Winter at Mustang Ridge (20 page)

Opening her eyes, she looked around the room, lingering on the window, where the snow was still drifting down. She stared at the patterns made by the flakes and tested out the thought: Nick was her lover now. It tightened her throat and put a shimmy in her stomach, even though she had thought she was past the nerves. There wasn’t anything to worry about, was there? He understood her, and she thought she understood him.

Like his bedroom. Another woman might see the bed on the floor, the cobbled-together nightstand, and the shelves he was using in place of a dresser, and think that he needed a keeper. She, on the other hand, felt right at home, because it was a pick-up-and-go place. This might be his place, but it wasn’t his home yet. He was just camping out, waiting to see what happened next.

She totally got that.

The door bumped open and Cheesepuff sauntered in, testing the air and pretending he wasn’t checking to see if she was awake.

“Hey, buddy.” She patted the bed. “Come on up.”

Instead, he about-faced and headed back for the door with his upright tail curled at the end like a candy cane. He bumped the door farther open on his way through, letting in the tantalizing smell of coffee and the sounds of good stuff happening in the kitchen, just like home.

Only this wasn’t the ranch, and that definitely wasn’t Gran in the kitchen.

Pulse kicking at the thought of seeing Nick—which was silly, really—Jenny got up, pulled on the borrowed sweats, visited the bathroom to finger brush her teeth and tame her hair to not so angry hedgehog status.

Then, taking a deep breath, she headed out into the kitchen.

“There she is,” Nick said cheerfully from the stove. Wearing baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, he looked comfortable, casual, and just as tasty—if not tastier—than the thick slabs of bacon he was cooking on the front burner. The light angled down on his cheekbones and emphasized his dimples when he smiled, and if she could’ve framed the moment and clicked the shutter, she would’ve called it
Hottie at Home
, or maybe
Beefcake and Bacon
.

“Good morning,” she said, crossing to where Cheese was winding around his legs, begging. Dodging the cat, she got in close enough to smell the soap and shampoo that said Nick had already showered. She started to reach for him—

And stalled.

What now? Should she hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? The lips? She was so used to the friends-with-benefits thing that she didn’t know how to handle something more. Panicking, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Really?
She could just die.

Face lighting, he shook her hand. “Nice to see you, too.”

“Um. Okay, then.” She retrieved her hand. “Glad this isn’t at all awkward.”

He chuckled. “Guess I’m out of practice.”

“It’s not you. I just . . .” She shrugged, not liking how it was going to sound. “I don’t usually stay for breakfast.” And she hadn’t really realized it until just now. “I mean, I’ve had breakfast, you know, the morning after. But with a group, or out.” Not at home, with her dog under the table, licking his chops.

“Chill. I know what you mean. Guess I’ve got another reason to be grateful for the storm.” He turned away from the stove, caught her hips in his hands, and backed her up a couple of steps until she bumped into the opposite counter. Voice going low, to a sexy rasp that woke up her nerve endings and made her think of the things they had done to each other in the darkness, he said, “How about we try this instead?”

The kiss was firm and no nonsense, with a whole lot of full-body press and hands-on action that reminded her what they had been up to for the past eight or nine hours, and suggested they should try some more of it, real soon. But more than that, it centered her, settled her, brought things into perspective.

He lingered at her lips, then leaned in to press his brow to hers. “Better?”

She cupped his jaw, which was roughened with stubble. “Much.” Then she stood on her tiptoes to peer past him. “There’s my French toast! Now it feels like a snow day.”

“Sit.” He nudged her toward the breakfast bar, then placed a coffee mug in front of her. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. You can supervise.”

“That’s no hardship.” In fact, she couldn’t take her eyes off him as he moved around the small space, poking at the sizzling bacon, adding a dusting of sugar to the French toast, and loading a pair of plates.

“Madame’s breakfast,” he said, setting one in front of her, along with utensils and a woven basket holding a stack of paper napkins. “Hope you like your French toast stiff and your bacon limp.”

