Montana Hero (21 page)

Flynn frowned. He could see Kat and Brady here, but since that wasn’t going to happen… “You think the place is too much for me. You’re probably right. I’ll keep looking.”

Ryker slugged him again, less playfully. “You dork. I think the house is perfect for you. Buy it. Today. But I think you’re kidding yourself if you think Kat Robinson is merely an employee. I know you, bro, and I know when you’re in love.”

“I can’t be in love with a woman who has one foot out the door. And in case you’ve forgotten, I already got burned by a woman with a secret agenda. We both know Darla only married me for my money. Once she bled me dry, she admitted she’d never stopped loving her old boyfriend.”

“Olaf?”

“Odin.”

“Oh. I’ve got Frozen on the brain.” Ryker shook his head. “But you’re right about Darla. I told you she was just like Mom.”

Flynn didn’t intend to get into an argument over whether or not their mother was an opportunistic parasite or a victim of her times. He kept his reply generic, but he meant what he said. “It’s a miracle either one of us dared fall in love after growing up with our parents’ screwed-up relationship as a model.”

“True,” Ryker said, nodding sagely. “But I’m living proof love does work when it works. Twice.” He held up two fingers in a peace sign. His grin made Flynn smile, too. Who couldn’t be happy for someone who embraced life with such wholehearted passion?

“I’m happier than I ever imagined I could be, Flynn. I just want this same
joie de vivre
for you, man. I really hope Kat’s the one.”

The one?
The one poised to leave before they could figure out how amazing things could be between them.

Ryker’s phone made a ding-dong sound. “Damn. I forgot. Mia and I have an appointment.”

He looked down, focusing all his attention on slipping his camera back into its case. Flynn knew his younger brother too well.
He’s got a secret.

“What kind of appointment?”

Ryker shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“I’m your brother. You were the first person I called when Darla asked for a divorce.”

Ryker’s expression looked both excited and worried. “This is completely hush-hush. Not a word to anyone—even Kat. Promise?”

No worries there, Flynn thought. “Of course.”

“Meg volunteered to be a surrogate for me and Mia.”

“As in having your baby?”

Ryker nodded. Like the little kid he could sometimes become, Flynn’s brother shared the somewhat unbelievable gesture of selflessness that was supposedly taking place as they spoke.

“Meg’s thirty-nine, but she’s been getting in shape to have a baby for the last year.”

“A baby of her own.”

Ryker nodded. “Yes. But then she met Hank and fell in love with him and his grandkids. He got fixed years ago and told Meg upfront he was done having babies. Raising his late daughter’s four kids was it for him.”

Flynn had heard bits and pieces of Henry Firestone’s helicopter crash and subsequent rescue last Christmas. Meg Zabrinski had become a bit of a legend in the SAR world. “So, they’re married, now, and she gets to satisfy her desire to have a child by giving birth to yours and Mia’s?”

“Exactly,” Ryker exclaimed. “Meg passed all the pre-tests with flying colors. I held up my end of the bargain. No problem.” He made a jerking off motion. “Mia’s doctor thawed a few of the eggs he’d harvested before her hysterectomy. Today’s our first sonogram. I made them wait until I got back. But even if everything looks perfect, Meg doesn’t want us to tell anyone until after she passes the first trimester.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.” He quickly locked the house and walked to his brother to give him a hug. “I get to be an uncle. I can’t wait.”

Ryker smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate your support. And I’m really glad you’re living here, now. Between the wedding, the new house and a new baby, I feel a lot better knowing my big brother is here.”

“Always.”

They did the manly squeeze thing then headed toward Flynn’s truck. “And I know there’s no connection between this baby and what happened in France, but a part of me is freaking out. Mia keeps telling me to stay focused on the present. What happens happens.”

“So they say,” Flynn murmured. The same might be true of his relationship with Kat.

But one thing he knew for certain was nothing would happen between them if he sat back and continued to let Kat call the shots. Just as he hadn’t been able to stop himself from trying to rescue the old lady and her horses, Flynn wasn’t the kind of person who passively let the world burn around him.

They’d played by Kat’s rules long enough. If they were going to have a relationship, they needed to be together. Period.

Starting today.

*

Kat was in
the basement of her building transferring a load of sheets from the washer to the dryer when Flynn’s text arrived.

Need to talk. Your place in thirty.

She read it twice before tossing in a dryer sheet and setting the controls. She jabbed the start button with a little attitude.

Interpreting the tone of a text was a waste of time, she knew, but Flynn, her boss, came across as careful, polite and agreeable. This text had bossy overtones.

I guess so. What’s up?

She dumped the rest of the dirty clothes into the washer and added the detergent before his answer dinged.

Just bought a house.

Her phone actually shook in her palm before she forced her fingers to close around it. A thousand or so responses flitted through her head at once.

Really? Already? You just moved here. I’ve been here over a year and I don’t have a house.

She couldn’t think like that. She’d made no effort to move here permanently because she didn’t know if she and Brady would be welcome here. She’d told herself a million times that the Zabrinskis didn’t
own
Marietta, Montana. They were one family of many. She could probably live here happily without ever—or, at least, rarely—bumping into them.

