Dylan (21 page)

“I know you like my cooking.”

His gaze never left hers as he touched the tip of his tongue between the knuckle of her forefinger and middle finger. “Better 'n Tyler's.”

“That's not a compliment.” She tried to yank her hand back, but he held it firmly in his grip.

“If you'd ever had to eat my brother's cooking, you'd know it was. Just ask Jesse. Tyler can't scramble up eggs without burning them, or pan fry a steak without turning it to boot leather.”

“I haven't made eggs for you yet and you haven't tasted my seared steak served on top of arugula and red peppers topped with fresh grated Asiago cheese.”

His stomach rumbled and he grinned and scooted off the bed. “Got any handy?”

She shook her head. “Do men ever think of anything other than sex and food?”

He stretched his arms overhead and touched the ceiling. The man was tall and broad—a feast for the eyes with all those muscles playing just beneath the skin. Her head demanded that she stop drooling over the man and get her butt back to work; she had orders to process, books to balance, and mangled stock to finish sorting through… not to mention more meals to prepare for the hungry men of the Circle G.

“Sometimes we don't think about either.”

Well, now that statement had her ears perking up. “Really?”

His smile was just this side of wicked. “Sometimes we sleep, darlin'.”

She reached for his T-shirt and slipped it over her head. It would be work to get back into her exercise clothes and she wanted to wrap Dylan's scent around her for a little while longer.

“Help yourself.” He was smiling as he pulled on his jeans and followed her to the kitchen. “So are you frying up a steak for me?”

Time to get down to business and keep one step ahead of the man, or they'd be right back where she needed to be: in his arms and in her bed. “Maybe,” she called out over her shoulder.

Reaching for the dish detergent, she turned on the hot water and a hint of cold and began to wash her hands, careful not to get her cut wet. Drying them off, she opened the fridge and looked inside. “Hmmm, I'm not sure if I have any thawed.”

She opened the freezer and found what she was looking for. “I've got two small steaks, all I have to do is thaw them.” While he watched, she took them out of their package and placed them on a plate and defrosted them in the microwave.

Satisfied with the results, she took out her largest frying pan and coated the bottom with extra virgin olive oil and let it heat.

“What are you doing to the steaks?”

“Just adding crushed coarse black pepper and a spritz of salt for flavor.”

“Before you fry them?”

She looked up and smiled at the concentration on his face. He looked like he was trying to memorize what she was doing to replicate it sometime in the future. She wouldn't mind having him in her kitchen while she cooked. The cracked wall around her heart shed a few more pieces.

She cleared her throat and said, “It enhances the flavor while the steak is searing.”

“Cooking?”

“Yes.” She smiled at her apt pupil. “At a very high heat, to brown the outside, but not overcook the inside which most people prefer rare to medium rare.”

He grinned at her as she transferred the meat to the pan and added the pepper and bit of salt to the other side. “I prefer that mine doesn't moo,” he drawled. “Just barely warmed would be good.”

***

Her laughter got to him on a level he didn't know existed. Watching her prepare food in her tiny kitchen, the precise way she measured, stirred, chopped, and didn't waste any motion or time, had him realizing that she'd be a perfect permanent addition to the Garahan kitchen.

Whoa! Don't let's go crazy just because the woman is amazing in bed.

She looked up from where she'd been beating a half dozen eggs in a bowl and smiled.
Hell, Son, just admit it
, his grandfather's voice bit out in his head.
She's perfect for you too.

His head felt light; he reached out to steady himself.

“Hey, are you OK?” Strong arms wrapped around him and guided him to the closest chair, settling him on it. “The steak'll be ready first. Can you handle arugula and red peppers with it, or do you just want it as a side to your eggs?”

Did he dare tell her that he heard his grandfather's voice in his head at odd times and that it sounded so real it comforted him? “On the side.”

Concern filled her gaze and his heart tumbled closer to the edge, perched to fall. In his mind's eye, it was a long way to the bottom, and not knowing what awaited him there, he dug deep for the fortitude to go forward knowing that he was on the verge of falling so far so fast, that he'd been dizzy with it.

