Valentine's Cowboy (13 page)

Jonathan nudged her in the side with his elbow, leaning closer to say in a lowered voice, “I’d bet he’s pretty spectacular without clothes on. Am I right, sugar?”

She looked at him, intending to chastise him for talking that way in church. His knowing smile and obvious happiness for her blew away her irritation.

“Absolutely incredible,” she said instead, and she grew wet between her legs all over again, making her squirm on the pew. Which made her once more feel the faint lingering sting from the spoon Sam had briskly applied to her poor bare bottom. She’d thrown the spoon in the trash.

“So I was right. You and Stud Boy have been doing more than arguing.” He looked pleased and concerned at the same time. “I don’t like that he’s upset you. Made you cry.” He reached up to touch the faint bruise under his eye. “I’d take him outside and punch him in his pretty face, except that he’s much better at that kind of thing than I am. And bigger, too.”

The traditional wedding march started and she was grateful for the end of what could be an uncomfortable conversation. Jonathan was definitely right about her and Sam doing much more than arguing, although arguing was at times what they did the most of.

Glancing at Sam as he started up the aisle with Shelby, she saw him wink at her in return. She tingled from her eyelids clear down to her toes. What that man could do to her!

She shifted a little, with the barest of winces, and caught the twinge of amusement in his eyes when he drew closer. Amusement? Because she had trouble sitting? In a moment of madness, she stuck her tongue out at him.

He raised an eyebrow, but grinned and walked proudly on with his sister.

“What was that about?” Jonathan pressed.

“A private matter,” she said curtly and focused on the group gathering at the front now. What would Jonathan think if he knew Sam occasionally took her over his knee and spanked her? Knowing her ex, he’d probably think it kinky. Being spanked by Sam was far from that. Maybe he’d play around with it sometime, but she suspected most spankings he delivered were serious business.

Tears streamed down her pink cheeks when Sam finally had a chance to go to her. Alarm raced through him. He glowered at Jonathan, who quickly scooted out of the pew and mumbled about going to find his “friend.”

“What did he say to you? Am I going to have to punch him again?” Sam bit out.

She snagged his arm to keep him from following her ex. “It was the wedding. Not Jonathan,” she said on a tiny hiccup.

He sat down beside her, confused. “The wedding?”

Her lower lip trembled and she dabbed away the tears. “They’re so beautiful. Filled with such high hopes for a happily-ever-after.” She sniffled and smiled. “They always make me cry.”

He sat back in relief, grumbling, “I hate them.”

The annoyance in his tone had her sitting up stiffly. “Good thing you won’t ever be going through one yourself then.”

She stood, grabbing her purse. “I’m going to walk into the shopping area of Lahaina from here. I need to appease my addiction for wasting money on things I don’t really need. Have a good trip home, because I probably won’t see you again.” She didn’t even look at him as she hurried off.

Sam couldn’t believe how fast Valentine could move on those high heels. She was almost out the door, and had almost plowed down the bride and groom being pelted by rice in her hurry to leave. He was nearly out of breath and patience by the time he caught up with her. “You can be the most aggravating woman at times.”

She tried to dodge around him, but he refused to allow it. “Why? Because I don’t agree with you? Again?”

He rolled his eyes and then waved off his sister, who had started to head in their direction on seeing them arguing. “I’ve been told just this morning I can be a tad opinionated.”

She snorted, but stopped trying to race away from him. The woman sure had a quick temper, something he might have to help her work on in the future. His gaze darted to her bottom and she sucked in a breath, clearly fighting to not send her hands flying back to protect it. As if he’d dare to give her a spanking right here in front of everyone.

He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, saying quietly before he straightened, “That’s only done in private, darlin’.”

Her face flamed and she looked anxiously around. Only his sister continued to watch them. She was smiling.

“I wish you wouldn’t talk about, or even hint about sp… about it in public,” Valentine protested.

He chuckled, and then pulled her into his embrace. “You’re so damn adorable when you get all flustered about me—”

She shot a hand up to cover his mouth before he could say “spank you.” “And you’re just so damn irritating sometimes.” Yet she didn’t try to move away again. Actually she settled in closer, close enough to make him start to grow hard.

