He turned and stared at her for a long moment, his emotions in turmoil, his expression haunted.
Not sure what to do to comfort him, she stayed right where she was and softly brought him up to speed. “I couldn’t find your dad, but I left messages everywhere. I stated what happened and asked him to call you immediately.”
His broad shoulders tensing all the more, Matt exhaled roughly. A string of swearwords followed as he shoved his fingers through his hair. “I cannot believe my dad is doing this again!”
“Doing what?” Jen asked, wishing something would make sense. All she knew for certain was that if Matt was upset, she was upset.
Eyes dark, he took her elbow and strode toward his pickup. “Come with me,” he said gruffly. “And I’ll show you.”
Chapter Eleven
Ten minutes later, Jen got out of the truck and simply stared, unable to believe her eyes. Some twenty feet away from the pasture fence was what looked like an enormous pit, as big as a college football stadium. “How deep is it?” she asked Matt in shock.
He opened the gate and allowed her to walk through. “Approximately eighty feet—so far.”
She shook her head, sympathizing with his dismay. “I had no idea this was here.”
The corners of his lips inched downward. His sunglasses hid his eyes. “Most outsiders don’t. You can see it from the air, of course, but the pit itself is well hidden in the Triple B’s fifty thousand acres.”
<
br /> They walked through tall grass toward the edge of the crater. It was even more imposing up close.
“The entire ranch is sitting on limestone.”
Jen turned to look at Matt, and he wrapped his arm about her waist.
“My great-grandfather discovered it, and he harvested it to build the original ranch house, which is now the bunkhouse. My dad continued the tradition when he built the house we live in now for my mother.”
Jen leaned into Matt’s strong, virile embrace, luxuriating in the welcome heat of him and the hard muscles of his body. Beneath her hand, the beat of his heart was as strong and steady as the rest of him. “When did you start selling it?”
He let out a breath. “My dad used it to pay for his divorces.” Matt was quiet for a moment. “It made sense at the time. Dad’s an extremely chivalrous man at heart, and he felt responsible for the marriages not working.”
Jen understood that. Matt was just like his father in that respect.
“Try as he might, there was just no way Dad was going to love any other woman the way he loved my mom. Although he thought differently each time he married.” Matt’s mouth tightened. “Anyway, he offered each wife a respectable settlement, and harvesting the limestone paid for all three divorces.”
Jen knew how hard it was when the family you loved let you down. Searching for a way to comfort Matt, she murmured, “Well, at least he didn’t let any property go.”
Deliberately, Matt took off his sunglasses and hooked them in the open collar of his shirt. He paused, his expression calm, but just behind it she could sense his anger. “We have a huge pit in the middle of the ranch.”
“Yeah, well,” Jen really didn’t know what to say about that. The bright rays of the sun slanted over them, bathing them in the shimmering brilliance of the Texas summer. “Kind of your own little Grand Canyon?” she joked.
Her attempt at humor failed.
Matt paced the perimeter. His handsome face was lined with the growth of two days’ beard. Exhaustion rimmed his eyes. Thanks to the lovemaking they’d indulged in, neither of them had had enough sleep.
He shook his head, his worry evident. “Dad told me he was done with this.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rocked back on the heels of her boots. “Maybe he is.”
Matt shook his head. “Those trucks and crews this morning said otherwise.”
“You really think he signed a contract with Dallas Limestone & Granite?”
“I do.” Matt paused and swallowed hard. “I just don’t know why.” Pushing back the brim of his hat, he turned to look at her. “We don’t need the money—not even for the work he’s commissioned from you. He carries a healthy balance in his checking account, and the ranch is firmly in the black.” Matt paced some more. “There must be a reason.”
“I’m sure he’ll tell you what it is when you talk with him,” she stated, doing her best to keep her tone light and reassuring.
Matt slid her an inscrutable glance. “He didn’t tell me about the crews.”
A hot, dry breeze wafted over them. “Maybe he didn’t have time.”
Matt let out a rough, ragged breath, took off his hat and swept his fingers through his hair. “Or maybe he was just avoiding it because he knew I wouldn’t approve.”
Or because if Emmett told you, you might figure out that something else was going on—like the fact that he was sick—and interfere with his plans to run off when the time came.
Jen swallowed. “That, too.”
Another silence fell. Unable to bear his constant scrutiny, she moved away.
Why had Emmett put her in such an untenable situation?
Why couldn’t she figure out what to do that wouldn’t betray either Matt or Emmett?
And most of all, why was she thinking that any of this was her problem, anyway?
When she had nothing to do with any of it, and certainly no control over anything either man did. Nor did she want control.
It was enough just trying to live her own life, on her own terms.