Hell, she'd practically ripped his heart out of his chest and handed it back to him while they'd been making love. She gave one hundred percent, matched him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust.

Ronnie set a plate brimming with food in front of him. “Dig in,” she said with a hint of a smile.

He didn't need to be told twice. He scooped up a forkful of fluffy eggs, chewed, swallowed, and sighed. “I might just survive.” His gaze met hers. “Thanks.”

She turned around and flicked off the burner before the coffeepot boiled over. While it settled down, she served herself and placed the plate next to him, but she didn't sit down.

“Let me.” He reached for her hand. “You made breakfast. I'm man enough to admit that I ran out of energy. If my grandfather were here, he would smack me on the back of the head if I didn't at least pour coffee for the woman who worked so hard to please me… in bed and in the kitchen.”

“Does he still live out at the Circle G? I don't remember meeting him.”

Dylan paused and his gaze met hers. “When he was alive, he used to—he's been gone for awhile.”

Her eyes softened as she reached out to grab hold of his hand. Squeezing it, she pressed her lips to his knuckles. “My grandmother on my father's side is the only one still alive. I miss her. She's always reminding me to do the right thing and encouraging me to try things I'm afraid to.”

He nodded. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to think I'm crazy?”

“Cross my heart!” She waited, breath held.

He'd come this far, he may as well tell her. “Sometimes I hear him talking in my head, things he used to say when he was alive.”

Ronnie's eyes filled and she wiped at the tears. Undone, he thanked the Lord for a woman who understood the value of family. “I know my grandmother would love to meet you, but for now, you can talk to her. She loves to tell people what to do.”

They were both smiling when he nodded. “I just might take you up on that, but my brothers might want to talk to her too.”

Ronnie's laughter was light and lovely. “She will be in her glory.”

Dylan got up and rooted through her cabinets until he found two mugs and poured their coffee. “Milk?”

“Please,” she said, scooping up some eggs.

“Sugar?”

“Thanks.”

He served her and gave in to temptation and rested his cheek on the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent before he kissed the same spot. Ronnie was a woman with a heart of gold. She understood that he'd told her something private, and then offered to share what she had with her grandmother. She was definitely a keeper. He sat down and tucked into his meal.

Take
her
out
to
the
Circle
G, let her loose in the kitchen; you know she belongs there…

Is that your answer for everything, Grandpa? Take the women out to the ranch and see who's got the grit to stick it out? Didn't work out the first time for Tyler and me. Hell, for that matter, Jesse chose the wrong woman twice.

That's because none of you were thinking with your hearts.

“Is he talking to you now?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“What's he saying?”

“That I should take you out to the Circle G and let you loose in our kitchen.”

She laughed as she started to clear the table.

He scooted her out of the way, so he could fill the sink with hot water and soapy suds.

“This is my kitchen, damn it!”

He could tell she wasn't really angry. “And I'm doing your dishes, darlin', so take a load off.”

“You're in my way.”

He grinned at the picture she made. Emerald eyes flashing with pique, lips pouting, just begging to be kissed. “Hell.” He yanked her toward him and took as he pleased, filling himself to bursting with the tart-tongued taste of her. “Darlin', I'm wonderin' how long it'll take until I get my fill of you.”

She struggled out of his embrace and backed up. With a toss of her head, a strand of hair fell into her eyes. She batted it out of the way and grumbled, “Maybe I've had enough of you.”

He laughed out loud; it felt so good to spar with his filly. “Liar.” And to prove it, he picked her up, pulled her to his heart, and swung them around in a circle. Dizzy with the movement, dizzier from the woman in his arms, Dylan captured her lips in a kiss that promised everything.

She didn't respond until his tongue stroked hers and, like a match to tinder, she erupted into flames in his arms, threatening to burn the both of them alive. He let her slip out of his arms, pressing a possessive hand to her lower back, molding her to him. “Come home with me, Ronnie, darlin'.”

“Now?”

He slid his hands lower, indulging himself by cupping her taut backside and hearing the catch in her breath right before he nipped her chin. “Right now.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “I need to get a few things together.”

