Hawk's Way Grooms (26 page)

A second later she was shoved up hard against the barn door with Jake's hips grinding against her own. His tongue was in her mouth taking what he wanted, and she was so full of sharp, exciting sensations that she couldn't breathe.

Just as suddenly he backed off, leaving her with Jell-O knees that wanted to buckle, a heart that was threatening to explode and her insides tied up tight, hurting and wanting. “Jake,” she said. It was a cry of emotional pain. A plea for surcease from her unrequited need.

“I'm twice your age,” he said flatly. “You're too damn young for me, Hope.”

“You want me,” she said boldly.

It would have been hard to deny. His jeans bulged with abundant evidence of his desire. “I'm a grown man. Old enough to know better,” he said with a disgusted sigh. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, but only so he could tuck his shirt back in. He buttoned his shirt, buckled his belt and adjusted his clothes, then leaned down and picked up her shirt. “Put this on,” he said.

She did as she was told. She hadn't gotten what she'd expected when she'd come in here with Jake. But she'd gotten what she wanted. Proof that he desired her. Proof that if she pushed long enough and hard enough, she might convince him that she was what he needed.

Her hands were shaking too much for her to tie a knot in the shirttails.

“I'll do it,” he said, pushing her hands out of the way.

Her stomach quivered as his knuckles brushed against her flesh. She glanced up and saw the feral look was back in his eyes. He yanked the knot tight and stepped back.

“Now get the hell out of here!” he snarled.

Hope yanked open the barn door and ran.

“R
ISE AND SHINE, LAZYBONES
,” C
OLT
said with a laugh as he pulled the covers off Jenny.

She rolled over, then sat up and stared. He'd done it again. Brought her breakfast in bed. The first time he'd arrived unannounced it had provided a few awkward moments, since all she'd been wearing was one of Randy's old T-shirts, the cotton so thin it provided a revealing display of her suddenly peaked nipples.

That incident had led to the first of a dozen silly gifts Colt had given her over the past two weeks.

“If you're really into men's clothes, I thought you'd appreciate these,” he'd said when he presented her with a pair of navy blue men's cotton pajamas.

A set of flower-patterned china cups and saucers had come next. “You need to see something beautiful when you wake up each morning. I've got you,” he'd said, making her blush with pleasure, “but I thought you might like these.”

One morning she'd stepped outside the kitchen door and discovered the entire back porch was lined with hanging baskets of pink and white impatiens. “I owe you some flowers,” he'd said. “For all the times I never brought you any.”

What he meant, of course, was for all the times Huck had never brought her any.

While Colt settled the breakfast tray in her lap, Jenny fingered the solitary diamond that hung on a fragile gold chain around her neck. Colt had given her the necklace last night after Randy had gone to bed, when they were alone in the living room.

“I noticed you're still wearing Huck's ring,” he'd said. “But I wanted to give you a diamond. I hope this is all right.”

After he clasped the necklace around her throat, she'd reached up to touch the dimensions of the stone, to test the fragility of the chain.

An inexplicable feeling of panic had forced her off the couch and across the room to the fireplace. She'd watched the flames lick at the dry wood they'd gathered together that afternoon and fought the urge to cry.

“What's wrong?” he asked, sensing her distress. He didn't follow her. He waited for her to return on her own.

She twisted the diamond ring on her finger, adjusting it, reminding herself of its presence as she had done for ten long years. Huck's ring had been the one visible proof that they were engaged, that he intended to come back to her. Now Colt had laid his claim, slipping a chain—a delicate one to be sure—around her neck, when he had no more intention of staying with her than Huck had.

The hot tears came without warning, filling her eyes and spilling over. Colt crossed to her then, anxious and concerned. He pulled her into his arms, and she felt his lips kissing away the tears as he murmured words of comfort.

“It doesn't mean anything, Jenny. I don't expect you to love me the way you loved Huck,” he said. “It's just a gift. Something from me to you. Be happy, Jenny. Please.”

