by Elle James
Jane pulled to a stop beside him and shifted into neutral.
He showed her how to lock the brake and then turn the key to kill the engine. Max unbuckled the strap beneath her chin. Jane slid the helmet off her head and laid it on the fuel tank. “That was fun,” she said, pushing her hand through her tangled hair.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
When she slid off the seat, her knees buckled.
He caught her against him and held her steady.
She laughed. “My legs feel like jelly.”
“Like riding a horse for any distance,” he said, “it takes some getting used to.”
“I’ll remember that.” She straightened and looked around. “This is lovely.”
“I think so.”
She walked toward the water and bent to scoop up a handful. “Do you bring all of your dates on picnics here?” She removed the glasses and splashed the water on her face, making muddy trails down her cheeks. “Some impression I’m making. I think I have enough dirt on my face to make a mud pie.” She set her sunglasses on the ground beside her and dug both hands into the water to splash it up into her face several times, washing away all of the dust from the ride. When she was finished with her face, she scrubbed her arms and hands, then shook off the water.
While she washed up, Max lifted the lid of the basket and pulled out a checkered tablecloth, which he spread on the ground. He anchored one corner with the basket to keep the wind from making off with the fabric.
Cookie had gone above and beyond his expectations. The chicken was wrapped in plastic bags. When he opened the bag, the scent filled the air and made his stomach rumble loudly.
Jane chuckled. “Hungry?”
“My chef—friend makes the most amazing fried chicken, potato salad and baked beans. I hope you’re hungry.”
“It sounds wonderful.” She sat on the corner of the blanket, her sunglasses back on her nose. “What can I do to help?”
“You can help yourself to the food provided. Sorry, all we have is paper plates and plastic utensils.”
She laughed, that smile lighting her face beneath the impenetrable sunglasses. “What’s a picnic without paper plates and plastic utensils?”
“Right?” He returned her smile. “I brought a bottle of wine. I hope you like red.”
“I like my wine dry,” she said. “So, red is wonderful.”
When he’d first met Jane, he found himself mentally tagging her with the old moniker “Plain Jane”. However, now that he’d witnessed her smile, he didn’t think of her as plain at all. He liked her smile.
He poured two stemless goblets of wine and handed one to her. He lifted his and held it toward her. “To new friendships.”
“To friendship.” She touched her goblet to his, and then sipped at the wine.
Jane chose a chicken breast from the bag and scooped a small spoonful of potato salad and baked beans onto her plate.
She ate all the large chicken breast before moving on to the potato salad. “The chicken was so good,” she said, licking her fingers.
“I’m partial to the potato salad. I’m sure I’m biased, but I think it’s the best of any I’ve ever had.”
She speared a chunk of potato and brought it to her lips. As she deposited it onto her tongue, she leaned back her head and drew in a deep breath, her breasts rising beneath her shirt. Then she moaned, “Mmm.”
Max’s groin tightened.
Jane’s reaction to the potato salad was as erotic as any porn movie, only better. It made him want to feed her the next bite to watch her do that again.
After chewing slowly and swallowing, she straightened and smiled. “That’s really tasty. Do you think he would give me his recipe?”
“I’ll ask.” He bit into his potato salad, half-expecting a similar orgasmic reaction. It was good, but her reaction was better. “Your profile stated that you’re a cook…?”
“Actually, I’m between careers. I want to be a cook and write my own cookbook.”
“Do you have any experience at being a cook?” he asked, biting into a forkful of baked beans.
“No,” she said. “But I want to learn. I’ve signed up for a French cooking class in Austin next month. I can’t wait.”
“What was your previous career?” he asked.
She popped a spoonful of baked beans into her mouth and chewed. “Wow, the beans are almost as good as the potatoes.” She scooped more beans onto her spoon and answered, “Fashion merchandizing.” Then she popped more beans into her mouth and chased it with the wine. After she swallowed, she faced him.
“Have you always been a rancher?” she asked.
He hesitated, not wanting to go into his past profession. From what he could tell, she didn’t know who he was.
Nonetheless, he’d practiced his answer to her question. “Not always.”
“Oh, yeah?” She tilted her head to one side. “What did you do before ranching?”
He drew in a deep breath and told half the truth, “I was into sports management.” And he had been…managing himself.
Her head tipped up and then down, as if she were taking him in from head to toe. “I can see that. You look like an athlete.”
He smiled. “And what does an athlete look like?”
“All muscle and not a spare ounce of flesh,” she answered.
He treated her to the same perusal, skimming her with his gaze. “I could say the same for you. All muscle, not a spare ounce of flesh.”
Her lips pressed together, and she turned her head away. “I didn’t get it from playing sports.”
“No?” He tipped his head. “I could see you as a runner.” She was thin and toned.
“I do cardio on a treadmill and elliptical. And when no one’s watching, I like to dance, but just for exercise. I’m not very good at it.”
“Have you ever done the two-step?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I haven’t had any dance lessons.”