He brushed his lips to the spot he'd nipped and slid his hands up to her waist. “That'll give me time to get my lumber list together to finish the job downstairs. Right now, I've got this powerful need to see you at the Circle G… Besides, my brothers'll be finishing up the last of the before-supper chores and will be hungry as bears.”

“Do you think they liked what I cooked the other night enough to want more?”

“Didn't you see the way they tucked into that pot of meatballs and sauce?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I… uh… was a little preoccupied and didn't notice.”

He brushed his lips across hers one last time and then set her free. “If we're gonna get there before they get desperate enough to eat the varnish off the table, we'd best get a move on.”

When she stared at him, he winked at her. “We're burnin' daylight.”

She laughed a joyful sound that eased the worry hiding inside of him. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

He headed toward the stairs. “Clock's tickin', darlin'.”

“Are you certain your brothers won't mind if I stay the night?”

Dylan's smile was slow and sensual, igniting the embers of their earlier lovemaking. “Darlin', they'd walk on water if you'll cook more than dinner for them. Trust me.”

Looking up at the man riding beside her, she acknowledged the gift for what it was: a sign that she hadn't made a mistake in trusting her body to the man, and now taking it one step further and trusting him with a bit more of herself. “I think I will.”

He let his gaze slide to hers before focusing on the road before them. Rather than respond verbally, he grunted.

“What's that supposed to signify?”

He snickered. “Lord above, now you sound like Veronica instead of Ronnie, using fancy words when just plain English will do.”

“But I got more than a grunt out of you,” she said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

“Just adds icing to the cake, darlin'.”

She wondered if he was referring to her or their budding relationship as the cake. In the past she would have let it slide and not asked, but that was the old Ronnie. The new Ronnie asked questions when they popped into her head… and damn the consequences.

“So, darlin',” she said, tossing his favorite expression back at her. “Am I the cake?”

He licked his lips and ground out. “Don't tease a man when he's driving.”

Shifting on the seat next to him, she realized she'd been teasing herself as well. “You didn't answer me.”

He signaled and pulled off to the shoulder and put it in park. His eyes were like molten chocolate, a sign he was either ready to turn up the tension and get down to getting busy or the other less favorable reaction—he might be getting angry.

“If you don't want me to toss you over my shoulder and into the truck bed to have my way with you while the entire population of Pleasure drives past, giving them a view of God's greatest creation—your amazing backside—then you'll let me concentrate on driving.”

She licked her lips and he closed his eyes and groaned. “I'm not foolin', darlin'. Just sitting next to you knowing how quickly you shoot to peak has been messing with my mind.”

Ronnie dared to touch the side of his face with the tips of her fingers and rasped, “I'm sorry.”

He stiffened and moaned and reached for her. “Darlin', you are lethal.”

She shifted and put up her hands, warding him off. “I've never had this affect on anyone before. It's kind of nice.”

His nostrils flared and his brows lowered until he was glaring at her. “Nice ain't got nothing to do with what I'm feeling right now.”

“Doesn't.”

He shook his head. “Doesn't what?”

She laughed. “Ain't isn't a word.”

“The hell it ain't,” he said, sliding back over to his side of the truck, irritation replacing the lust she'd just seen in his dark eyes.

At least they'd get farther out of town and closer to the ranch before she dared to tease the man beside her again. She planned to get a rise out of the man again soon… very soon. Ronnie needed to feed the fires of passion flaring back to life. Her fertile mind was trying to decide just how soon she could coax the man into bed with her.

The farther they drove, the more relaxed Dylan became. The scenery changed and the spaces opened up from the confines of town life to the acres of land owned by local ranchers. There was something about the land that called to her. Back home, she lived in suburban hell. She never really liked living on top of her neighbors, with so little space between the houses, but she hadn't had a choice until recently, when she'd packed her truck and pointed it toward the sunset.

“It's really beautiful out here.”

He made a sound of agreement deep in his throat but didn't say anything, keeping his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel.

Turning toward the window, she breathed deeply and was delighted with the sweet scent that filled her nostrils. “What smells so good?”

Dylan beamed. “Home.” Putting the truck into park, he got out to open the gate and got back into drive through.

