Lead Me Home (11 page)

“I can. I’ve found a gourmet market in Jackson that has all sorts of great ingredients.”

“But if you tuck those black truffles under the skin of the roasted chicken like the recipe says, every cowboy in the room, with the possible exception of Pete, who’s fairly sophisticated, will think that chicken has mange. Or it’s somehow decaying and you haven’t noticed.”

“I can tell them it’s only black truffles. And they’ll learn something new.”

“Aurelia, there are certain colors that don’t work with your average cowboy when it comes to food. Black is one of them. When he sees black food, he assumes it’s either burnt or it’s gone bad. It’s a mind-set that you’ll have trouble changing.”

Her beautiful mouth formed the cutest little pout. If he left his chair and went over there, he could get rid of that pout and have a great time doing it. But they wouldn’t get the menu planned, and after they’d kissed and carried on, all without any satisfaction for him because he was without a second condom, she might go ahead with the chicken in partial mourning that she was so set on.

Then he’d get slammed for not being able to influence her food choices. If he couldn’t do that, people might question what business he had coming up here every night, and the whole program would be in jeopardy. So he couldn’t leave his chair and kiss away her pout.

“Use regular mushrooms instead of the black truffles and then you’ll be okay,” he said. “Oh, and where it tells you to puree all the veggies and pour them on the platter? Don’t puree the veggies. The guys will think you’re giving them baby food.”

Aurelia propped her chin on her fist and stared at him. “Then it’s not the same dish.”

“No, but it’s not fried chicken and potato salad, either.”

“You’re no fun, Matthew.”

He smiled at her. “That isn’t what you said in the laundry room.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Okay, you’re fun in that respect, but when it comes to cooking, you’re a total wet blanket.”

“It’s my job.”

“I think they’d be fascinated by the black truffles.”

“Sure they would, as long as you didn’t serve them for lunch. When a man’s been mucking out stalls all morning, it’s best not to startle him with what’s on his plate for lunch. He wants something he recognizes, and black truffles don’t qualify.”

“Okay, okay!” She held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll make it with regular mushrooms and I won’t puree the veggies. I can see your point about that part. A grown man doesn’t want his veggies put through a blender as if he has no teeth to chew with.”

“Now you’re getting the idea. By the way, will the boys be eating dinner here tomorrow night?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to serve them?” Matthew figured he might as well cover that base while he was at it.

“Bifteck marchand de vin.”

“I get the wine and steak part of that, but what’s the
marchand
in it?”

“It’s shallot-red-wine sauce.”

“Mmm.” Matthew could almost taste it. “Wish I could have some of that tomorrow night.”

“Come on up. I’m sure Sarah wouldn’t care, and the boys would love it.”

He considered that for a moment. “I think I’d better eat down at the bunkhouse. The guys like the fact that I’m hanging out down there, and if I started coming up here to eat dinner, I don’t know how that would go over. But I wouldn’t object if you saved me a little bit to taste.”

“I can do that. So you approve of my dinner menu for the kids, then?”

“I think they’ll like it fine.”

“I can have yours ready when you get here.” She gave him a slow smile. “You want it sliced and made into a tender little sandwich? Or juicy and hot?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the steak?”

“Would I do that?”

“I think you might. And I think…” He forgot what he’d been about to say when her foot slid up his leg and across his thigh to settle against his crotch. “What are you doing, Aurelia Imogene?”

“Nothing.”

But she was definitely doing something. She’d slipped off her sandal and was rubbing the ball of her foot over his zipper. She was getting a rise out of him, too.

Reaching down, he caught her foot and held it still. “Don’t tease.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I would love it if I’d brought more supplies, but I didn’t, so you’re torturing me for nothing.”

“For someone who’s traveled the world, you don’t have much imagination when it comes to sex.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that claim.”

“That could be true.” Pulling her foot free, she scooted down in her chair. “Maybe I should get to know you better.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then let me demonstrate.” In no time she’d disappeared under the table, and next thing he knew, she was kneeling under it and had a hold on his zipper.

“Aurelia.” He leaned over and peered at her. “Come out of there.”

“I will in a minute.” She pulled his zipper down and reached inside his jeans.