“There’s a joke in there somewhere.”

He opened his hands away from his body in a come-at-me gesture. “Bring it on.”

“Nah. You’re feeding me. That gets you a pass for most anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He grabbed his own plate, checked both their coffee levels, and then sat beside her at the breakfast bar, angling his stool so their knees bumped. “Dig in.”

“Thanks.” She waited a beat, until he looked over at her and their eyes met once more. “I mean it. Thanks.” For making last night special. For not letting her make this morning weird.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, as easy as breathing. “You’re welcome.”

She was surrounded momentarily by him—his scent, his warmth, the buzz of energy that came with the brush of his lips across her skin. Enjoying the moment and the man, she forked up a fluffy bite of egg-laden bread, dipped it in a pool of syrup, and sampled. “Mmm. Not bad, Doc. In fact, it’s pretty awesome.”

“I can handle breakfast, especially when I’ve got a beautiful woman in my bed.”

“Oh? Does this happen often?” It wasn’t until he eased back that she realized she was venturing toward sticky territory. The kind that was posted with
WARNING, GIRLFRIEND STATUS AHEAD
signs. And that so wasn’t where she had meant to go. “I was teasing, not fishing,” she said quickly, then turned her attention to the window. “It’s still coming down out there, huh?”

And, yes, she was talking about the weather.

His shoulders loosened a notch, though, and he followed her lead. “It’s stickier now. Better for snowballs.”

She lifted a slice of bacon and bit in. “Or a snowman?” Rex, who had been watching the bacon like it was in danger of going extinct, gave a low whine. She grinned down at him. “What was that? You want us to make a snow retriever?”

Nick dimpled. “I think we can handle that.”

“What do you think, Rexy?” When he gave his low, indoor-voice bark, she flipped him her last slice of bacon.

“You’re spoiling him,” Nick said mildly.

“News flash. Your cat’s on the counter.”

“Or for the love of— Cheesepuff, get down!”

They kept it light for the remainder of breakfast, wrangled good-naturedly when she insisted on doing the dishes, and then geared up to venture out into the storm. The phone rang while she was putting on her boots. Nick answered, and almost instantly slipped on an invisible white coat and went into vet mode, saying things like, “Well, some dogs aren’t sensitive to chocolate, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially in a blizzard.”

He stood staring out into the storm as he talked the woman through giving the pooch a slug of Ipecac to clear out his stomach, letting Jenny do some staring of her own. The storm light put faint hollows beneath his strong cheekbones, reminding her of what he had looked like naked in the golden glow of the nightlight. Desire thrummed through her, along with the pleasure of knowing that she had said the right thing just now, done the right thing. Because if he was going to take her the way she was, then she needed to do the same for him.

Turning away, she rummaged through her computer bag, came up with her cell phone, and put in a call to Mustang Ridge. To her surprise, it went through, and her mom picked up with a trilling, “Hel-lo, sweetie. Are you coming home to paint?”

“Um . . .”

“I’m teasing. You stay right where you are until the storm lets up. I’m assuming you’re having fun?”

Ignoring whatever undercurrents might or might not be in the question, Jenny said, “Sure am. How are things there?”

“You know how your father is. He’d rather make a couple of extra passes with the plow than overstress the engine by trying to move the snow all at once.”

In other words, he had escaped the house to play on the tractor. “I was wondering if you could do something for me.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t get a chance to clear the decks in the office yesterday. Could you check the voicemail and emails, and see if anything looks mission critical? I could do it remotely, but it’s a pain.”

“Of course, sweetie. Do I need passwords?”

Jenny talked her through the procedure, made her promise twice to call her or Krista if she had any questions, and rang off. To Rex, she said, “Mom said to give you a biscuit for her, but I think we’ll wait on that for now. Nick is right about the treats, even if it is a snow day.”