That made her cry all the harder, because it would have been very easy to fall in love with Colt. It was hard not to appreciate a man whose every thought was directed toward making your life easier. But, damn it, she didn't want to fall in love with another man who intended to leave her behind while he went off to fly jets. Especially not someone who was only taking care of her as a duty to his dead friend.

A certain ticking clock reminded Jenny that moments like this had to be seized and enjoyed.

She brushed at Colt's sideburns, which were already growing out, then eased her thumb across the scar on his chin where the stitches had been removed, unable to stop herself from touching him. “I'm crying because I'm happy, Colt. That's all.”

He looked deep into her eyes, searching for the truth.

It was the truth. At that moment she was happy. She'd learned a long time ago, as the child of a dying mother, to relish every day for the pleasures it brought her. That lesson was standing her in good stead now.

She saw the lingering doubt in Colt's eyes and did the only thing she thought might convince him she was pleased with the gift—and with him. She kissed him gently on the mouth.

She'd had some inkling in advance of how powerful her response might be. Yet, she was surprised again. This kiss was different—more devastating—than the ones that had come before, because there was no guilt to dampen pleasure. This kiss was a celebration of joy, of delight in the man who held her in his arms. Passion rose quickly and flared hot.

Tentatively, her hands went seeking, feeling the ropey muscles in Colt's shoulders and sliding down his strong back. His hands weren't idle, and she gasped as his palm closed on her breast. The sensation was exquisite because it was so unexpected. Huck had touched her breasts many times before, but it had never felt like this. Jenny sought for the difference and found it. There was reverence in Colt's touch, along with the hunger.

He'd already eased her shirt off and was reaching for the front clasp of her bra when she suddenly came to her senses and realized what might happen if she took this next step with him.

“Colt, no.”

His mouth nuzzled the curve of her breast above her bra, and she nearly swooned before she finally grasped his hand to stop him.

“Not yet,” she pleaded. “I'm not ready. Not yet.”

She heard his shuddering breath, felt the tautness in his shoulders as he brought himself back from the brink. He kissed her gently on the mouth, his tongue teasing her lips until she relented and let him come inside.

To soothe, to taste, to caress.

It was the kind of kiss they might have shared as teenagers in the back seat of his Mustang, when he knew they couldn't go all the way. Deep and rich and thorough. It was lovemaking without the sex.

And she appreciated him all the more for it.

She heard a moan from deep in his throat, a grating sound of both satisfaction and the need for more, before he finally broke the kiss. When she met Colt's eyes, she saw that the fire had been banked, but it wouldn't take much to fan it back into flames. He was leaving the choice up to her. She knew she had to back away, because it was clear he wouldn't—or couldn't.

For a moment last night Jenny had thought about trusting Colt with her secret. Fear had held her back. Once he knew, he would leave for sure. She wanted to hold on to him for as long as she could.

“Good night, Colt,” she said as she backed away.

He'd reached down and picked up her shirt, and she'd flushed as she realized she'd forgotten completely about it. He' given her a lopsided smile and said, “Good night, Jenny. I—” He'd cut himself off, swallowed hard and said, “I'll see you in the morning.”

And here he was with breakfast on a tray, fresh from the shower, with eyes that crinkled at the corners with laughter…and her heart on his plate.

“You're going to spoil me, Colt,” she said as she held the tray steady and scooted back against the headboard.

“You deserve a little coddling.” He settled on the edge of the bed by her knees and grabbed a slice of cinnamon raisin toast slathered in butter.

Jenny picked up a flowered china cup, blew on the steaming coffee, then sipped carefully, grateful for the caffeine. She wasn't quite sure how to act after what had happened between them last night and decided to let Colt set the tone.

Colt was trying to act nonchalant, when that was the last thing he was feeling. He'd been buying Jenny little gifts ever since he'd realized how few of them she'd gotten in her life. He'd given her the diamond last night as a symbol of his love and commitment and as a first step toward asking for that same love and commitment from her.

The wary look in Jenny's eyes reminded him not to push too hard or too fast. But he couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out. His leave was more than half over, and their wedding day was rapidly approaching. Then he happened to glance at Jenny's left hand.

