Reckless Heart (16 page)

“Come eat out on the porch, Molly. The evening’s warm and there’s no wind tonight.”

She hesitated. It would be safer in her room. Did she want to beard the lion once more before the day ended?

“Molly?” The voice beguiled, entreated.

Or was it her imagination? He sounded as he always did.

“Okay.” She turned and went out onto the porch. Josh held the door for her. “Did you eat?” she asked as she sat down carefully in a rocker.

“A while ago. I got a sandwich, too. My sister fixed a big meal at lunch.”

“That’s where you were today?”

So he hadn’t been with Gillian. For no reason at all, she felt a small weight lift from her shoulders.

“I went into Texarkana to see her and her new husband.”

“The man you told to stay away from her,” Molly clarified.

“Yeah. Only that was before they were married. Obviously he didn’t listen to me.”

“Are they happy?”

“Very. An afternoon around them is all I can take,” Josh said wryly.

He didn’t begrudge his sister her happiness. He just no longer expected the same thing for himself.

She nibbled on her sandwich knowing he had once thought to be happily married by now to Jeannie. No wonder he didn’t want to be around his sister. It must hurt.

She felt it sometimes herself. She'd once thought she'd be married by now. While she sometimes envied other people their happiness, she tried to remain patient. Someday love might come. And if not, at least she had her writing.

“And your brother's married, too, isn’t he?” she asked as the silence grew.

“Yes. To a little bit of a woman who has him wrapped completely around her little finger. He’s crazy about her. Even gave up the rodeo circuit for her once they were married. Though not until he won a belt buckle he's extraordinarily proud of.”

“That’s nice.” Molly smiled. She wished she could find a man to wrap around her little finger. Someone who would want to please her all the time.

“Jase seems to like it.”

“But you wouldn’t?”

“Probably not.”

“Do they visit the ranch a lot? Didn’t you say you all own it jointly?”

“We do. Jase and Shannon come by in the fall. If they attend some of the home football games at the university, they'll come over and stay the rest of the weekend here. Brianna comes most summers for a few weeks. I don’t know her plans for this summer. She and Jake just got married a couple of months ago.”

“Even though they have ownership interest, you really run the place, don’t you?”

“Are you interested in me as a man, Molly, or as the hero for your book?” he asked suddenly.

She almost choked on a bit of tuna. “My book?” Dread and alarm reared up.

“I read it while you were upstairs.”

“You read my book?” She threw the rest of the sandwich on the plate. “You had no business reading my manuscript. It’s a long way from finished and I don’t want anyone reading it until it is.”

“Too late, I read it. I’m not sure I like the hero.”

“Isn’t that why you’re writing it, for others to read?” Josh asked.

“Not before it's finished. There's a lot of work to be done on it. This is just a first draft.”

He shrugged. “You left the computer on. I read the display.”

“Next time exercise a little control and stay away from my computer!” Molly bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to know more.

“How did you like it?” she asked, at last. Her first critic. She held her breath waiting for him to reply.

Josh hesitated.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” she moaned. Darn, she knew it wasn’t ready to submit, but was it so bad he couldn’t find anything positive to say?

“It’s a bit wooden. As if you don’t know how to describe the characters so they show depth. And the scene where he kisses her is bland.”

“I just haven’t reached my stride yet,” she mumbled, disappointed he hadn’t liked what she’d done so far. “And it's only a first draft.”

“Come on.” Josh stood up and held open the screen door.

“Where?” Molly rose and entered the house. His hand at the small of her back guided her down the hall to the office.

Josh snapped on the light and led her to her computer. Taking the plate from her, he put it on his desk. Pressing on her shoulders, he sat her in the chair, reaching across her to flip on her computer.

“Bring up the kiss scene,” he said, drawing another chair closer and sitting beside her.

Her face warm with heat, Molly complied, her eyes scanning the words. Bland and boring and not at all like what she wanted to portray. Not at all like the pictures in her head. Why couldn’t she get it right?

“Now, look this way,” he said.

She turned obediently.

Josh smiled at her and cupped her chin. Lightly brushing his lips across hers, he pulled back and looked at her.

“How was that?”

“Fine.”

“No, how do you feel?”

Her heart pounded as if she had run a race, her chin tingled from his touch, her eyes were dazzled by the sight of him. She used all her willpower to keep her hands gripping the arms of the chair. She wanted to reach out for him, hold him tightly against her and drown in his kisses.

“Breathless?” she asked.

He cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “Write that down.”

“What?”

“Write down the kiss and what you feel.”

He released her chin and sat back, watching her.

Conscious of his gaze, Molly turned to the computer and tried to capture the feelings of that brief touch of his lips against hers and the riot of sensations it caused. Her fingers felt clumsy. She kept hitting the wrong keys, but gradually she tapped out the words that closely mirrored how she felt from his kiss.

“Next one,” Josh said.

“Next one what?” She turned to look over her shoulder.

“Next kiss.” He turned her to face him and lowered his mouth to hers. Gently moving against her lips, he teased her, drawing his tongue along the seam, nipping gently at her lower lip when she opened to him. All too soon he sat back, a satisfied expression gleaming in his eyes.

“Write how you feel.”

Molly stared at the screen unable to think. Slowly her fingers began to type the words that tried to express the heat that simmered in her veins, the yearning for more that filled her being; the delightful awareness, the increased sensitivity being with Josh generated.

