Scout's Honor (16 page)

She put her thoughts aside as he finished
drying the last of the dishes and turned to face her.

“You’d better get a jacket before we go out
to the property,” he said, flipping the towel over his shoulder and
leaning back against the counter. “The heater in the truck doesn’t
work. We’ll come back for your stuff if you decide to stay out
there.”

Doubt was written all over his face, and
Anna realized she much preferred his light teasing to the cynical
countenance she was facing now. Cynicism was her forte, not
Mitch’s.

With a short whistle he directed Cam out the
door. “Well meet you in the truck,” he said.

She watched as he shrugged into a denim
jacket and settled a gray cowboy hat on his head before walking out
the door. A mental rundown of the contents of her suitcase
confirmed that she’d forgotten to bring a coat. Her normally
efficient packing system must have gotten fouled up by the
expediency of leaving Nassau. She wanted to blame Mitch. He was
obviously angry with her, and in self-defense she held him
responsible for her lack of appropriate outerwear.

His leather jacket hung on a hook by the
door, and in a huff she decided it would do just fine. She slipped
her arms into the sleeves, but when she tried to zip it up she
discovered the zipper was broken. Typical, she thought, shaking her
head as her anger dissipated. Untied shoes, holes in the pockets,
and broken zippers. The man needed someone to look after him.

Mitch’s truck looked even less reliable than
Peter’s. The teenager’s had been merely beat-up. Mitch’s must have
been the last survivor of a stock-car derby. Every panel sported a
dent and every dent supported a ring of rust. There wasn’t a handle
on the outside of the passenger door, and she waited as Mitch
jimmied it from the inside.

The tightness of her jeans made it
impossible to make the giant step up into the cab gracefully. She
weighed her options and discarded the running jump as too risky.
Climbing hand over fist was the best plan. With one hand gripping
the dash and the other dug into the bench seat, she maneuvered the
tip of a boot onto the floor of the cab. Her eyes were level with
Mitch’s thigh, and she was thankful she couldn’t see the crooked
grin she was sure
went
with his low chuckle. She didn’t know what in the hell a truck was
doing this far off the ground to begin with. Talk about hotshot.
She’d show him.

She braced herself for the launch that would
land her in the frayed vinyl seat. As her left boot pushed off the
ground, her right one slipped, wedging tightly into the corner
between the floor and the door. She gasped and grabbed for Mitch’s
thigh. She sprawled across the seat, one leg dangling in the air,
the other trapped in the corner. The situation was absurd, it was
embarrassing, and Mitch’s chuckle had turned into a full-blown
laugh. His enjoyment burned her cheeks in a scarlet flush.

“I can’t move my foot,” she snapped, wishing
she’d tried the running jump or another pair of pants.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Mitch crooned,
scooting over and pulling her across his lap. He reached down and
freed her boot.

She pushed herself up, and his arms slipped
around her waist. With his help she found herself sitting in his
lap, face-to-face with his crooked grin and twinkling brown
eyes.

“Never been in a truck before, huh?”

She glared at him, refusing to answer his
stupid question.

“I like your jacket,” he continued, holding
her firmly in his arms, not letting her wiggle away.

She gave him the most lethal stare, daring
him to comment further.

“I like you, Anna.” His voice lowered, along
with his mouth, as he kissed the corner of her tightly drawn lips.
“I’m glad you’re here, even if it’s only for a week.”

The trail of kisses soothed away her
embarrassment, softening her anger despite her best intentions, and
when he returned to her mouth he found her lips slightly parted. He
deepened the kiss, spreading his legs and letting her drop between
his thighs. The intimate contact melted the last of her resistance
as he pulled her tightly against him. She met the gentle searchings
of his mouth with her own, slowly giving and taking, carefully
exploring each level of awakened excitement. And with Mitch’s
kisses there were whole worlds to explore.

She broke off the kiss, laying her head on
his shoulder as he wrapped her in his arms.

“What are you going to do with me, Anna
Lange?” he whispered in her ear.

Anna was at a loss to answer his question,
so she spoke the only truth she knew. “I don’t know, scout.”