“You don’t have to have dance lessons to do the two-step.” He covered the potato salad, beans and the packed them away with the remaining chicken into the picnic basket.
Jane gathered the plates and plastic utensils and stashed them in the plastic bag they’d arrived in.
Max shoved them into the basket with the food, pushed to his feet and held out his hand.
“Are we going?”
“No. You’re going to learn how to two-step.”
“Here?” she said, her head turning right then left.
He wanted to know what she felt like in his arms, although he was almost positive she’d feel good. By teaching her to two-step, he’d have a chance of holding her, without making her uncomfortable.
He looked around, his eyes narrowing, and then he winked. “No one’s watching.”
Her smile hit him in the gut. So far, he liked what he saw, but there was so much more to a relationship than looks. Sean had been right. Chemistry was important. He had to know there was chemistry between himself and Jane.
Jane placed her hand in his, sending a shock of awareness up her arm.
Max drew her to her feet, placed one hand at the small of her back, draped her hand on his shoulder, and held the other hand in his. “Just follow my lead.”
“But there’s no music,” she protested, although weakly.
“We’ll make our own.” He held her firmly in his grip. “It’s easy. Two quick steps and two slow steps. Start on your right foot moving backward. Ready?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Two quick, two slow, just like walking.” He smiled. “I’ll go really slow. Move your right foot first. Quick, quick, slooow, slooow.”
She moved her right foot, matching the rhythm of his words. With his hand braced against her back, he led her in a wide circle.
Moving with Max felt as natural as breathing. Soon, they were dancing around the glen to the sound of his quick, quick, slooow, slooow.
Just when she thought she had the steps down, he st
opped.
“Easy, right?” he asked.
She nodded. “But that’s without music.” Would music confuse her?
“Then let’s put the steps to music.” He gave her a twisted grin. “I can’t hold a tune in a bucket, but I’ll give it my best shot with a song my mother used to sing to me.”
He led her a couple rounds of two-stepping to his words quick quick, slooow slooow, before he started to sing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…”
Her heart swelled at the nostalgic tune. Her mother had sung that song to her as well. It brought back sweet memories she’d thought long forgotten.
Jane kept pace, her feet moving to the same beat as his, even when he wasn’t saying quick, quick, slow, slow.
“You make me happy when skies are gray,” he sang in a deep tone, his breath warm on her temple.
Jane closed her eyes and floated to the tune and the beat, her feet moving as if they had always known the steps, her hand warm and secure in his.
“You never know dear, how much I love you,” Max’s voice sang, the words growing softer, fading to a whisper.
Jane’s gut clenched. Behind the safety of her mirrored sunglasses, she stared up into his face.
He was looking down at her, his gaze on her lips.
Jane leaned into him and lifted her chin. At that moment, she wished he’d close the distance between her mouth and his with a kiss as soft as his words.
“Please don’t take my sunshine away.” Max slowed to a stop on the last word and continued to stare down at her.
Then he reached up and tilted her chin. His hand moved to the sunglasses, pulling them from her face.
Jane blinked at the bright daylight, and then focused on the man still holding her in his arms.
His eyes widened for a moment, and then narrowed. “Do you believe in déjà vu?”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” she said, her voice shaky.
“I can swear I’ve seen you before. But I haven’t, have I?”
She’d had that feeling as well but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Jane shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s the eyes. You have the same color eyes as someone I met not long ago.”
Her cheeks heated at the intensity of his stare. “My mother said they were the same color as periwinkles.”
He smiled down at her. “I would have called the color violet.”
She nodded. “On my driver’s license, they’re listed as blue.”
Max brushed his thumb over her temple and shook his head. “That’s wrong. Your eyes are violet, not blue. And they’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks burned under his compliment. She’d been called beautiful for most of her life. Standing in front of Max, wearing blue jeans and no makeup, she felt more beautiful than she’d ever felt in her life.
For a model who’d had her image plastered over every major magazine at one point or another in her life, hearing Max call her eyes beautiful meant so much more.
Then his head descended, and his lips grazed hers in a feather-light kiss.
She swallowed the moan sliding up her throat, lifted up on her toes and engaged his mouth in a more substantial kiss, opening to him.
His tongue swept in to claim hers, caressing the length in a slow, sensuous glide.
Jane clung to Max, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
If Max let go of her at that moment, she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her.
When he finally lifted his head, he stared down into her face. “I’d say I’m sorry for moving too quickly…but I’m not sorry.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sorry either.
The corner of the picnic blanket lifted and wrapped around their ankles, distracting them from the intensity of the kiss.
Jane backed away, bending over to untangle her legs from the blanket. Her heart raced, and her mouth tingled from the pressure of his.
Wow…just wow. To keep from making eye contact with him, and revealing how much that kiss had meant, Jane gathered the blanket. Taking her time, she matched the corners and folded the blanket into a neat square that fit easily into the other side of the saddlebag.
Max lifted the basket and placed it on the front rack of his four-wheeler, strapping it down with bungee cords.