“Geez, make me out to be the bad guy, why don’t you?” Nick protested. But he was grinning, leaned hipshot against the breakfast bar. “And did I just hear you giving your mother marching orders?”

“Just a little office work.”

He crossed to her, kissed the top of her head. “Nice job.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You know what
is
a big deal?”

“What’s that?”

He tossed her parka at her. “Snowball fight. Last one out the door is making lunch!”

J
enny didn’t remember the last time she’d had a full-on snow day, the kind that had nothing to do with real life and everything to do with having fun. She and Nick shoveled the snow a little, wrestled in it a lot, and built a snow family complete with a snow retriever. Given the number of calls he fielded while they played—none of them true emergencies, fortunately—it was shaping up to be a busy couple of days when the roads cleared.

Until then, though, it was just the two of them.

After a late lunch of grilled cheese and soup, they cuddled up on the couch and watched a gloriously silly movie while the dog snored at their feet and the cat mooched belly rubs. Then, as the credits rolled, they turned toward each other and kissed. Naturally, easily. Like they were alone in the world with no cares, no complications. Nothing but the two of them.

They kissed on the couch while the snow sifted down and heat spiraled inside her, intensifying with every beat of her heart. They kissed as they walked up the short hallway together, stumbling in their haste to reach the bedroom and skim out of their clothes. And they kissed as she sank into the soft cloud of his mattress.

His skin was hot, his muscles taut, and when she wrapped her legs around him, it felt like the rest of the day had been leading up to this moment.

She moaned and flexed her fingers on his hips as he moved against her, and then again as he entered her. As before, there was a moment of surprise at the tight, perfect fit; another at the sense of rightness. And then he began to thrust, setting an even, controlled pace that said “I can do this for hours.”

Which he more or less had done the night before. But now, in the muted light of day, a new, different urgency raced through her. Levering herself up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, took their next kiss deep, and kept on going up and over, reversing their positions.

He made a low sound of masculine pleasure, eyes gleaming as he looked up at her. “Oh?”

“Yes,” she purred, bowing over him for another kiss. And then she began to ride, slow at first, but quickly gaining tempo and intensity as the heat rose up inside her.

Oh
, she thought, and,
Yes
. She had wanted him like this, the two of them together, the give and take of pleasure. And then he dug his fingertips into her hips, bucked up beneath her to meet the rhythm she had set, and she couldn’t think at all. The sensations overwhelmed her, consumed her, left her unable to do anything but meet him stroke for stroke as passion built. Peaked. Crested.

Jenny shuddered against him, tightened around him, and came. Fingers pressing into her hips, he groaned and followed her over, bucking his hips beneath her and eking out the pleasure all the way to a last long, slow roll that left her boneless, breathless.

Utterly satisfied.

Letting out a moaning breath, she sank down along his body and off to the side, so they cuddled together like a lock and key.

“Oh, baby.” He hugged her close and kissed her brow. “You rock my snowstorm.”

Outside, the day had gone blue-black, but the atmosphere seemed lighter, the flakes finer. She brushed her cheek across his pec. “I’d be okay if it snowed all day tomorrow, too.”

“Or we could pretend we lost power and play hooky.”

“Could we?”

He hesitated, but then shook his head. “Probably not.”

Given what she had overheard of his phone calls, she wasn’t surprised. She was a little startled, though, by the sting of disappointment. “Too bad.” Summoning a grin, she gave him a come-hither eyebrow wiggle. “Guess we’ll have to make good use of tonight.”

“How about we start with what’s left of the grilled cheese? Or we could go old school, with Saltines and fluff.”

“I’ve got plans for that fluff.”

“Oh, really? Hold that thought.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll be right back.”

He sauntered out buck naked, with the animals competing for who would make it through the door first. Rex won by a nose, claws skittering a little on the polished floor.

