Lone Tree (21 page)

“It’s my foot and your printer. You want to give me
the ordering info or not?”

He gave her the info.

*

She hadn’t timed herself, but figured it was around
two and a half hours later that she drove around to his side and found him and
Randy on the porch. Reed’s gaze followed her, then he looked at his watch.

Lainie shook her head at the steering wheel,
released the trunk latch and got out of the car. If he wanted to argue, she’d
tell him they’d tossed the box in as she’d slowed down on a drive-by.

But apparently Reed didn’t want to argue. “Go on
inside and help yourself to something cold,” he told her. “I’ll just be a
minute.”

She stayed put, leaning against the car. That glance
at his watch had commented on her driving habits, but the long look told her he
had more on his mind than the printer. He may not have had time to go shopping,
but she doubted he’d turn down another seduction attempt if the opportunity
arose.

Opening the car door, she turned the key to
auxiliary and lowered the window. Without the air conditioner running, the car
would quickly turn into a hot box.

The conversation ended and Randy tipped his hat to
Lainie as he walked by. She smiled back and walked around to the trunk. She
tilted the box and had it halfway out before Reed reached her.

“Hey, what—” This was clearly not what he’d
intended. But the box was heavy, she already had it, and there was nothing to
do but accept it from her. When he attempted to replace it inside the trunk,
she closed the lid and smiled.

He didn’t smile back. “What’s your hurry?”

“What hurry?” She walked around him to the car door.

“Take time for a cup of coffee, Lainie. Iced tea?
How about that beer?”

At each offer, she shook her head. Her smile
deepened as she turned and looked at him. “No thanks, Reed. See you at supper.”

He exhaled loudly. “You surely are the most
obstinate woman I’ve ever come across.”

“I’m not obstinate. I just don’t have the same thing
on my mind that you do.”

“Oh, yes, you do.”

She pursed her lips as she looked at him, then
decided not to argue a point with as little verity as that one. She got in the
car and closed the door.

“Lainie?”

“Hmm?”

“One of these days, I won’t have my arms filled with
a heavy box, and you won’t be conveniently mounted on a fast horse. What are
you going to do then?”

She reached for the key, still in the ignition.
“I’ll figure something out.”

“Lainie?”

“Hmm?”

“You do understand that having won the right to name
the time and place means that eventually you do have to name a time and a
place.”

She stared at the key, then turned and gave him a
long look. He returned it. “You sure are pushin’ it,” she told him.

“And you’re draggin’.”

She drove away with her light mood gone. Yeah, she
was dragging, had grown into the habit of it, felt weighted with it and was
becoming downright tired of it.

That evening, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped
the towel around her, then worked on her hair with the brush and blow dryer.
Then she gave herself a good look in the mirror. She wasn’t happy with what she
saw, she wasn’t happy with anything. She was out of sorts, on edge, and not
looking forward to the long night. Nor was she looking forward to tomorrow, nor
the next day, nor the day after that.

Doggone that Reed Smith anyway. She had enough on
her plate without him coming along and complicating matters. Dealing with
Miles—or she should say, dealing with her subterfuge regarding Miles—was a
full-time job in itself, yet she seldom gave that a thought anymore. Her mind
was full instead of his foreman, who promised the moon with those sky blue
eyes. Promising, challenging...

In her gut, she knew he was right. She could fight
it as much as she wanted to, but it was going to happen. Eventually. If she
stuck around, it was going to happen.

She closed her eyes and swore softly. Doggone that
Reed Smith anyway. Yes, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. His arms
around her, hers around him, his hands on her, hers on him. And those butterfly
kisses he was so good at, she wanted them all over her. Wherever his lips
wanted to light. Just thinking about it made her—

She snapped her eyes open and stared at the ceiling.

In the same sudden motion she turned from the mirror
and dropped the towel.

At her closet, she scanned what hung there then
chose a simple jumper in lime-green with a square-cut neckline and slipped it
on over her head. She wouldn’t need anything else. Quickly, she slipped her
feet into sandals. If she ran into a snake out there, it was going to have to
take care of itself.

Never having walked between her house and Reed’s
before, she was surprised at how long a walk it was, and was grateful to find
no one else out. She remembered the evening stroll she’d taken the night that
Reed had confronted her, and the conflicting emotions running through her then.
Well, she was through with conflicting emotions.

She knocked on his door without hesitation, but was
aware of anticipation settling here, there, then somewhere else. So, okay,
maybe she’d pushed conflicting emotions aside, but that didn’t mean she
couldn’t still have nerves.

When he opened the door, he didn’t appear surprised
to see her. He looked her up and down, then his gaze settled on her feet.

Her feet, for crying out loud! The man had a fetish.
She wore nothing but a brief jumper and sandals, and he chose to look at her
shoes. She wondered how long it’d take for him to discover she wore nothing
beneath the jumper.

He wasn’t wearing his boots either. Apparently he
didn’t plan on looking for any more snakes tonight. He appeared comfortable and
relaxed in stocking feet, with his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose, exposing
his bare chest. Hairless, she noted, and excellent musculature.

Lainie swallowed past a constriction that had formed
in her throat.

“I think it’s time,” she said when she was through
swallowing. She told herself her state of breathlessness was due to the long
walk over here.

She was certain he understood exactly what she was
proposing, but he displayed neither pleasure nor displeasure. He appeared more
amused than anything else.

“You do, huh?” He leaned against the doorframe and
folded his arms. “And, tell me, have you given any thought to a place?”