“Hey.” He caught her wrist. “Stop that.”

“But I think you would really like it.” She fondled him with her other hand. “I’m no expert at this, but I can probably give you a great memory to take back to the bunkhouse.”

Sitting up again so he had better balance, he grabbed that wrist, too. “I already have a great memory of you having an orgasm on the dryer.”

Her voice lowered into a soft purr of seduction. “Then how about a great memory of me giving you an orgasm under the kitchen table? This might be your one and only chance, because tomorrow night the house will be full of people again.”

He was trying mightily to resist, but the more she talked, the harder he became.

She leaned down and rubbed her cheek against the cotton of his briefs, which were barely restraining his bad boy. “You say no, but this part of you says yes.”

“You’re crazy.” As the ache for her grew stronger, his resistance weakened.

“Earlier you said I was passionate.”

“Crazy and passionate.”

She nuzzled him through the cotton material. “I want you,” she murmured. “I want to lick and nibble and suck and—”

Groaning softly, he let go of her wrists. He was only human, and she was…ah, she was making love to the tip of his penis. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sensation. He had a clear mental image of her plump mouth, and as he thought of it closing over that sensitive part of him, he almost came right then.

But now that he’d surrendered, he wanted it to last longer than a few seconds. That wasn’t going to be easy as she dipped one hand inside the opening of his briefs and cupped his family jewels. She might not be an expert at oral sex, but she had good instincts. Soon he had to grip the edge of the table and clench his jaw to keep from moaning out loud at the pleasure she was giving him.

With one hand fondling his twins, one stroking his shaft, and her mouth and tongue very busy playing him like a flute, he knew this ecstasy wouldn’t last long. His orgasm rolled closer, stealing his breath and kicking his heart into high gear. Then she did some swirly thing with her tongue and took him all the way to the back of her throat.

Squeezing his eyes shut and choking back his cry of release, he erupted. Boldly she caressed him, milking him of all he had to give until the tremors gradually faded. He slumped in his chair with his eyes closed, and wondered if he could just stay there for the night, or maybe for the next week or two. He wasn’t sure how soon he’d be capable of moving.

Vaguely he realized that she’d tucked his happy penis back inside his briefs and zipped his fly. He lost track of her whereabouts after that, but she must have climbed out from under the table, because now she was leaning over him and kissing his cheek.

“Thanks for the menu-planning session,” she murmured in his ear. “I think it’s time for you to go back to the bunkhouse, unless you want to spend the night in my bed and say to heck with what people think when they find out.”

Taking a long, slow breath, he opened his eyes and looked up at her. “You are an amazing woman, Aurelia Imogene Smith.”

She smiled. “That’s the orgasm talking.”

“Nope.” Planting his palms flat on the table, he pushed himself to his feet. “That’s experience talking.” He drew her into his arms. “I’m not exactly a virgin, you know. I have some basis for comparison, and you are amazing. After knowing you for twenty-four hours, I’m prepared to be your sex slave.”

Tilting her head, she looked up at him. “Come back tomorrow night and I’ll take you up on that.”

“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.”

8

A
URELIA MADE THE CHICKEN
with regular mushrooms instead of black truffles, but once again, she couldn’t call the dish by its proper name because Matthew had talked her into stripping the meaning right out of it. The chicken was no longer in partial mourning. It looked pretty much like any roasted chicken would.

She’d figured out years ago that she wasn’t good at art, music or writing. But cooking satisfied her urge to bring something new and useful into the world, especially when the final result was beautiful or interesting. This chicken didn’t qualify on either account.

Still, the warmth of Matthew’s gaze whenever she caught him watching her during lunch was worth bastardizing as many recipes as necessary. Several of the hands and a couple of the teenagers came up after lunch to compliment her on the meal.

She wasn’t sure if they were doing it on their own or if Matthew had prompted them, but either way, she was happy about their comments. If they genuinely liked the food, then she was making progress. If they were only following Matthew’s directions, his support meant the world to her and she could be happy about that, too.

He found a moment during lunch to invite her back down to the corral this afternoon to watch him work with Lester and Houdini. He said some of the other boys would be included today, as well. She cleaned up the kitchen in record time so she could do that.

