The Bride Wore Denim (25 page)

Laughter rose helplessly, and he moved to a chair covered in clothing. For some reason the disorder thrilled him. His eyes lit on a scrap of black lace and he bent over. With one finger he lifted the bra off its pile and dangled it like a prize.

“Now this is the kind of messy room I like. Am I learning something about the real Harper Crockett?”

He fully expected her to snatch the bra from him and stuff it away; he almost looked forward to her discomfiture. The surprises, however, kept coming.

“I’m afraid so. I’m a pathetic slob.” She pulled the blankets and comforter carelessly up to cover the bed, which didn’t make it look that much neater. “And that’s one of my favorites. Don’t be stretching it out.”

His mouth went slightly dry. “Do tell.” He could definitely do a fantastic job of stretching it out given the right circumstances. “I’m not sure this is a safe location for a boy like me.”

She approached him slowly and ran one finger up the front of his sweater. “Oh, I think you’re old enough to learn about the world, Cole. It’s a girl’s room. It’s just a bra. Most of us wear one.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and lowered his mouth. The bra dropped to the floor behind her back. “Okay, then it’s you who aren’t safe with me in the room.”

“That I believe.”

“Harper, are you all right?” He grinned. “Or is this what Chicago does to you?”

She rested against his lips for a moment. He shivered when her hands threaded under his arms and clasped behind his back.

“I am totally confused and happy that you’re here. I know I’m acting crazy, but that’s how I’ve felt since I left the ranch.”

“That might be the most awesome thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“That’s pretty sad.”

“It’s not. It means you miss us.”

“Not ‘us.’ I miss you.”

“Nope, I’m incidental. You miss Wyoming.”

“Say you’ll move here, and I’ll prove it has nothing to do with Wyoming.”

“Okay.”

Her eyes filled with the light of disbelief, and she disengaged from their embrace. “Really?”

“Harpo, I’ve decided I’ll follow you anywhere. That’s really why I’m here.”

“You aren’t on your way somewhere? You aren’t here to give me news?”

“I’m here to take you for pizza and then to bed.”

He’d done it, rendered her speechless, and he grinned like a fool. He certainly wasn’t here to force her. He hadn’t even meant to say those words. But the spark of desire behind her surprise almost chased away his desire for food.

When she found her voice she used it coyly for the first time. “Well then. With that much to fit in, we’d better get a move on to that pizza place.”

S
HE COULDN’T STOP
staring at him.

Their conversation covered the most mundane subjects, but the way his lips moved around the words, interspersed with sexy bites of Gino’s East deep dish pizza, made cows, dogs, beef prices, and pasture rotation the most scintillating topics ever to be discussed in public.

He’d asked her if she was all right, and now she knew the answer—she wasn’t. His unexpected appearance had shattered every resolve she’d made about being with him, long distance or otherwise. The sense of perfect peace that settled more deeply into her cells the longer they sat astonished her, and the longing for every ordinary ranch activity he mentioned took her totally aback. Here she was, in the heart of one of the biggest cultural centers in the world, and all she could think about was missing out on watching Skylar’s little border collie learn how to herd cows.

“Are you even listening?” Cole’s amusement only sent his lips into an even sexier upward curve.

“I’m watching you,” she replied honestly, propping her chin in one palm.

“All well and good, but I asked if you want another glass of wine.”

She laughed. “Oh. Sorry.”

“So do you?”

“No. Thanks, but you might take advantage of me if I get any loopier.”

“I might anyway.”

Heat in her cheeks had become a familiar sensation over the course of the evening. In fact, he could raise the temperature in her entire body with the most unexpected lines. She’d given up trying to anticipate when those lines might come and why they could be the most ordinary of subjects. She loved the easy conversation. They discussed things the way they might have rehashed an ordinary day as a long-married couple—

Her thoughts ground to a halt.

Married?

The word had never once come into her thoughts, and suddenly she found herself wondering if she
could
ever marry this man. The notion was insane. And yet part of her believed if he asked her right this minute she’d say yes.

Ridiculous. She’d already enumerated the problems with simply being a couple. Marriage would be like diving purposely into a pool of quicksand. His hands slipped up over the backs of hers and pulled her again into the present.

“Can you come back home for Christmas?” he asked.

Memories from childhood Christmases flooded her and she smiled. The one time when every sister had been equal in the eyes of Santa, and by extension their parents, had always been the heart of the year. It had been the only time her father took multiple days off from all but basic barn chores. Three days—and the hands and their families had all gotten the same time off. Times of actual fun.