The dirt road followed the river, winding
under the cottonwoods. They were a quarter of a mile from the main
house when Mitch pulled off the road and drove through a swath in
the meadow. He stopped next to the first in a line of cabins
stretched along the bank.

Quaint, Anna thought, her gaze taking in the
rustic log cabin, with its rough-hewn porch. Dried stalks of wild
flowers were tossed gently by the autumn breeze, giving the cabin
an abandoned look. She swallowed her doubts and forced herself to
give her new property a chance.

Mitch leaned across her and jimmied the door
open before he jumped out his side of the pickup. His silence
unnerved her. She knew he hadn’t liked her answer to his question.
She wasn’t crazy about it herself. No one had ever accused her of
being wishy-washy, but her feelings for Mitch denied all reason.
They went beyond the lines of commitment she’d drawn for herself,
and she was afraid to cross them.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever known. He
didn’t fit into her world and she didn’t fit into his. She knew she
wasn’t naïve enough to believe that love conquers all, and she
didn’t want to start something she knew she’d have to end. That
path led to heartache, a heavy price for a moment’s passion, a few
days of delusion.

She ticked off her logical points one by
one, until he was standing by her door and she was looking straight
at him. His smile was missing and his eyes were full of regretful
acceptance.
Better to let me go now, scout,
she thought.
Before the glamour fades. Before your honesty finds me
wanting.

The truth hurt, but Anna knew it was for his
own good. Mitch deserved someone natural and free, someone who
could love his mountains as much as he did, someone to iron his
shirts and fix his zippers, someone to wash his dishes. Anna
couldn’t measure up in his world. He had let her have control,
hadn’t pushed her, and she would play the game by her rules, making
the best decisions for him . . . no matter how much it hurt. The
fewer memories the better.

She plastered a false smile on her face and
held onto his shoulder as she got out of the cab. “Looks a little
worse for wear, doesn’t it?” She gestured at the cabin, adding
lightness to her voice she was far from feeling.

“It keeps the rain out,” he replied,
dropping his hands from her waist and shoving them in his
pockets.

She had an uneasy feeling that he’d read her
mind, that once again he had seen right through her. She followed
him to the door and waited while he fiddled with the padlock.

“I wouldn’t think you’d get many burglars
out here,” she said in an attempt at idle conversation.

“It’s not for burglars.” He pulled the lock
off and gave the door a kick, loosening it from the jamb. “It’s to
keep the bears out. Doesn’t always work, but you do the best you
can.”

“Bears?” She cast a glance over her shoulder
and sidled closer to him.

“Yeah, the damn bears.” A definite note of
danger ran through his words, and Anna knew it wasn’t the bears he
was angry with.

He stepped inside the cabin and immediately
pushed open the red-and-white checkered curtains. “Pretty hokey,
huh?” he said, giving them a flip.

“I think they’re nice. They look—”

“I bet,” he said with a sneer. “You could
always have some silk ones imported from Paris.”

“Mitch . . .” she pleaded.

“Maybe wall-to-wall carpeting, so your feet
don’t have to touch a cold floor in the morning, the way we mere
mortals do. It looked as if St. John had a few hundred extra
chandeliers hanging around. I’m sure he’d send you a couple. And
this piece of junk . . .” He kicked the bed. “You could get
yourself a real fancy one, with satin sheets.” He faced her, and as
storm clouds gathered in his eyes, his jaw tightened. “I don’t know
who in the hell you want to share it with, but it damn sure looks
like it isn’t me.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch.” The words were a
whisper. Her arms hung limply at her sides.

“You’re sorry? I’m the sorry one. One sorry
son of a bitch. You hit me, like a ton of bricks, lady. I thought
you could be mine.” He leveled a steely glare at her, his mouth
twisting in a wry grimace. “I thought you could be mine. What a
fool.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked
quietly, hating the question, hating the pain knifing through her
heart.

“Leave?” He stared at her long and hard,
then slowly started walking toward her. “No, Anna. I don’t want you
to leave. I want you to stay.” His voice softened with every step.
“In my house, in my bed, in my arms.” He reached out and ran his
hand under her hair, pulling her head closer. “I want you forever.
I want you today. I want you now . . .” The last was whispered
against her mouth.

