Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2) (31 page)

And damn it, she wanted that. She couldn’t stay in Vancouver; he was crazy to think things could work between the two of them. But to be with him one final time . . . To make love with Ty, knowing they loved each other. How could she not do that? In a way, the act—and the memory later—would break her heart, but in another way they’d fill her heart with a love she’d never experienced before.

She tightened her grip on his hand and rose. “Yes, let’s go to bed.”

He handed her the bottle, and she assumed he was going to pick up the flute glasses, but instead he scooped her up in his arms.

“What?” She gave a surprised laugh and wrapped her free arm around his neck. “Seriously? You’re going to carry me all the way upstairs?”

He laughed too, sounding almost giddy. Could a tough cowboy really sound giddy? “Kim, you’re light as a bird, graceful as a dragonfly, pretty as a butterfly.”

Her eyes widened. Giddy
and
poetic? He really must be in love. A surge of intoxicating joy rushed through her. “I’m also a woman in love, who can’t wait to get naked with you.” She craned her head up to steal a kiss.

With his strong arms cradling her, he made short work of the stairs. He let her down beside the bed and, with eager, fumbling fingers, they undressed each other. He was erect already, and she was moist and needy.

Ty pulled the covers back. “Lie down, honey. I want to kiss every sweet inch of you.”

And he did. He thrummed the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, an erogenous zone no one had ever discovered before. He licked round and round her areola, then finally sucked her achingly tight nipple until the sweet pleasure shooting straight down to her sex made her climax. Startling her, he poured pink champagne into her navel, then lapped until it was gone, and kept on lapping until need built again. She shuddered, her hips twisted, and she begged, “Ty, I need to come. Make me come.”

Then he moved down to her clit, swirling his tongue around it until her body clutched and spasmed in release. But he didn’t stay at her pussy, he moved down her legs, trailing kisses across the tender skin of her inner thighs, exploring the creases at the backs of her knees, even lightly massaging and kissing her feet.

Every inch of her, he’d said, and he was making good on that promise.

And in the process, his tongue and lips claimed her, marked her. Branded her with sweet kisses that, invisible though they might be, she couldn’t imagine ever forgetting.

He ended up back between her legs, his deft fingers and mouth exploring her with familiar intimacy, wringing another orgasm from her and leaving her limp with satisfaction.

Ty rose above her, so strong and handsome, her cowboy with his streaky hair tousled, his tanned cheeks flushed from giving her great sex. His erect cock brushed her thigh as he reached toward the bedside table for a condom.

“My turn,” she said. “I get to kiss you all over.” Yes, she wanted to. In a minute, when she managed to get some strength back into her body.

“Next time,” he said. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

He took a pillow and eased it under her lower back and butt, raising her lower body. Then, as she smiled at him and spread her legs in welcome, he slid inside. She took him easily, her body slick and primed from all those orgasms.

Almost, she’d have thought she was too blissed out to possibly get aroused again, but when Ty began to pump, her body quickly responded to those sensual strokes. Or was it to the sight of his perfect body, the glow of love in his hazel eyes, the mushy fullness in her heart? She reached up to loop her arms around his neck, to pull his head down to hers. “I love you, Ty.” It felt so good, and so scary, to say those words.

“I love you, Kim.” He kissed her, his tongue thrusting in time with his body’s movements.

Her body pulsed around his cock, urging him on as he stroked that sweet spot inside her.

He angled his movements so that, when he was all the way in and their bodies met, his cock pressed against her clit.

They broke the kiss and just stared into each other’s eyes as both their bodies tightened, tension built, the achy need to climax peaked. This felt more intimate than anything Kim had ever experienced. And when they crested, when climax rocked their bodies, they did it together, crying out in a male-female duet.

The aftershocks rippled for a long time as she clung to Ty, then finally he relaxed down to rest atop her, taking most of his weight on his legs and elbows. He smiled at her, said, “Yes. That’s what it’s like to make love with the person you love.”

“Yes.” It was wonderful, amazing, earth-shaking, and already she was starting to feel sad.

Ty rolled away, disposed of the condom, and reached for the champagne bottle. He hoisted it, said, “To us,” took a swig then handed it to her.

Slowly, she sat up, reaching down to pull up the sheet and tucking it under her arms so it covered her breasts. Propped with pillows behind her back, she took the bottle. “To us.” Her voice came out flat. The wine, when she took a sip, was still bubbly and delicious, and somehow that seemed wrong.

She handed the bottle back and wrapped her arms around herself as if, at this too-late date, she could protect her heart.

Ty sat on the side of the bed, facing her. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Tears threatened. The most wonderful, intimate, loving sex of her life, and she’d had it with a man she’d never see again. A man who didn’t even seem to realize something was wrong. Annoyance mingled with pain. “Well, how about us? Like, we’re all wrong for each other.”

