Jackson Hole Valentine (12 page)

Cole pretended to yawn. “I think I’m going to stretch out on that big bed of mine and rest my eyes.”

“Maybe we could all rest our eyes for a few minutes?” Meg said.

“I’m all for it.” Cole forced an extra-hearty tone.

“I’ve an idea.” Charlie bounced up and down on the sofa. “We’ll all take a nap together on Uncle Cole’s bed. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cole caught the look of startled surprise that skittered across Meg’s face. Because the light had returned to Charlie’s eyes, Cole shoved aside his own misgivings and grinned. “Great idea, son. What do you say, Meg? Care to join me in bed?”

Chapter Eight

M
eg kept her arms firmly plastered to her side and tried to tell herself that lying on top of Cole Lassiter’s bed was no big deal.

After all, Charlie was between them and she had on all her clothes. Not to mention the California king went on forever. You could easily have five people on it and they’d never touch. Which was good because
touching
Cole was the last thing on Meg’s mind this afternoon.

She’d heard the challenge in his voice when he’d asked if she wanted to join him in bed. He’d been taunting her. Confident she’d turn him down. Which she wouldn’t have had trouble doing if it hadn’t been for Charlie and the pleading look in his eyes.

Talking about her and Cole going their separate ways and sharing custody had been an error in judgment. Charlie had lost his parents only weeks ago. To even mention more change to the boy at this time didn’t make any sense.

Cole realized it, too. She knew that’s why he’d started talking about naps. And why the three of them were now lying on his bed with the shades drawn.

Meg closed her eyes. She’d almost drifted off to sleep when Cole murmured something to her, something she couldn’t quite hear. Hoping he didn’t expect to have a conversation with Charlie already asleep between them, Meg pushed herself up on one elbow.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that his eyes were shut and his lips now silent. She hadn’t realized that he talked in his sleep. Of course, that was understandable considering they’d never spent the night together.

Even when they’d been sneaking around seeing each other, she hadn’t known all that much about him. Oh, she’d known that he loved animals and had a sense of humor in sync with her own. She knew he had a lot of friends and rarely said an unkind word about anyone. He’d even befriended Chip before championing the underdog was cool. Still, what made him tick had remained a mystery.

Other than the time he’d confided that he had difficulty reading, he’d shared very little personal information. The fact that he’d graduated from college and started his own successful business made her wonder if the confession had been merely a ploy to make her think he was sharing something of importance with her.

She’d believed him. Had worried about his reading difficulties. And, though Cole had sworn her to silence, she’d even sought the advice of her father—an English teacher at the local high school—on how to help someone who’d reached seventeen without being able to read well. Her father had asked who this person was, but all she’d told him was “a friend,” not wanting to betray Cole’s confidence.

It hadn’t mattered. Within days of his confession, in fact the day after he’d taken her innocence in the backseat of that old Chevy, he quit calling. When she saw him in school he walked by as if she didn’t exist.

Being young and foolish and convinced she was in love, she’d waited a couple of days before tossing aside her pride and calling him. She’d realized it was over when he didn’t call her back. Then her folks had died.

Her world had suddenly been turned upside down. She’d desperately needed someone to hold her close and tell her she would survive…and she’d still hoped that person would be Cole. But he hadn’t shown his face at either the visitation or the funeral. Considering all they’d shared, his absence had been a slap in the face.

She collapsed back against the pillow and closed her eyes, letting sleep steal her away from the memories she wished she could forget....

Meg told herself to wake up, but the dream was so compelling she couldn’t leave it, not yet. Cole had come to her.

With a contented sigh, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. Her head fit perfectly against his chest, just under his chin. Having him so close was a dream come true.

She loved the way he smelled, a woodsy mixture of cologne and soap and maleness that brought a tingle to her lips and heat percolating low in her belly.

His hand flattened against her lower back, drawing her up against the length of his body. Meg pressed herself more fully against him, the action bringing back memories of when they’d made love.

The man now holding her in his arms had been the first to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her. But once wasn’t enough.

She longed to once again run her hands over his body, to feel the coiled strength of skin and muscle sliding under her fingers. She wanted him to touch her in the same way, wanted to feel the weight of his body on hers. Wanted to feel him inside her.

She planted a kiss at the base of his neck, his skin salty beneath her lips.

“Are you sure this is wise?” The words seemed to come from far away.

Of all the times for her conscience to make an appearance. Even in a dream, participating in a fantasy wasn’t always wise. But she couldn’t stop. Didn’t
want
to stop. Being in Cole’s arms felt so right.

She wound her arms around his neck and lifted her face.

He folded her more fully into his arms, anchoring her against his chest as his mouth covered hers in a deep, compelling kiss. Dreamily, Meg stroked his thick hair. He tasted as sweet as spearmint candy from The Coffee Pot.

His hand closed over one breast, cupping it high in his hand, circling the peak with his fingers. Meg inhaled sharply and, for a second, panicked. Until she remembered that this was a dream and there was no reason to deny herself anything.

If he’d noticed her momentary hesitation, he gave no indication. He continued to kiss her with a slow thoroughness that left her weak, trembling and longing for more. When his tongue swept across her lips, seeking access, she eagerly opened her mouth to him, pulling his body on top of hers, her tongue fencing with his.

The warmth in her lower belly turned fiery hot and became a pulsating need. There was only one problem. There were clothes between them. Thankfully she had a solution....

She slipped her hand between them, smiling when she encountered a hard bulge, closing her fingers over the strained zipper, anticipation coursing up her spine.