So he wanted to play it that way. No problem. She’d
suspected she had the power to disconcert him, too, if she ever wanted to wield
it, and she was looking forward to wielding it.

She closed the distance between them, slipped her
hand inside his shirt, and with her fingertips lightly traced his bare waist
around to his back. His body jerked. She stretched and softly pressed her lips
against his neck.

He muttered something she didn’t catch. One arm went
around her back, the other beneath her knees, and he swept her up. Kicking the
door closed with his foot, he gave it a healthy slam.

He strode fast to his bedroom, twisting just in time
to prevent one end or the other of her from colliding with the doorjamb. When
he stopped at the side of the bed, his Adam’s apple worked as he swallowed, and
their eyes caught and held. Slowly he put her on her feet. She was as much
aware of his control as she was of his heat, need, tension, and his ardor that
wanted to run pell-mell. She wanted to tell him don’t worry about control, go
for pell-mell, but she didn’t have the breath to tell him anything. His hands
cupped her face.

“You’re sure,” he whispered.

“I’m sure.”

She heard the tremble in both their voices, and felt
the physical tremble in him. Which she shared. Without his support, she
wondered if she’d be able to remain upright. He gave her a kiss that started
out deep and got deeper. Her arms wrapped themselves around him like they’d
wanted to for so long. His hands traveled slowly down her back, to her waist,
then her hips.

Then they stilled abruptly, possibly because they’d
encountered no straps or seams. He pulled back, his gaze froze on hers, then he
got her out of the green dress with lightning speed.

Hot urgency snapped them both up with a vengeance.
They silently agreed he wore way too many clothes and she tried to help him out
of them while kicking her shoes off at the same time. One sandal hit the wall,
and she didn’t know what happened to the other one. His second foot got stuck
in his jeans. He staggered, bumped into her, and she was knocked backwards onto
the bed. She bounced, rolled, and barely managed not to fall off the other
side.

How romantic. At her giggle, which was borne more
out of nerves than amusement, he gave her an astonished look. But it didn’t
hold as his gaze quickly left her eyes to roam the length of her. At the heat
of it, she caught her breath. Then, with even greater fervor, he returned to
the job of getting out of the stubborn jeans.

“Oh, wait,” she said. “Do you have—”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” His gaze traveled between the
nightstand and the dresser. “Somewhere.” Hopping on one foot, he reached for
the nightstand. He opened the drawer with too much force and the whole thing
fell to the floor. He found what he wanted, left everything else where it lay,
then continued struggling with the pants leg that didn’t want to let go of his
foot.

Again Lainie laughed. Neither had planned the
evening, but if they’d tried, they couldn’t have written a more unconventional
script. He gave her another look of disbelief. Then his face cleared and slowly
creased into a grin that said,
okay, I could use some help here
. He sat
on the edge of the bed and allowed her to untangle him from his pants. With his
hands now free from the snarl of his jeans, he found something else to do with
them.

Twisting her head, she met his eyes. “If you do
that,” she whispered, “I can’t do this.”

The jeans surrendered and fell to the floor.

Quickly she found herself on her back and his mouth
on hers. No room for languor—hot need had got in its way. And it hadn’t spared
Reed. He was like a coiled spring. She felt his desperate, agonized attempt at
control.

Raising his head, supporting himself on his
forearms, he said, “We’ve waited so long for this. I want to make it last,
but—”

“The faster you do what I want you to do,” she
breathed, “the happier I’ll be.”

He gave her the sexiest, most devastating grin she’d
ever seen, and took her at her word.

*

Having no idea if it was ten minutes later or an
hour and ten minutes later, she drew in a deep breath, stared at the ceiling
and waited for the world to return to its axis. Next to her, his breathing was
as heavy as hers. Heavier.

“Well.” She took another breath. “Well.”

His chuckle was slow and deep. “May take a while for
you to make up your mind, but once you do, you know exactly what you want and
how to get it.”

“Yeah? You’re not exactly a shrinking violet,
yourself.”

She rose onto her elbow and looked down at him. She
kissed him, long and slow and easy. He reciprocated. She drew back and traced
his cheekbone with her fingertips.

“What’s that smile for?” he asked.

“Just thinking how nice it is not to be holding
anything back.”

His teeth flashed in his own quick smile. “I’ll
second that.”

“Where did you get your eyes? From your mom or dad?”
Ah, pillow talk. Maybe not the best part, but a good part nonetheless.

“Neither.” His voice was lazy. “My grandfather. At
least that’s what my grandmother told me.”

“You don’t remember them? Your parents, I mean.”

“Nope. My mother died of pneumonia when I was just a
couple months old. My dad died early, too, but I’ve got vague memories, like
standing at Four Corners with my foot next to his. His was huge, and I wondered
if mine would ever grow that big.”

Her fingers investigated dark beard stubble, aware
of a touch of whisker burn on her face, but not bothered by it. In fact, she
hoped for more contact with that bristle before the night was over.

“Did it?” she asked.

“Probably not. He was big, six feet or more, and my
mom was petite. I’ve got pictures of them. I’m a mixture, got my build from
both of them.”

“Same here, only the other way around. My mom was on
the tall side. I’m shorter and lighter, so I guess my father had to have had a
small stature.”

“You don’t know?”

She grew still. “Well, yes. I saw a picture of him.
He died early, too. My biological father, I mean.”

She relaxed. There wasn’t room for anyone else in
her world right now but Reed. Her hand slipped beneath the sheet. She felt
sated, not cheated—wow, did she not feel cheated—but she’d missed touching and
looking and snuggling and wanted to remedy that.