His other hand slid under her shirt in a
sweeping caress, seeking the swell of her breasts. His mouth
covered hers with a burning need, slashing across her lips. An
answering shaft of desire shot through her. If he hadn’t touched
her, if he hadn’t kissed her, she could have walked away. Could
have left with only the memories of what might have been.

His tongue plundered the sweet mystery of
her mouth, running along the curve of her lips and thrusting into
the farthest recesses, sending shock waves of passion coursing
through her body. Every motion cried out for a response. Every
movement was the act of a man with nothing left to lose. His thumb
played across the peak of her breast, and she melted in his
arms.

“Feel how much I love you,” he murmured. He
lifted her hand and rested it on his fiercely pounding heart, then
slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed her hand farther down. His mouth
nuzzled her neck, his husky voice whispered in her ear, as he held
her hand against the tightening fly of his jeans. “Feel how much I
want you.”

She picked up his rhythm, completely drawn
into the undertow of his love, his needs, his promise. His low
groan mingled with her sigh, turning her into fire. Both of his
hands slipped under her shirt, his fingers sliding inside the
waistband of her jeans, releasing the snap, lowering the zipper,
pushing them over her hips.

“Don’t stop, Anna.” He found her mouth again
as she hesitated, showing her with his tongue the path their bodies
would take. As her hand found the top button on his fly, the word
yes
echoed against her lips. She undid the last button,
knowing there was no turning back. She would take the chance and
pay the price. She wanted him, wanted desperately to share his
love, if only for a day.

“Love me,” she whispered, her mouth tracing
the angle of his jaw, her breath blowing in his ear. “Love me.
Mitch.”

Her hands glided inside his jeans, releasing
him to the fullness of her touch. He pressed against her before he
lifted her arms around his neck and cupped her bottom, pulling her
into the cradle of his hips.

“Oh, I’m going to love you, Anna.” His eyes
were languid with the heat of passion, darkened with desire. “I’m
going to love you like
you’ve never
been loved before.”

He pushed her shirt
up over her breasts, then lowered his mouth to one peak. He teased
with his tongue, gently nipped with his teeth. She sank onto the
bed as he guided her there, his mouth trailing lazily down the
front of her body. He caressed the gentle swell of her breast,
kneading the satiny skin before running his tongue down the curve
of her hip and farther. An erotic stroke between her thighs was
followed by another, and another . . . and another, until her every
breath sent shudders of exquisite pleasure to the apex of her
femininity.

He pulled off her boots and let his mouth
follow the trail of her jeans as he tugged them down and off
. After pulling off
his own boots and shucking out of his jeans,
he settled his body between her legs, kissing the corner of her
mouth and the nape of her neck.

Her hand slid inside his shirt and ran down
his chest, releasing each pearly snap until his bare skin warmed
her breasts. Rolling his shoulders, he slipped out of his shirt,
then pulled her shirt
over her head.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling his
mouth back to hers. She kissed him breathlessly, desperately,
matching his need with her own. The scent and feel of him banished
reality, took her to a place she’d never been. A thousand
sensations came alive under his touch, each one deepening the ache
of emptiness only he could fill.

He rocked against her, starting a primal
rhythm pounding through her veins. “Look at me, Anna.” His hands
held each side of her face, his thumbs brushing across her
brow.

She opened her eyes and drowned in the
liquid heat of his gaze. “Mitch . . .” she gasped on a yearning
sigh.

“Shh . . .” His finger trailed across her
lips. Then he entered her, slowly, watching pleasure suffuse the
delicate contours of her face. He dropped his head to her shoulder,
his sandy-brown hair falling against her cheek as he expelled his
breath in a heavy groan against her skin.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, pulling
the shadows from the cabin the way his loving pulled the shadows
from her heart. Muscles, hard to the feel yet soft to the touch,
contracted beneath her exploring hands. Emotions swirled in an
ever-increasing spiral of wonderment and discovery until they were
both lost in this world and the universe rained on them in a shower
of stars.