Before he could get out to repeat the process, Ronnie got out and closed the gate behind them. When she got back into the front seat, he thanked her. “Saved me a trip.”

“My pleasure. Now tell me just what it is that smells so sweet out here.”

“Hard to say,” he answered. “My brothers and I narrowed it down to one or two possibilities over the years.”

She watched his face, amazed at how different he looked when he was talking about the Circle G, how relaxed he appeared now that they were on Garahan land. “Are you going to make me drag it out of you?”

He tilted his head to one side and seemed to be thinking about it. “That could be interesting.”

“Arrgghh… Dylan!”

At the fork in the road, he turned left. “In a few minutes, we'll be closer to one of the sources of the sweetest scents known to man.”

They drove for about a half a mile before he pulled over next to a pond. This time he turned off the truck when he put it in park. He got out and opened her door for her. “Come on,” he said reaching for her hand.

She swung her legs to get out and placed her hand in his. Skin to skin, palm to palm, felt good… felt right. Letting him lead, she willingly followed.

“Stand right here,” he said, positioning her at the edge of the pond. “Now wait for it…”

“For what?”

“Patience,” he said watching the tall grass on the other side of the water. “OK… now breathe deep.”

She did and was rewarded with a lungful of the sweetest air on earth. “Is it the water or the grass?”

“Don't know. Tyler thinks it a combination of the grass, water, and good old Texas dirt.”

She nodded. “I have noticed that different parts of the United States have different colored dirt. I suppose it makes sense that it would smell different too.”

Dylan got down on one knee and dug into the dirt by the edge of the pond. “Watch the grass and wait until it starts to sway toward us, then take another deep breath of the air, water, and dirt.”

Ronnie did as she was told, watching Dylan's expression change from hesitant to expectant. She really was a goner if she was ready to sniff a handful of Texas dirt just because Dylan asked.

“Well?”

“I can't decide which of the three it is, but the air is definitely sweeter out here than in town.”

Dylan tossed the dirt on the ground, brushed his hand on his thigh, and reached for her again. This time, he reeled her in and held her close. “What is it about you?”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Maybe it's you.”

He lowered his mouth; she licked her lips and stood on the tips of her toes, unable to wait for him to move closer. He shifted her closer until not a breath of air separated them and then simply devoured her. She melted against him, wanting him more than the next breath she took. Taking her cue from him, she let her tongue trace the shape of his mouth before delving deeply to tangle her tongue with his.

Dylan's moan of pleasure heightened her own. When he gently set her away from him, she wondered why, but didn't have a chance to ask.

“We really need to go now, or my brothers will be very hungry tonight, because I won't be going back inside until I've spent some time plumbing your depths.”

She shivered at the thought of making love to her hot Texas hunk out by the pond. “Can we come back out here… later?”

Dylan grinned. “Darlin', you can count on it.”

“OK, we'd better get going before I change my mind and jump you right here.”

Dylan looked like he'd swallowed his tongue. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before opening them again. “Ronnie darlin', you'd best get back in the truck. I'll follow along behind.”

She reached for his hand, but he shook his head. “Not going to happen if we're going to make it back to the kitchen without tearing each other's clothes off before we go three feet.”

Nodding, she dropped her hand and walked over to the truck and got inside. A few minutes later, he joined her.

The ride back the way they'd come seemed longer than the ride out to the pond, most definitely due to the fact that they were both trying to keep their hands to themselves and their lusty thoughts under control.

Finally, Dylan pulled up next to the house. Getting out, they walked side by side but didn't touch one another. Ronnie knew if she did, they'd have an audience if the loud voices coming from inside the house were real and not the TV or radio.

Dylan opened the door for her and she walked into pandemonium. She froze on the threshold and felt her jaw go slack. Tyler and Jesse stood in the center of the room arguing while a pan smoked on the stovetop, sludge bubbled in the bottom of the drip pot on the counter, and the sink was rapidly filling with water.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Dylan bellowed the question.

His brothers turned as one and started speaking at the same time. Since it seemed that no one was going to take the pan off the burner, turn off the faucet or the coffeemaker, Ronnie did while the men argued.