Jenny snuggled down in the warm bedclothes and dozed. Her mind was like a warm, fuzzy version of the world outside: gentle swirls, soft and undefined, with no details beyond the window.

“Room service.” He swept back in with the food and drink, but without the pets. “Sorry it took so long. My dad called to check in.”

“He okay?”

“Snug as the proverbial bug.”

She looked past him to the empty doorway. “What did you do with our furry friends?”

“I let Rex out and gave them both dinner. I kept it light, figuring they’ve been snacking all day, but they would just bug the bejeebers out of us if they didn’t get something that looked like a meal.”

“Spoken like someone who understands them very well.”

He set out the food and climbed back into bed, bringing cool air with him. “I’ve always understood animals better than people.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She piled a couple of slices of slightly stale cheddar on a cracker, added a sliver of pepperoni, and handed it over. “From where I’m sitting, I’d say you do awfully well with people, too. Not to mention that you’ve got a seriously cute domestic streak.” She held up a small sprig of grapes. “Dinner in bed? That’s hot.”

“You want hot? How about . . .” He produced the tub of marshmallow spread. “I believe madame requested this?”

“Madame most definitely did.” She crooked her finger. “Come over here, and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”

•   •   •

The snow stopped overnight, and—despite Nick’s fervent wish that things would be slow to get back under way—the main roads were clear by late morning. Soon after that, Robbie Peet plowed out the clinic and delivered Jenny’s Jeep. Which unfortunately meant they didn’t have any more excuses.

Still, as Nick waved Jenny off and got a tap of the brake lights and a cheery
beep-beep
in return, he darn well knew he didn’t have anything to complain about. They had gotten two wonderful days together, and while they had just said a lingering good-bye-for-now, they had plans to talk later and hopefully hit a movie. And, well, other things.

He chuckled to himself, heard the rusty sound, and laughed aloud. “Boy, you’ve got it bad.” And he was talking to himself now. But he didn’t care because, well, he had it bad. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say he had it good?

Jenny was . . . Wow. The sex was amazing and the other parts were equally incredible. They thought enough alike to be simpatico, different enough to make things interesting, and he didn’t remember the last time he’d so enjoyed just hanging out with a woman. Or the last time he had wished he worked the kind of job he could blow off to do it some more.

That wasn’t an option, though. She had things to do at Mustang Ridge and he had at least ten appointments to get through, priority clients that had hung on through the storm, but needed some hands-on attention.

“So let’s get this started,” he said, clapping his hands and turning back toward the clinic, where Cheesepuff sat in the window, looking at him like he was nuts for being out there a second longer than absolutely necessary.

Just then, Ruth’s boxy red SUV crested the hill and came toward him with a cheerful
beep-beep
very like the one Jenny had given him just a few minutes earlier. He waited while Ruth parked next to his truck, idly wondering if she would notice the fresh tire marks in the blown-over snow.

She popped out of her car. “Was that Jenny pulling out as I came in?”

Busted
, he thought, but couldn’t do anything but grin. “You know darn well it was.”

“And . . . ?”

“And a gentleman doesn’t talk behind his lady’s back.”

She pouted. “I tell you about my dates.”

“Fine. We ate soup and cocoa, busted out the cheese and crackers Mrs. Donohoe sent, and played board games.”

Misting up a little, she smiled and sighed. “That sounds lovely. Just like the kind of things Charlie and I used to do when we were snowed in. Well, that and boink like bunnies, of course.”

“And we have a Too Much Information buzzer on the play,” Nick announced, holding up his arms like a ref. “Five yard penalty, loss of down. Which means it’s time for us to buckle down and get back to work. Especially since our first appointment is Elvie Peet and Crisco.”

Which, he knew, would change the subject pronto.

Sure enough, Ruth made a face. “She’s going to want to tell me all about her brother, Silas, and how he’d be perfect for me. He’s been happily married for going on forty years and has three grown kids and a bunch of grands, but Elvie’s sure he’ll figure out soon what a witch he married.” She snorted. “She’s the witch, more like. I’d hate to have her as a sister-in-law.”