“I’d like to,” she said.

“Your mom will be home in a week. Joely might be able to come for a visit by then.”

“How is she really?”

“No sugarcoating, honey. She’s in rough shape,” he said, serious for one of the first times. “Physically, she’ll be okay in the long run, although nobody knows if she’ll get back the use of her left leg. Her biggest problem right now, though, is severe depression. Nobody can really get her to talk about anything since she learned about the loss of her horse in the accident.”

“I hurt so badly for her. I try to call her most days, but she can’t talk for long.”

“Well, keep it up no matter how hard it is. She needs those calls. And if you can tell her you’ll be home in six weeks or so and you want to see her up and about, maybe she’ll have some incentive.”

A twinge of guilt settled on her. She shouldn’t be discussing the seriousness of Joely’s condition yet thinking only how she wanted to crawl right over the table and the pizza to wrap herself around Cole’s body. How crass was that? But his mix of hard sexiness and soft caring was suddenly irresistible. To make it worse, his hands on hers shot tingles up her arms.

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s just going to take time.”

“How’d you get to be so nice?”

“Am I?” He grinned.

“Sometimes.”

“What am I the rest of the time?”

“Irritatingly attractive.”

His brows lifted and waggled like Groucho Marx. “Here’s to irritating the hell out of you, Harper Lee.”

“Y
OU HARDLY EVER
see this.” Harper leaned against Cole on a bench in a cold, clear park located on three dark blocks outside the city center. She laid her head on his shoulder and pointed between tree tops to the patch of night sky and the pinpricks of starlight so difficult to spot beneath Chicago’s overpowering glow.

“Rare as the northern lights in Texas.” He stroked her cheek with one finger, reaching across their bodies to do so and enveloping her in warmth and shivers at the same time.

“You’re bothering me,” she murmured.

“I was bound to since you wanted to walk to the hotel.”

“Buses are much slower going. It’s only six blocks.”

“And you wanted to stop here.”

“Because you noticed the stars.” She smiled into the dark.

Without warning he pushed her upright and then pulled her around on the bench until he could tug her leg over his lap. She crawled onto him.

“Now I’m really going to bother you,” he said and stopped any reply with a hard, deep kiss.

Her body awoke fully. Liquid heat rushed to the spot where she pressed against him, and a hard shaft of desire drove straight up between her legs and into her stomach. He pressed upward and doubled the shots of pleasure.

“I admit it,” she said against his lips. “I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be. C’mon, Harpo. Let go of the silly sister code and believe—”

She pressed her finger to his lips. “Amelia told me to get over myself.”

“She did?”

“She told me to grab you and run.”

His dopey grin almost made her laugh. “I always knew she was intelligent,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk about Amelia.”

“Okay. Why are you afraid?”

“Because even if this isn’t the old Harper resurfacing, the one who’s only looking for acceptance, it’s a new Harper who’ll like this too much. I still don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone again.”

He kissed her in answer, thoroughly, a little punishingly, as if to brand her with something she couldn’t lose no matter where he went. When he stopped he held her cheeks firmly between warm, firm hands.

“One step at a time. Step one was proving I can get to you, like this, anytime I want to.”

“What’s step two?”

“Proving we work together.”

She rocked against him and moaned as pleasure radiated from her center, enveloping her senses, intensifying, and heating her blood until there was no such thing as a cold park bench or the chance of being discovered. No such thing as fear. Cole was right: one step at a time. He moved beneath her, hard and perfectly matched to her body. Her breath hitched and released as every nerve fiber vibrated, and she knew two more strokes, maybe one, would push her over the edge.

“Like this.” His breath, hot and literally steamy, melted into her ear. “And, baby, if you’re ready to start right here, I’m with you.”

“I’m not. Ready.” She forced herself to rise from his lap and take his hand. The October night air, crisp and invigorating, temporarily cooled the heat in her body.

“Harper.” He groaned and stood with her.

“No. No, I’m not running this time. I just see step two as something completely different. You almost proved three seconds ago how well you and I are going to work together.” Step two is execution. And I’m not wasting my first time in a spot, however beautiful, where I can’t have you all to myself. I’m not sharing you with the cold.”

“Or that guy over there.” Cole pointed at a man in a flap-eared cap shuffling down the path.

She sputtered and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. Cole’s chuckle rolled into a belly laugh, and he pulled her to his side, wrapping her with both arms and making her hurry the rest of the way to the hotel.