“Aunt Meg?”

Her fingers stilled. Was that Charlie’s voice? What was the child doing in her R-rated—soon to be X-rated—dream? A moment later she heard his voice again, more insistent this time.

Though every fiber of her being longed to ride this dream through to completion, Meg reluctantly opened her eyes…and found herself face-to-face with Cole Lassiter.

Cole knew he should have pushed Meg away when she’d first snuggled up against him. But they were alone—Charlie had long since gotten up and headed into the living room to watch cartoons—and she’d looked so beautiful lying there, that he couldn’t resist. He’d wrapped his arm around her, his heart experiencing a tug of déjà vu in the process.

When she kissed his neck, he somehow found the words to ask if she was
sure
. Sure she knew what she was doing. Sure this was really a road she wanted to go down. Her answer had been to twine her hands around his neck and lift her lips to his.

From the shock in her eyes now, she obviously was having some second thoughts about that decision.

Cole rolled off of her, sensing by the murderous look on her face that being tossed to the floor was a distinct possibility. Only when he was flat on his back did he realize they weren’t alone. Charlie stood at the foot of the bed.

“My daddy used to kiss my mommy like that,” the boy said in a pleased tone. Charlie cocked his head and rocked back on the heels of his cowboy boots. “Can I have a soda?”

“Sure.” Meg’s voice sounded strangled. “Just make sure not to spill.”

“’Kay.” The boy tossed the word over his shoulder as he raced from the room.

Charlie had barely disappeared from sight when Meg punched Cole in the shoulder.

“What did you think you were doing?” she sputtered. “Kissing me like that?”

“You started it.” Cole pushed himself to a sitting position, his jeans tight enough to strangle, his heart pounding an irregular rhythm. His head may have gotten the message the fun was over, but his body definitely hadn’t.

“What do you mean
I
started it?” She sat up, her hair a tangled mass of auburn curls.

“Charlie left to watch cartoons. I was lying here, minding my own business, trying to decide if I should get up, when you kissed my neck.” Even as his body responded to her touch, he’d told himself to push her away.

But then he’d taken a deep breath and his good intentions had been lost. Her perfume, a light floral fragrance, reminded him of spring. And of the good times they’d once shared.

“I was sleeping,” Meg asserted, color high in her cheeks. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

He snorted. Granted, she’d kept her eyes closed, but she’d been awake enough to respond to his question.

“I
asked
if you thought this was wise,” he said, meeting her gaze head-on. “You responded by kissing me.”

She opened her mouth then shut it. After a long moment her lips turned up in a rueful smile. “Okay, I admit it. I was a willing participant in the madness.”

“You were?” His voice rose.

“I thought I was dreaming.” She pushed her hair back from her face with one hand. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to kiss you. If Charlie hadn’t come in, I probably would have gone a lot further.”

For a second he wondered if she was playing with him. Until he remembered her fingers on his zipper. His body stirred in response. “Seriously?”

The pink in her cheeks deepened and she shrugged. “What can I say? It’s that same crazy physical attraction that brought us together way back when.”

Cole pushed on his bad leg—hard—and the sharp stab of pain told him he wasn’t dreaming. But he had to be. It made no sense that Meg would confess her, well, her
lust
for him.

“You feel it, too. Don’t bother to deny it.” Meg’s gaze dropped to just below his belt buckle. “I’m a medical professional. I recognize the signs.”

His maleness surged as her gaze lingered.

“I have no intention of denying it,” he said in a gravelly voice.

From the moment she’d shown up on his radar screen, he’d wanted her with an intensity he couldn’t explain. She’d been standing by her locker in the old high school, baggy gold sweater, modest plaid skirt showing off long shapely legs, auburn curls spilling down her back.

Jackson Hole High wasn’t that big of a school. Even though he and Margaret didn’t run in the same social circle, he’d known she was Travis Fisher’s sister, the oldest girl in a family of eight. President of the science club. Honor Society member. And, unlike most of her female classmates, a girl who appeared to prefer the brainy geeks in her accelerated classes to football stars.

Usually when he saw her, she had guys like Ed Rice, class valedictorian, hanging around. But this time she’d been alone.

“Large breasts.” Meg pointed a thumb to her chest. “That’s why you liked me.”

Her words brought Cole back to the present with a jolt. He could tell her there had been lots of girls back then with big boobs, er, breasts. She’d been different. But what would be the point?

“There’s nothing wrong with physical attraction,” he said. “That’s the only reason you agreed to take that walk with me.”

Even as the words left his lips, he hesitated. Meg hadn’t been a football groupie. If she was, she’d have talked about things that interested him, instead of English literature.

The second they’d begun strolling through the Elk Refuge, she’d launched into a discussion of the books they’d read in class. Or rather, ones he should have read. Any knowledge he had of the novels had been based entirely on tidbits gleaned from class discussion. Or the movie version he’d rented from the video store.

She’d obviously been nervous, searching for common ground. Yet all her chatter did was to emphasize the differences between them. Surprisingly the attraction remained.

“I wanted to kiss you,” she admitted.

“The physical pull was strong.”

“Though I liked the kissing,” she said slowly as if choosing her words carefully, “I thought our relationship went beyond the physical.”

He’d thought there was more to it, too. When he told her he loved her, he’d meant it.

Cole wasn’t quite sure why she was acting as if she’d cared for him back then. Thanks to her good friend Ed Rice, he knew what she’d really thought of him. Intellectually, Cole had been judged and found wanting.