She slammed the lid of the washer, tucked the plastic laundry basket with her name on it in the corner and then started back upstairs. She pulled her phone out of the hip pocket of her grubby washday jeans and called Robby’s house to check on Brady who had been gone all day. The boys had a full day of Minecraft planned. Kat wanted to give him some space after a tough week of waiting to hear back from the Zabrinskis. She owed him that, but she missed him, too.

As she passed the lobby door she noticed a bank of dark gray clouds crawling over the mountains. The trees—still weeks away from leafing out completely—appeared to be bent over slightly from the wind. “What a crummy day to buy a house,” she murmured as her phone call was picked up by Marilee’s answering machine.

“Hi, you’ve found me, but apparently my phone is not attached to my hip as most people think. Please leave your number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I find the darn thing.”

Kat chuckled. She understood completely. Marilee might be changing the baby while the phone was hidden under a pile of toys in the family room. “Hi. It’s me, Kat. Just checking in with the boys. If my son becomes a pest, give me a jingle and I’ll come pick him up. If not, I’ll see you at four.”

That was the time Marilee’s email said. Or rather
for
, Kat thought. Kat knew it was petty of her to judge a busy mom for her spelling, plus, given the vagaries of most people’s cell phone’s auto-correct, who knew?

She jogged up the stairs rather than use the elevator and arrived at her door slightly out of breath. What little breath she did have left disappeared the instant she spotted Flynn Bensen lounging a few steps away.

He looked like one of those cutout cowboy silhouettes people leaned up against barns. Sexy, untamed, a little dangerous—and she wanted him badly. Her low middle tightened, her breasts went heavy and her libido kicked into overdrive.

“Hey, cowboy, aren’t you supposed to be signing papers at your realtor’s?”

“Already did. She talked me into offering a slightly lower bid because the house has been on the market for a few weeks with no interest. She’ll text me when she hears something.”

He pushed off from the wall and walked to her, his gaze never leaving hers. “Where’s Brady?”

“At a friend’s.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Enough.”

A grin tweaked the corner of his mouth before he lowered his head to kiss her. One arm snaked behind her back to pull her close. Close enough to feel his hardness. Close enough to taste his need, which matched hers. Who was she kidding? She had the hots for this man like she’d never had the hots for anyone else—even her ex. Flynn did things to her that made the weight of her burdens evaporate for a few minutes. She craved him.

She threw her arms around his neck and gave her attention to the kiss. Only the hum and hiss of the nearby elevator reminded her where she was. “Inside?”

“Uh-huh.”

The look in his eyes told her he was focused on another meaning of the word. A squiggle of desire did the cha-cha between her hipbones and lower. This wasn’t going to be pretty—and that worked for her.

After flipping the dead bolt lock and taking a quick peek to reassure herself Brady hadn’t come home while she was in the laundry room, she reached for his belt buckle. “My house, my call,” she said, when she looked up and saw his bemused expression. “Fast and now.”

He didn’t need further instruction. One quick tug and her sloppy T-shirt went flying. Her sports bra took a little extra effort, but Flynn didn’t let it slow him down. She wriggled out of her jeans without his help. But when she saw him bend over to take off his heavy, laced-up hiking boots, she stopped him.

“Come here. I have an idea.”

She took his hand and led him to her gray leather couch with its wide padded arms. “What do you think—?”

“I like it,” he said, turning her around so her back was flush to his front.

He bent his head to nibble on her neck as he cupped her breasts. His tanned hands and calloused fingers were a strangely erotic contrast to her soft white flesh. Through hooded eyes she watched his fingers squeeze and release, his fingertips pulled the super-sensitive tips in a way that made her bare hips grind against his open fly.

His right hand dropped to cover her pubic mound, his middle finger probing inward. He made contact with her highly charged clitoris and she let out a low cry as she worked her hips around and around.

The energy built in her core but it wasn’t enough. “I need the real thing,” she said, dropping forward to brace her hands on the arm of the sofa. “Now. Please.”

He did what he had to do to get free of his clothing and sheath himself in protection. Was he carrying these in his pocket now, she wondered? Just in case?

Good man,
she thought, closing her eyes to savor every blessed inch of him.
Very good man.

The climb, the build-up, the rush, and the release lasted longer than she expected. At the peak of her orgasm she couldn’t think for the explosion of colors in her mind. She let go and soaked it up, shouldering his weight when his legs quivered from the effort. She loved what he made her feel. She loved…him.

She eased back to standing and reached for her T-shirt, which had landed on the sofa. She cleaned up enough and handed it to him. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I have to pick up Brady in a few minutes. Do you mind waiting?”

She needed the time and space to get her head back on straight. She wasn’t in love. That wasn’t going to happen. Even if things worked out with the Zabrinskis and she and Brady felt welcome to stay in Marietta, she wouldn’t let someone as wonderful as Flynn chain himself to a wife who wouldn’t be around for their happily-ever-after. He deserved a hell of a lot more.

‡

F
lynn flopped on
the sofa, fully dressed but still turned on and feeling every bit of their lovemaking. God, what that woman did to him. He couldn’t put the jumble of emotions in order, but he could name them: desire, need, anguish, pain, joy, love and a few so new and interesting he didn’t recognize them.