It was him who eased back, giving her a weak frown. “Now you’re being naughty. You know what happens when you misbehave.”

She grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him well away from the crowd, who was ignoring them anyway. “Public, remember? Jeez, you make me crazy.”

He couldn’t help grinning. He felt so dang happy that she was still speaking to him, after he’d evidently said something to tick her off. Their history with that sort of thing wasn’t good. “I didn’t mean to say something that would send you racing away from me. I just don’t like all the hassle of weddings.”

When she finally stopped with him around the side of the church and they were completely alone, she launched herself into his arms, much like when they’d first met. He curled his arms around her and savored the pleasure of holding her. He wasn’t sure what had caused this reaction, but damn if he didn’t like it.

He stroked her silky hair, then her back. And felt his erection make itself boldly known.

“Can we skip the reception?” she questioned, sounding breathless. “Since we’re on somewhat speaking terms, I’d like to pursue this notion of my being naughty a little further.”

“I suppose Shelby won’t miss us,” he said, huskiness making his voice raw. He scooped her into his arms and hurried toward his rental Jeep, practically throwing her inside. When he slid onto the driver’s seat, he looked at Valentine and knew he’d want this little romance therapist forever. He just didn’t know how to go about convincing her of that.

“Exactly what did you have in mind?” he questioned, cranking the engine on and squealing out of the parking lot.

She reached over and squeezed his rock hard cock through the slacks. As she massaged it and he struggled to keep his mind on the road—thank the Lord there wasn’t much traffic, she said, “I was thinking of sliding my tongue over…”

He jerked his gaze sideways and groaned at the torture she was applying. Sweet torture. “You’re in trouble now, darlin’.”

Squeezing him again, she asked, “Good trouble?”

“Damn yes!”

* * *

The sun had slipped away with a brilliant orange fanfare that they’d watched from the beach. After what she could only call a wild session of very naughty play, they’d made love with a desperation that bordered on frightening. Then they’d showered and strolled hand-in-hand down to the beach. Very little had been said by either of them in the last hour. Valentine was afraid if she attempted to speak, she’d instead burst into tears. He would be leaving in a few hours. She didn’t want their final hours together to be unhappy ones.

A soft breeze swept by them, fluttering her gauzy, heel-length skirt around her. She smiled as she felt the stirrings of arousal all over again from just being near Sam. “I feel so deliciously sinful.” She glanced up at him, grinning in a sensual tease. “I don’t have panties on. Not even a thong.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Damn, darlin’. What a thing to tell a man!”

“I know I’m being kind of pushy here, but do you think we’ve got time for… Well, for one last romp in your bed.” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

“Can you run in that long skirt?” Without waiting for her response, he turned to pull her along with him.

She was breathless by the time they ran up the stairs and started into his condo. “I had my doubts when I started here, but this has been a wonderful vacation. I’m going to miss Maui.” As he faced her, she blinked away tears. “I’m going to miss you, cowboy.”

He pulled her into the hallway and closed the door. He didn’t say a word, just started peeling off her clothes. When she stood before him naked, he bent down to start kissing her navel, then kissed his way down to her throbbing clit. As he took it gently between his teeth, she moaned and frantically grabbed his head, pulling him closer. “Oh Sam! Ohhhhhhh Sam!”

His hands urged her legs apart and as she leaned back against the door, he slid his tongue between her lower lips. She quivered all over, curling her hands into his thick hair. “I-I…I need… Oh, Sam, I need…” His tongue darted inside her, twirling, swirling, diving, driving her desire higher and higher. “Saaammmm!”

Within moments he’d taken her to an amazing orgasm and left her barely more than a pool of contented woman lying on the tiled hallway in his condo. She gazed dazedly up at him as he pulled off his shoes, his suit, his shirt, his socks. She wanted him so bad that she felt she just might die if he didn’t drive that long, thick cock inside her pretty soon. He still hadn’t said a word, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want him to even mention anything about good-bye. She wanted him to thoroughly love her one last time.

Two hours later she stood on the stairway and watched him drive away. It was for the best, she tried to tell herself. They’d had a good time together. Much more than a good time. But it had only been a brief time out for both of them. Now it was time to return to reality.

A tear dripped off her cheek. Reality sure sucked sometimes.