Finally the words came to a halt.

“Next one.”

She took a deep breath. Anticipation bubbled through her like fine wine. How many more kisses would there be? If each got more erotic, she'd be so dazed she wouldn’t be able to type. Eagerly she swiveled her chair and gazed up at him.

“Next one,” she confirmed.

He studied her for a long moment. The heat in his eyes ignited her. She watched as his hands came up to slowly thread through her silky hair. When he tilted her head back and took in the length of her neck, her jawline, the answering fire in her eyes, Molly grew impatient. She wanted more. Slowly Josh drew her even closer for his kiss. His breath mingled with hers as he held his lips scant millimeters from hers.

“Josh,” she entreated.

“Anticipation adds spice,” he murmured, touching his tongue to the corner of her mouth.

Molly tried to lean closer, but his hands held her exactly where he wanted her.

“Not yet.”

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands coming up to clasp around his wrist, tugging him closer.

“You always smell like roses. Is it your hair, or your body, or the essence of you?” he asked, skimming hot kisses along her jaw.

She moaned softly and closed her eyes to better savor the exquisite delights that sparkled through her.

“Are you taking note of every feeling so you can put it in your book?” he asked as his lips touched hers.

Before she could reply, he deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and searching the warmth he found with his tongue.

Molly lost track of time and place and self, absorbed by the fiery heat that built from his mouth to hers. Her body ached for his touch. His hands gently kneading her scalp weren’t enough. She wanted to feel him against her, revel in the pleasure her body took from his. To know the differences between them that his hard frame suggested when pressed against her softer one.

“Write about that,” he said, breathing erratically.

Molly shook her head, but it did nothing to clear the spinning sensation. She glanced at the computer screen, then back at Josh. Half rising, she moved from her chair to his lap and encircled his neck with her arms.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said, trailing kisses along his cheek, feeling the rough abrasion of his day-old whiskers.

“I could no more type a word than I could ride a bronc right now.”

Her mouth moved to his and she delighted when he pulled her tightly against his chest and resumed their kiss.

He kissed her neck, licking the pulse point at its base. Moving one hand to the front, he slowly began to unfasten her buttons.

One hand threaded through his thick hair while the other mimicked his as she began to release the buttons on his shirt.

His mouth claimed hers again and again. When Molly felt the cool night air on her skin, she knew she was losing her shirt. Josh moved to unfasten her bra.

“No.”

She sat up and held her hand across her breasts. Blinking in the light, she stared at him, uncertainty evident in her eyes. His shirt hung halfway off his shoulder, opened to the waist. His bronzed skin shone in the lamplight. And her eyes dropped to gaze on the tantalizing expanse of masculine chest.

“Just this, no more,” he urged, his fingers releasing the fastening and drawing the bra down her arms. Slowly Molly moved her hand and let him toss the scrap of lace and silk across the room. He took her hands and drew them away from her body while he looked at her. Then, so slowly she hardly knew she moved, he drew her to him. Breast to chest, soft to hard, warmth to heat.

“You’re a pretty lady, Molly Forrester,” he whispered in her ear, his hands caressing the strong muscles of her back.

“You are a gorgeous, sexy cowboy, Josh Hart,” she replied, relishing the sensations that poured through her. She felt every inch of him pressed against her, could even feel the pounding of his heart beneath her breast. She tightened her arms, wanting to be even closer, wanting to be a part of him.

“Remember how you feel for your book,” he said.

“I’ll remember.”

But not for the book, for herself. She would never forget how wonderful everything felt. How right she felt in his lap, moving her body against his, learning more of what it meant to be a woman. There was no one like Josh in the world, and she loved it.

Loved him.

For a moment, she caught her breath—stilled like a doe caught in headlights. No wonder she liked his kisses, liked having him touch her. She loved him!

And she wanted more. She wanted to learn all he had to teach her. And show him how much she loved him.

When he deepened the kiss, she responded fully. Imprinting every single nuance to the embrace, she knew she would never forget the night as long as she lived.

When he moved to kiss her shoulder, she smiled, relishing the tingling sensation his mouth made against her skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, her heart so full.

He reacted as if she’d thrown cold water on him. He sat up and gripped her upper arms, pushing her away from him until he could see her clearly.

“What did you say?”

His voice was cool, his eyes narrowed.

Molly stared at him, startled at his response. “I love you,” she faltered.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t confuse sex with love,” he said, his hands biting into her arms.

“I’m not. I think I’ve been falling in love with you since I got here.”

“I don’t believe this. You said you came here to work, not make a play for me.”

“I’m not making a play for you,” she said firmly. “I’m not making any demands on you.”

“The hell you’re not. It starts with words of love, then ends up demanding everything a man has. I told you there was nothing but physical attraction between us. Don’t try to glorify it into some grand love that will last forever. If you can’t handle it, just say so, but don’t wrap it up in pretty words to assuage your conscience.”

He stood up, dumping her on her feet, waiting only until she had her balance before releasing her to pace across the room.

He turned and glared at her. “I'm not buying it.”

“What?” Suddenly conscious of her state of undress, Molly looked around for her shirt. She snatched it up from the floor and shrugged into it, fastening the buttons to gain a modicum of modesty.

Her heart hurt, it pounded so hard.

She felt a bit sick.