When she arrived, six teenagers lined the fence rail instead of seven. Emmett wasn’t around, nor was his daughter Emily, who often helped with the boys. But the tall, dark-haired cowboy named Tucker was there to supervise. Inside the corral, Matthew stood back while Lester held an English saddle out to Houdini and talked to him about it.

Aurelia joined Tucker at the railing. “How come they’re using an English saddle instead of a Western one?” Aurelia didn’t know a lot about horsemanship, but she recognized the difference in saddles.

“That’s Matthew’s idea. Houdini had a bad experience with a Western saddle.” Tucker tipped his hat back. “Sarah called his former owners this morning, and sure enough, when they had Houdini their son was about Lester’s size and he spent a lot of time with the horse.”

“So that’s why Houdini took so quickly to Lester.”

Tucker nodded. “That’s the theory. Houdini seems to trust him. I’m not saying he doesn’t trust Matthew, because I think he does, but his preference seems to be for Lester. Matthew’s smart enough to use that.”

“And Lester’s obviously having the time of his life.”

“Yeah.” Tucker grinned. “If he keeps this up and becomes Houdini’s best friend, he’ll probably end up with a job here once he’s old enough.”

“I’m gonna get a job here when I’m old enough,” said the boy standing closest to Tucker.

Aurelia recognized Gary, a chubby boy with brown hair and freckles.

Gary’s comment was followed by the others piping up with “Me, too.”

“It’s a great place to work,” Tucker said. “I’ve been here since last fall, and I love it.” He pointed to the black and white Paint in the corral. “Fortunately that horse didn’t cost me my job last Christmas.”

That got everybody’s attention. Aurelia and the boys listened in fascination as Tucker described Houdini’s Christmas Eve escape from the barn right before a blizzard.

“It was my fault that he got out, so I went after him on a snowmobile, which I wrecked, but I caught the horse. Then the blizzard hit.”

Gary was wide-eyed. “Then what?”

“An angel rescued me and Houdini.”

“A real angel?”

Tucker laughed. “I think she is, but she claims she’s not. Her name’s Lacey, and we’re getting married this Christmas Eve.”

“Wow.” Gary glanced into the corral. “You should probably invite Houdini to the wedding.”

“I probably should at that. Now that Matthew and Lester are teaching him manners, I might be able to find a way to work him into the celebration. There’s no doubt that horse was our matchmaker.”

“Then I’m glad he’s being trained,” Aurelia said. “Maybe Matthew should see how he does with a sleigh if you’re having a Christmas Eve wedding.” She leaned against the top rail of the fence as she pictured a romantic ceremony with pine boughs and mistletoe.

She hoped to have a romantic wedding someday, but she hadn’t met the man she’d want to spend her life with. Well, except maybe the man in the corral, but he was out of the question. For the first time, though, she admitted to herself that she wished their circumstances were different.

“A sleigh would be cool,” Tucker said. “And I really am glad Houdini’s going to be a permanent part of the ranch. Until they decided to hire Matthew, they considered selling him.”

“That would have been a shame.” In more ways than one, she thought. Houdini had brought Matthew here.

“They don’t give up on people and animals that easy around here,” Tucker said. “That’s why it’s called the Last Chance.”

“They gave up on Jeff,” one of the other boys said.

“Not exactly,” Tucker said. “You can’t keep a boy around who would throw a rock at a horse. Jeff wasn’t ready to be here. But Pete, I mean, Mr. Beckett, is getting Jeff some help. They haven’t totally given up on Jeff, either.”

“Think he’ll come back?” Gary asked.

“Not this summer. But maybe someday. I’m sure Mr. Beckett will keep track of him.”

“Look!” Gary pointed toward the corral. “Lester’s putting the saddle on Houdini!”

With that, everyone seemed to forget about Jeff as they watched Houdini being saddled for the first time since he’d arrived at the ranch. Matthew stood at his head, holding his bridle and talking to him while Lester kept up a steady stream of conversation as he tightened the cinch. Houdini turned to look at the boy, but otherwise he didn’t seem particularly worried about having the saddle on his back.