Matt looked at her and asked in a quiet tone, “I know you haven’t known my dad all that long, but…does he seem okay to you?”
Guilt flooded her. “What do you mean?” she asked nervously.
Matt shrugged, his own worry evident. “In the conversations you’ve had with him, is he making sense?”
Well, that was a matter of opinion, Jen thought, recalling Emmett’s decision not to go see a doctor about the mysterious neurological symptoms he had been having. But that wasn’t what Matt was asking. Trying to answer him as honestly as possible, she said, “He seems very much in command of his faculties.”
Matt muttered, “If he were in command of his senses, he wouldn’t be doing this. Not without a damn good reason, anyway!” His phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it.
The scowl was back on Matt’s ruggedly handsome face. “That was a text from Dad. He’s back at the ranch house.” He extended a hand to Jen, making them a team once again. “Let’s go.”
* * *
MATT WASN’T SURPRISED to see his dad braced as if for battle the moment he and Jen walked in the door.
His movements stiff, Emmett turned away from the fireplace mantel and the picture of Margarite he had been studying. His back to the hearth, he snapped, “You should not have turned the crews away.”
Matt strode closer, fighting to control his own temper. His dad had been acting peculiarly for months now, shutting him out more than letting him in, and now this?
Aware Jen was busy shrinking into the background, Matt searched his dad’s eyes and found nothing except more evasion. “So it’s true?” He resisted the urge to punch something. Anything. “You’re really going to do this? Again?”
Emmett’s expression hardened. “Demand for quality limestone is up.”
As if that justified it! “There’s a crater the size of a football field in the middle of the ranch, Dad.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Matt saw Jen start to slip away. He caught her wrist and drew her back—not sure why he needed her there, just knowing that he did.
“When they finish this time, we’ll fill it with water and stock it with fish,” Emmett promised.
Would that change anything? “If we want to go boating or fishing, we can go to Lake Laramie,” Matt countered.
But Emmett didn’t want to do that, any more than he wanted to tell anyone what was going on with him. “I know you don’t agree with what I’ve done,” he said with a weariness that seemed soul deep.
Matt scoffed. “You’re damn right, I don’t!”
“But the decision has been made, the contracts signed, and there’s no reversing it.”
The question was why. If not a woman, then what? “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Matt asked.
Emmett ignored the question. “It’s my money. My land. I can do what I want with it. When you inherit it, son, you can do that in turn. Now, if you two will excuse me, I’ve got to call the limestone company and see what I can do to smooth things over.” His expression grim, he strode off.
Matt turned to Jen. She looked pale and uncomfortable, and he could hardly blame her. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said.
She shrugged. Now that the quarreling had stopped, she seemed a lot more tolerant of Emmett’s bullheadedness. “It’s not that bad. It’s just a quarry, Matt. You still have plenty of land. Maybe it’s a good thing your dad is building up some cash reserves.”
Her attempt to reassure him made Matt wonder. “Has my dad been talking to you about any of this?” He knew Emmett and Jen had spent a fair amount of time together and seemed to be able to talk rather intimately.
Jen looked taken aback by the question. She turned and headed through the hall toward the kitchen. “I was as surprised as you were this morning when the trucks drove up.”
Matt knew that was true.
Yet…
He followed her, studying her c
losely. “If you thought there was something I needed to know, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”
Jen went completely still and for a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she opened the fridge and got out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. She set both on the counter, then added butter, jam and bread. “You know my father was a binge drinker.”
Matt nodded, not sure what that had to do with this.
Jen layered bacon in a skillet and set it on the stove. “Alcoholism is a family disease.” She turned the flame to medium, then went back to the fridge to get out the orange juice. “It doesn’t just affect the drinker, it affects everyone.”
Matt leaned against the counter, listening intently.
“And when I was younger, I did what most families in that situation do. I tried to protect my dad by looking the other way, when I could tell trouble was brewing that would lead to a binge. Or I’d cover for him and try to protect him that way.”
Figuring he should help, too, Matt began making coffee. “When all you were doing was enabling.”
“Right.” With the ease of someone who had been cooking a long time, Jen set four slices of bread in the toaster, and went back to turn the bacon.
“Later, I realized keeping my dad’s secrets was not a good thing for me to be doing.”
Matt could see that.
“And ever since, I’ve tried to live my own life…and worry about me. I made the conscious decision to let other people make their own decisions and live with the consequences of those decisions, without me getting involved or trying to somehow control the outcome.”
Hence her one day at a time attitude.
Her refusal to try and control anything was, in essence, her way of trying to save herself.
The aroma of brewing coffee mingled with that of the cooking bacon. “You think when it comes to my dad and his financial decisions that I’m interfering where I have no business doing so?”
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