“You could handle her, one way or the other. And I could always help you hide the body.”

“Awww.” She bumped him with her shoulder as they headed for the clinic. “You’d do that for me?”

“What are friends for?” He bumped her back, glad to have gotten off the other subject.

But as he held open the door for her, she said, “When are you going to see her again?”

“Who, Elvie? She’s probably already on her way. You know she likes to get here early and rip coupons out of the magazines.”

Ruth smacked his arm with the end of her multicolored scarf. “No, doofus. Jenny. When are you going to see Jenny again?”

“Tonight, if things don’t get too hectic here or at Mustang Ridge.” And he was going to do his darnedest to make sure the coast was clear on his end, maybe even lay in some munchies—and some more marshmallow fluff—upstairs in the hopes that they would end up back at his place to play a few more hours of hooky.

“You want some pointers?”

“You want another TMI penalty?”

She made a
pfft
noise in his direction. “If I know one thing, it’s how to have a great date in these parts. I could give you some suggestions. You’re going to have to work to give Jenny a new experience around here, you know.”

Okay, she had a point there. The Steak Lodge had been fun, but he didn’t know if the talking bison would be as cool the second time around. At the same time, he didn’t think he wanted dating advice from someone who had once texted him pictures from a cage fight, declaring it her favorite third date of the year. “Maybe later.”

Giving him a look like he had said the rest of it aloud, she tapped a finger on his chest, right over his heart. “If you want her to stay, you’re going to have to show her that there’s more variety around here than she thinks, and that even the little things can turn into adventures if you’ve got the right attitude.”

“If I . . . Whoa.” He put up both hands like she had just pointed a Taser at him. “Nobody said anything about her staying.”

“She might, though, if you played it right.”

“I don’t want . . . That’s not what’s going on here. We’re just having a good time.”

“Well, isn’t that the point? Why be with someone if you’re not having a good time?”

“There’s a heck of a leap between having a good time with Jenny and asking her to— Look, I appreciate that you want what’s best for me, really I do. But a long-term relationship doesn’t make the cut for me right now, and it’s not on Jenny’s top ten list, either. So do me a favor and be happy for us while it lasts, okay?”

“It’s just . . .” She sighed, shaking her head like he was missing the whole concept of one plus one equals two. “Okay, I’ll butt out.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I said, but thanks. Besides,” he said, watching out the window as a wiry seventysomething climbed slowly out of an all-wheel-drive Subaru that had seen better days, “I’d say you’ve got your own love life to worry about for the next half hour or so. Elvie and Crisco are here.”

Elvie was wearing a pink pom-pom of a wool hat and an insulated canvas trench that fell in folds around her slight body as she opened the rear car door. A pure white West Highland terrier wearing a tartan doggie coat jumped down and did a couple of excited one-eighties at the end of his leash, but then settled down as his mistress began making her arthritic way up the clinic steps, ignoring the wheelchair ramp that ran around the side.

“Repeat after me,” Ruth muttered. “I don’t date married men!”

Taking pity on her, Nick pushed open the door. “Mrs. Peet, welcome! And hello to you, Crisco. How about we go straight back and get started?” He ushered a slightly startled Elvie through the lobby and into Exam One while Ruth beat it in the other direction. To Elvie he said, “Now, last night you said Crisco had vomited a couple of times, and then began refusing food. Has anything changed since then?”

One down, nine to go
, he thought, determined to make the rest of his day fly by. Because quitting time was Jenny time, and that was rapidly becoming his favorite part of the day.

•   •   •

It was ridiculous to feel like she had missed curfew, Jenny decided as she sat in the Jeep, staring at the main house. Not to mention, it was ridiculous for her to sit there replaying the past forty-eight hours in her mind, feeling like some of it was going to disappear the moment she walked through the front door.