F
IFTEEN MINUTES LATER
Harper drew open the drapes in Cole’s room on the twenty-seventh floor and stared at the neon city, now spread at their feet. The pewter sheen of Lake Michigan glistened straight ahead of them. The whole scene glittered like the stars in the park.

“This is a beautiful room.”

“Not anywhere near as expensive as it looks,” he said. “Midweek, one of those hotel-finder sites.”

“That’s my economical cowboy.”

He appeared behind her, reflected in the dark window like a dream lover.

“Am I? Yours?” His arms encircled her from behind, and his fingers laced over her stomach—not dreamlike at all but solid and thrilling.

“Pretty sure. Do you see anyone else in the room who’d take you?”

She watched his reflection again, as he bent his head and placed his lips at the side of her reflection’s neck. The hot, throaty chuckle that filled her real ear and, the soft, exploring lips that touched her skin against her throat sent chills lancing through her body. The ethereal picture of them in the glass juxtaposed with the physical sensations on her body tantalized like a sensual optical illusion. The magic set her aflame. She watched herself sink on wobbly knees deeper into his hold before she closed her eyes and spun from the vision into the reality of his embrace.

“For a minute I thought you were my imagination,” she said, opening her eyes again. “Thank the good Lord you’re not.”

“Believe me, I’m not. Let me get rid of that ghost for you.”

He strode quickly across the room, flicked off the light, and the room went dark, until the city outside the window sent its glittering play of lights upward and turned the darkness to soft shadows. He returned and their reflections in the window were gone. All they could see were the diamond-bright lights of Chicago.

The time of languorous build-up had passed. Every fiber of Harper’s body begged for him, and the heat from the park flared anew. She pushed his fleece-lined jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. Her boring gray wool car coat followed his to the floor.

Feverishly she worked the buttons on his dress shirt through their holes. As soon as the shirt hung open, he followed her lead, making short work of her sweater by slipping it over her head with a flourish.

His shirt and T-shirt hit the carpeting. Her bra took the ride as well.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered when they stood skin to skin clad only in jeans and shoes. “Harper, you’re so—” He cut himself off by leaning sideways and dipping his head to her breast. She gasped in delight at the scrape of his teeth and the wet heat of his tongue circling first one tip and then the other. He didn’t hurry nor did he linger, as if his mission was to carefully but quickly lay the fuse that would bring a final implosion to all the perfect places.

He sank to his knees and reached her navel with his kisses. She giggled and then shivered violently as he worked the button and zipper of the jeans she’d worn in honor of his visit. He turned her in place, and she could see out the window again while he worked the jeans halfway down her hips and reached around her to slip a long, hard-fingered hand down the soft part of her belly and beneath the waistband of her panties. Farther and deeper he sought heat, and found it. She moaned at the first explosive shudder from his intimate touch.

“No, please, I want to do this together!” She wasn’t above begging.

“Hush,” he replied softly. He pressed up against her from the back, pushing her into his oh-so-talented fingers. “We are together, I promise. This might be more for me than it is for you.”

“Not possible.”

“Yes. Oh, yes it is. Are you ready?”

Colors burst as the full explosion hit first in one special spot and then spread like seismic waves along every nerve and into every bone and muscle. His hand moved and the aftershocks slammed her—brilliant, strength sapping, and exquisite.

“No,” she whispered when she could form the sound. “That was all for me. Sorry.”

She opened her eyes and for a moment the world in front of her was nothing but neon fairy lights. Then she was in Cole’s arms and the lights faded away, replaced by the beautiful shadowed planes of his face. She rubbed his cheek. “Thanks for that, cowboy.”

He snorted a laugh and nuzzled the palm of her hand. “Never thank me for that, honey. Then I’d have to thank you. We’d be thanking each other all night and there’s too much left to do to waste time jabbering.’ ”

“Such a practical cowboy,” she murmured, her pulse finally coming back down from the stratosphere.

C
OLE SCOOPED
H
ARPER
into his arms and let her feet touch the floor only long enough so he could throw back the bedspread on the California King and drag down the neatly tucked sheets. He dug into his pocket and tossed two foil packets on the table beside the bed. His body ached and begged him to hurry, but he forced himself to show the last vestiges of restraint and dregs of chivalry by cradling Harper once more in his arms and setting her gently in the middle of the bed.