Finally, she'd heard enough. “Will you three listen to one another?”

As one the men turned to face her. “Well, now, Dylan, why didn't you say that you had someone with you?” Tyler asked.

“Ronnie, how are you?” Jesse said, moving toward her with his hand outstretched.

Charmed, she grasped it and heard an odd sound coming from behind her. “Do you have a large cat?”

Tyler grinned. “No, what you're hearing is the sound of our brother outlining his territory.”

Confused, she shook her head. “By growling?”

Jesse shot a look in his brother's direction and finally let go of her hand.

Dylan moved closer and wrapped his arm around Ronnie. He turned toward Jesse and ground out, “Stop horning in on my woman.”

A thrill raced up Ronnie's spine. She looked up at him. “Yours?”

His nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed, connecting with hers. “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

She felt the smile from the inside out. “Not on your life.” Going with the flow, she slid her arms around Dylan's waist and hugged him tight. “Oh, by the way, guys, I turned off the stove, the coffeemaker, and the faucet. What were you two trying to do: burn the place down or flood it?”

Tyler shrugged, and Jesse put his hands in his back pockets and rocked back and forth but didn't say anything.

Dylan reached out and smacked Jesse on the back of the head.

“Hey, what did you do that for?”

“If you have to ask, then you're not as smart as you think you are,” Tyler said with a grin.

“Are the three of you finished?” Ronnie asked, easing out of Dylan's embrace. “A fire in the kitchen is a serious matter. You should always pay attention and not leave the coffeemaker on so long that it turns the coffee into sludge.”

Tyler nodded. “My fault, sorry.”

“Who left the empty pan on a lighted burner? That's a bigger risk of fire than the coffeemaker.”

“Sorry,” Jesse said. “My fault.”

“What about the sink?”

Tyler and Jesse looked at Dylan who raised his hands up in the air. “Can't pin that on me, guys. I was with Ronnie.”

From the identical looks on the Garahan brothers' faces, she knew just what the men were thinking; she felt her cheeks flushing with heat. Oh yeah, they knew exactly what she and Dylan had been doing before they got here. To redirect their thoughts, she smiled and made shooing motions toward Tyler and Jesse. “Out of the kitchen.”

Jesse stopped in his tracks. “But it's our kitchen.”

She grinned up at him. “Ah, but you can't cook like I can.”

He looked at Tyler for help. The oldest Garahan shook his head. “I'll start on the laundry if you'll start on the upstairs bathroom.”

Jesse cringed. “Best two out of three falls, and I get to do the laundry.”

Before he could carry through on his suggestion, Tyler grabbed the front of Jesse's T-shirt and pulled him toward the door. “Maybe next time. Come on, Bro.”

“Alone at last,” Dylan said wrapping his arms around Ronnie from behind and hugging her to him. “I could get used to seeing you in our kitchen.” He kissed the side of her neck. “And out by the pond later.”

Warmth radiated from the pit of her belly up to her heart; this time, she could swear she heard more cracks as bigger chunks of the wall around her heart broke apart. “Play your cards right, cupcake, and you could have both.”

He spun her around until they were face to face. “I've warned you about teasing.”

She slid her hands around his neck and met his hungry gaze and raised him one. “Who's teasing?”

Their lips met and her heart soared. When his hands swept down to grip her hips, she placed her hands on top of his as she firmly pushed him away from her. “I need some space if you expect me to cook dinner for your clan.”

His eyes smoldered and he reached for her again.

Ronnie shook her head. “Think about where you'd like to start when we're out by the pond later beneath the soft light of the moon, while I rustle up something to make your taste buds stand up and sing.”

Dylan's eyes spoke volumes. The want, the need, and the passion combined as one and called to her, tempting her to simply reach out and take his hand, but Ronnie was raised to do the right thing. She made a promise, and it was up to her to be strong enough to keep it.

“Later,” she whispered. “Now skedaddle.”

Dylan spun on his boot heel and stalked from the kitchen.

She knew he wasn't angry with her; more than likely he was trying to deal with the same sensory overload she'd been trying to cope with since they'd come apart in each other's arms earlier that afternoon.