“Where's Huck's ring?”

“I took it off,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

He watched her reach with her thumb to rub the empty spot where the ring used to be. His chest ached with hope and with fear. Maybe there was a chance for the two of them after all. He opened his mouth to speak, but she spoke first.

“Don't forget Randy's graduation ceremony is tonight,” she said. “I promised him we'd go out to dinner first.”

“I won't be late.”

“Randy asked if he could bring a date to dinner,” she said with a smile.

“Anybody I know?” Colt asked.

“Faith Butler.”

Colt's jaw dropped. “
Faith
Butler? Not Hope?”

“Faith,” Jenny repeated with a grin. “I couldn't believe it myself. Seems they've been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

“Good for Randy. You've done a fantastic job raising him, Jenny. A great job raising all of them.” He took a deep breath and plunged. “But it's time you started thinking of yourself.”

“What does that mean?” Jenny asked, her eyes cautious.

“Just what I said. Why don't you sell this place and come see the world with me?”

“Colt, you promised—”

He grabbed the tray from her lap and threw it onto the dresser hard enough to make the china cup and saucer rattle, then turned to confront her. “I can't leave you here alone, Jenny. I'd worry too much about you.”

“Then stay,” she said simply.

He shoved both hands through his short hair, leaving it standing on end. “I'm considering that option.”

Her eyes went wide. “You are? What's stopping you?”

He wanted to tell her the truth. That he didn't think he could stand waking up every morning to a wife who was in love with another man. He'd grow to hate her and himself. It was easier to go away—to stay away.

He was afraid to read too much into the fact she'd taken off Huck's ring. It might simply be that it evoked too many painful memories for her to wear it.

And that kiss last night?

Mere gratitude for the gift he'd given her. It was getting harder and harder to conceal his true feelings, but he wasn't about to let Jenny know he loved her when he had no hope of having that love returned.

“I'd like to stay Jenny,” he said quietly. “But you're Huck's girl. You always have been, and you always will be.”

“Huck is dead,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I know,” he said sadly. “I can't fight a ghost.”

Jenny's brow creased. “Why would you need to?”

If she couldn't figure it out, he wasn't going to explain it to her. So he changed the subject. “I figured we'd start scraping down the barn today so we can give it a new coat of paint.”

“I've got a few personal errands to run in town,” she said, slipping off the bed and crossing to the dresser to run a brush through her hair. “I'll be back by six to shower and change for dinner.”

“You're going to be gone all day?” he asked, startled.

She gave him a smile in the mirror as phony as a three-dollar bill. “I've put off a lot of things that can't wait any longer.”

“What aren't you telling me?” he said, frowning. “Is there some complication at the bank? Some problem I don't know about?”

She laughed, a brittle sound that sent a chill up his spine. “It's nothing like that.” She set down the hairbrush and turned to face him. “If I'd known you were going to get so upset, I wouldn't have told you about it.”

“And then what?” he said, crossing to her, putting his hands on her shoulders from behind and looking at their two faces in the mirror. “You just disappear for the day? You don't think that might have given me a few gray hairs?”

“You're making too much of this,” she said, shaking off his hands and sliding past him toward the bathroom, where she could shut herself in—and him out.

He caught her arm and whirled her around. “You don't think I'm entitled to an explanation?”

“I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else,” she said sharply.

“I'm your husband.”

“Not yet you aren't!” She jerked her arm free. “And maybe not ever, if this is the kind of inquisition I can expect when I want to go somewhere without you tagging along.”

“Tagging along—” He was too furious to finish.

She poked a finger in his chest to back him off. “I've survived a very long time without you, Colt. Don't you get it? I don't need you. I don't need any man. Especially one who only wants to marry me out of a sense of guilt.”

“A sense of—” he spluttered. “Where is this coming from?”

“You know very well you're only marrying me because you feel obligated as Huck's friend to make sure the widow's taken care of.”

“That's not true!” He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. “I love you, damn it! I always have.”