Finally, he turned to her.
Jane forced herself to look at him without the sunglasses hiding her eyes.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. Ready for more than a trip back to the barn. Ready for this date to continue for much longer.
Alas, the sun was setting, and the shadows had lengthened and merged.
He waited for her to settle her helmet on her head and mount her ATV. Then he helped her get it started. Once she was ready, he slipped on his helmet and climbed aboard his vehicle.
Soon, they were racing across the fields, headed back the way they’d come.
Jane wondered if Max had felt the deep connection she’d felt with that kiss.
Or had the kiss disappointed him?
Jane’s heart skipped several beats, and she let off the pressure on the throttle, falling behind Max on the lead vehicle.
She squared her shoulders and gave the ATV a shot of fuel, sending it shooting forward.
She couldn’t worry about things out of her control. The best she could hope for was that he would ask her out again.
If he didn’t… She just might have to ask him.
Jane pushed that thought to the very back of her mind, refusing to linger in such negativity or radical thinking.
Chapter 7
Max could have kicked himself from here to tomorrow. What had he been thinking by stealing a kiss so soon on their first date?
Jane was special. Deep down, he already knew that. He couldn’t jump her bones on their very first outing. But he had kissed her so long and deep, it might as well have been sex. She’d know that was exactly what he wanted.
Hell, he had a hard-on she couldn’t have missed, pressed into her belly throughout that incredible, mind-blowing kiss.
He had to be more logical about this dating thing. Lust and emotions couldn’t get in the way of making a rational decision. Logic was key to a lasting relationship. Lust didn’t always last.
Oh, but it had flared like a mother-fu—
Logic. Think logic.
If he evaluated Jane’s pros and cons, he might come up with a more analytical approach to the woman following him.
Con: she’d never ridden a horse.
Then again, she’d never ridden a four-wheeler, and yet she was keeping up with him as he raced across the pasture toward the barn. The woman was game.
Con: she didn’t know much about ranching.
Then again, how many women had he known would have the first clue about anything to do with ranching? Not many.
Pro: she’d learned how to two-step and felt so good in his arms. Dancing and riding four-wheelers demonstrated her potential to adapt to new challenges.
It was a start, but was it enough? Ranching could be hard work. Then again, he had enough money to pay someone to do the hard work. How much did he expect his woman to do when it came to ranching?
He expected her to want to know what it entailed and, maybe, pitch in if they needed an extra hand.
Max’s brow furrowed. Jane’s hands had been soft and uncalloused. He couldn’t picture her grabbing a bale of hay and throwing it onto a stack. Hell, he couldn’t picture her getting dirt under her fingernails. Then again, she’d ridden behind him all the way, accumulating a thick layer of dust on her face and hadn’t complained about it messing up her hair or makeup. That counted for something.
Pro: she had the most amazing violet eyes.
Nope. He couldn’t think of any con to balance that one. Max felt as though he could fall into her gaze and never come out. Or ever want to come out.
Everything was moving too fast for him to get his arms around the entire experience. He wanted to skip pas
t getting to know her on an intellectual level and go straight to the physical level.
He shook his head and gunned the accelerator, sending his ATV down the bank of the creek a little faster than he should have and at an angle that missed the shallowest spot. When he hit the deep water, the ATV skimmed halfway through it, and then sank like a rock, with him on it.
The water was only four feet deep, but the vehicle completely submerged, choking the life out of the engine.
Max swore and floated off the seat, struggling to get his feet beneath him.
Behind him, he heard the trailing ATV come to a halt at the top of the bank.
Before he could turn and yell for Jane to stay where she was, she’d cut off the engine, leaped out of her seat and scrambled down the steep bank, her feet sliding out from under her on the loose gravel.
Max couldn’t get to her before her feet hit the slick mud his four-wheeler had churned up.
She screeched to a stop, her heels digging into the muck. When she pushed to stand, the mud caved in. Jane scrambled, her feet moving but gaining no purchase. Leaning forward like a snow boarder, she put out her arms and skied down the hill then flipped face first into the mud.
Max had waded toward her but hadn’t reached her until she’d made her climatic landing.
He reached down and grabbed her arms, lifting her out of the mud. He held her while she planted her feet on the smooth pebbles of the creek bed. Water rushed around their knees.
“Are you all right?” he asked, smoothing some of the mud from her face. His thumb created a pale trail across her cheek. She couldn’t have been muddier if she’d tried.
Her violet eyes shone out of the muddy mess. Then her lips spread, and a crooked smile parted the dark mud. “I’m getting you all muddy.” She moved her hands where she’d braced herself on his chest. Two large prints remained, along with a smear where he’d crushed her body against his to help her balance.
He chuckled. “A little dirt never hurt anyone, as long as you’re not hurt from that spectacular slide down the bank.”
She shook her head. “The only thing hurt was my pride.” Jane turned her head and spit mud out of her mouth. “Sorry.”