Chapter Seven

It had been the longest damn month of Sam’s life. Everything had changed, and yet the most important thing hadn’t. He loved Valentine Hart even more today than when he’d left her that awful night in January.

As he drove down the unfamiliar Kansas road, he thought about how he’d heard her wisdom in his head as he’d calmly talked with Shelby and Dale about the ranch. For once he hadn’t been blinded by his almost irrational need to make sure the Thompson Ranch stayed wholly within the family. Now that he’d mulled over his memories of his folks, he knew they would have wanted their children to be happy. Besides, they had looked on Jake as part of the family most of his life. And Shelby had been thrilled with Jake’s offer. Even more thrilled when she realized her brother had finally seen the error of his stubborn ways and had agreed to “think outside the box”—as Jake kept telling him he needed to do. The real credit for him making this decision went to a sassy, but wise, romance therapist.

He hadn’t spoken to Valentine since leaving Maui. But she’d been in his heart and thoughts every waking and sleeping moment. He hoped like hell she wouldn’t slam the door in his face when he showed up out of the blue like this. Well, out of the blue except for the little gifts he’d been sending her this last week. Anonymous gifts. He’d wanted to give them to her, but he felt kind of foolish. He wasn’t normally the sappy, romantic kind of guy. She’d probably tossed them all in the trash. Probably thought some sort of nutcase was harassing her.

Shit. He should have signed his stupid name to at least one of them
!

* * *

Valentine was bone-deep tired from all the remodeling work she’d supervised and helped with these last three weeks. She’d found this little B&B near Manhattan, Kansas over the Internet while still in Maui. Everything about it had called to her. Including the ridiculous idea that maybe if she were somewhere near Sam, she might run into him sometime. It hadn’t happened yet and she’d started to become a bit depressed about that.

Until last week. The first week in February.

She stood behind the front desk of the newly remodeled Valentine Inn and smiled thoughtfully. In her entire life she’d only received a few valentines. And she’d always hated being teased about her name, especially around Valentine’s Day. But valentines had started arriving daily last week. Valentine cards, boxes of valentine candy, goofy valentine stuffed animals that sang, and even yesterday she’d received a huge valentine bouquet of red roses. There’d been no cards with any of the gifts. No outward hints of who might have sent them.

An outrageous red lobster, which she’d secretly named Sam, wearing a straw hat and a lei sat on the corner of the desk. He was her absolute favorite gift. She reached over to press the button on one of his claws to have him sing the “Hot, hot, hot” song for possibly the hundredth time since he’d arrived. It always made her smile. And remember.

“Not again,” moaned Aaron, Jonathan’s significant other, from across the room where he was hanging a new clock over the fireplace.

“He’s cute,” she protested in defense. “Feeling hot, hot, hot. Ole, ole. Ole, ole. Everybody now,” she sang along, adding a snappy little dance that had Aaron rolling his eyes but smiling indulgently.

When the Sam The Lobster’s song ended, she played it one more time purely out of mischief. Her not-so-silent partners, Jonathan and Aaron, had wanted her to get rid of it. They’d wanted her to get rid of each of the valentine gifts, worried about who’d sent them. They’d been certain the items had come from some lunatic stalker. Possibly a twisted serial killer who liked to play on women’s sentimental feelings. But she’d refused to throw them away, especially the lobster. And the rest of the various gifts were now safely in her room at the back of the inn.

As the Lobster’s song ended and she contemplated playing it one more time just because it had lightened her mood, Jonathan walked in the front door. He shivered and so did she when a blast of wintry cold air swept around him and through the entire lobby area.

“Why didn’t we buy a B&B in Maui?” he asked not expecting a reply, since he asked hat nearly every time he walked inside.

Merely the mention of Maui brought back the depression she’d been dealing with this morning. She’d loved Maui. Actually, she’d fallen in love in Maui. But sometimes simply thinking about the island made her want to fling herself on her bed and have a good long cry. A pouting time, as Sam would have called it. Sam. Why hadn’t the big, stupid cowboy called her? Shelby had told her he’d asked about her numerous times. He knew she’d returned to Kansas and bought a B&B. If he asked about her so much, why didn’t he call? Okay, she could have called him, but he had been the one to leave first. They were quite a pair, both stubborn to the core.