She weighed nothing in his arms, and she still vibrated like a guitar string, with a note that belonged only to him. “Together,” she’d said. Leave it to her to want that rather than pleasure for herself. He’d almost felt guilty because all he’d wanted was to feel her fall apart in his arms. Like some macho caveman who could force the girl to tremble.

He’d gotten his fantasy and then some.

But his body wasn’t impressed. It wanted more.

“Okay, mister, now it’s my turn.” Her voice startled him, and her soft smile sent a bolt of anticipation through his stomach and deep into the base of his spine. “I know you like denim, but there’s far too much of it between us.”

He nearly lost it then and there when she set to work on his fly button, resting her hands on the aching length of his hard-on, tracing the zipper before she found the tab. The rasping of the metal teeth was nearly the sound of his undoing.

She literally stood up on the mattress then and balanced on first on leg then the other while she removed her soft, chic, city boots and then wriggled out of her jeans. His eyes went wide, and his throat went dry when she stood there with nothing on but the scrap of silk that he’d already invaded once.

It took her no time to sit back down, pull off his boots and socks, and then direct him to rid himself of his jeans. If he’d thought for a minute she was going to be a timid or reticent lover, she dispelled that notion the moment he lay open to her admiring eyes.

“That is nothing less than impressive, cowboy,” she said, and took the foil packet from the bedside table herself. When she’d taken care of it and him, she slid her body up the length of his. She locked their kiss and drove her tongue deep into his mouth, searching and stroking, mimicking intimately what his body so badly needed.

He pulled her against him and groaned in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But this isn’t going to be all soft and slow and romance-y.”

“I’m counting on that.”

He flipped them effortlessly and bracketed her head with his hands, arching above her. “Tell me if you’re not ready.”

She adjusted beneath him and wrapped his hips with her legs. “I’m more than ready.”

Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as he slipped into her, and she moaned through a smile of pleasure. He sank deeper and groaned at the perfect fit of her around him and the pure fulfillment simply being one with her brought.

The satisfaction lasted three seconds. Then she moved and quiet pleasure disintegrated.

For several giddy, uncoordinated strokes they looked for a rhythm—new lovers unfamiliar with each other’s likes. But what could have been awkward became a sensual game of discovery under Harper’s patient humor and skillful movements. One moment they struggled, the next they soared into a synchronization that took them far past exploration.

Three strokes, four, and Cole was thrown over the brink, his breath lost, his awareness gone, his body quaking with release. From far below, a gentle, feminine cry followed him into space, or wherever he’d come to ride out the waves of pleasure. Harper. With utter satisfaction he knew this had been her moment, too.

S
HE LAY CURLED
in his arms, the last of her emotional tears dried, the power that had blasted her into another orgasm dissipated, and the sense of safety and warmth wrapping her like a cocoon.

“I was right,” she said. “I’ll never survive you leaving.”

“Aww, you will.” He laughed. “You got me roped and hog-tied, too, and you don’t hear me whining.” He squeezed her tightly.

“Oh, that’s real romantic.”

“Purebred lady killer. That’s me.”

“And we call you a cowboy poet. Brother. Give him a little lovin’ and the romance flies out the window. So, now what?”

“Now you give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll show you romance.”

“Only fifteen? After what you just did to me?
I
won’t be ready that fast.”

“Sweetheart.” He pulled from their embrace with a snort. “Know what? I’m going to start right now proving you don’t know yourself.”

His lips found the hollow beneath her ear and used it as the quivering starting point for an inexorable journey back down her body. He started on the way back up when a wailing version of “Folsom Prison Blues” made them both nearly jump from each other’s arms. Cole’s eyes flew open and every ounce of languor drained from their shadowed blue depths.

“That’s Leif,” he said, worry immediately replacing sleepy sex in his voice. “It’s nearly eleven here. He wouldn’t call at any time much less now unless something was wrong.”

Harper’s pulse danced with fear, and she let him sit, biting her lip at the sight of his muscled seat as he rolled from the bed to find the phone in his jeans pocket.

“Leif?” he answered. When he spoke a minute later his voice sent cold chills through Harper’s heart. “Oh shit, Leif, are you sure? Where have you looked?”

“What?” she asked drawing up behind him and pressing her cheek to his back.

He took one of the hands she had snaked beneath his arms and patted it. “Look, I’m with Harper now. Let me talk to her and see if she has any ideas. I’ll call you back in five minutes, okay? . . . Yes I will. Don’t worry, we’ll find her. Talk to you in a few.”

He punched the soft keys on his phone and spun in Harper’s arms.

“What’s wrong?”