“What?” He shook his head, looking baffled. “We’re right for each other. This was great, wasn’t it? Making love like this?”

“Yes, of course. It was”—she swallowed hard—“incredible.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That it was, well, I guess I’d call it good-bye sex.”

His jaw dropped. “Good-bye? What the hell are you talking about? I thought you’d decided to stay.”

He’d thought that? Had she been unclear? “Ty, this couldn’t possibly work out between us.”

His jaw tightened. “Like hell it couldn’t.”

Seriously?
He thought they were somehow going to ride off into the sunset together? Frustrated, but trying to sound reasonable, she pointed out, “If we were right for each other, it’d be easy. Everything would fit the way it’s supposed to. Like it did for my parents, and for your dad and Betty.”

He took a hearty slug of champagne. Sounding a little annoyed, he said, “Everything fit for you and Henry.”

“Exactly! If things didn’t work for Henry and me, how could they possibly work for us? Besides, I thought I was in love with him too. I mean, I
was
in love, and it fizzled out. That could happen with us.”

Scowling, he asked, “You feel the same way for me as you did for Henry?”

That stopped her. “No,” she admitted. “With you and me, it’s more passionate. And stronger and deeper. And more exciting. With him, it was comfortable.” Not that she didn’t feel comfortable with Ty too, but it was—there was that word again—“different.” “Henry and I didn’t need to explain things. It was like he was already family.” Right down to him agreeing with her parents about her career.

“But where’s the fun, the stimulation, the challenge?”

Feeling disloyal to her good friend, she said, “I don’t think Henry’s into that kind of thing. Like, he’s enjoyed living an independent life here, but there’s no question in his mind that he’ll go back to Hong Kong and take up the life his parents have always planned for him.”

“That’s okay if it’s the life he wants.”

“I don’t think he’s let himself consider any other possibility.”

“Then you’re not alike, you and him. You fought for the chance to follow your passion and create your own life.”

He was right. Henry had thought she was disloyal to even contemplate it, yet Ty had helped her make that dream a reality.

Ty sighed, then handed the champagne bottle back to her. “Have a drink and relax, Kim.”

Relax? Impossible. But she did unwind one arm from around her body and take a slug of wine.

“Think about the life you want to create,” Ty said. “Imagine it. Can you see yourself basing UmbrellaWings at the ranch? Going into Vancouver for business. Traveling to Hong Kong whenever you want, and going other places too as the company expands. But living here, with me. Helping me with Drummer and the rescue horses that come after her.”

Yes. No. She bit her lip.

“Going for rides,” he continued. “Dipping your feet in the stream, having dinner on the porch in summer while we watch the sunset, or in front of the fireplace in winter. Catching up on each other’s days, sharing ideas.”

Yes, she could imagine it. But . . .

“Working as partners. Helping each other build our own businesses.” A twinkle lit his eyes. “Hanging your art in the house. Making love wherever and whenever we want.”

“As long as your parents don’t drop in,” she murmured. But yes, the picture he painted was a seductive one.

“You and me, curling up in bed together at night, and waking up together in the morning.”

“At four o’clock?” she had to say. “Sorry, cowboy. Wake me up when you come in for breakfast.”

“You bet. Unless you’re already up doing yoga, or phoning New York or Hong Kong.”

Damn him, she could imagine it. What an amazing life. It could work. She took another sip from the bottle, and bubbles sparkled and fizzed on her tongue. A romantic wine, and a romantic image. Her romantic side wanted to buy into this future, the rosy one he’d created in her mind. But she’d always been a realist . . .

She remembered the book club debating whether Marty and Dirk’s relationship would last. The others had persuaded her it might—because she and Marty were very different women.

“Talk to me,” Ty said.

Thirty-one

K
im wasn’t used to sharing her deepest emotions, her doubts, her hopes. Conversation with her parents was pragmatic, and even with her friends she didn’t share her intimate feelings. She’d bet her cowboy wasn’t big on talking about emotions either. But in a relationship—and she could no longer pretend this was just a
rumspringa
fling—you had to share.

Slowly, she started. “I love my parents. Hong Kong’s always been my home. Vancouver’s my second home and I love it, but I feel a strong tie to Hong Kong. And to my parents. I’m their only child, and it’s a tight bond.”

He leaned forward to rest a hand on her sheet-covered knee. “I know.”

She appreciated that he didn’t say that it was a short flight to Hong Kong. They both knew that, and knew that making flying visits now and then was very different from living with her parents. “Security is a big thing in my family. Financial and emotional. I’ve never been financially independent, and now I’m starting a business. My parents would help, with financing and by sharing their knowledge and experience.”

“Your parents would help.” His tone was noncommittal. “Would UmbrellaWings be your company, or theirs?”

“Mine.”

“If you had a different opinion on something than they did, whose would rule?”

She frowned slightly. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

“Two against one. And they have all that knowledge and experience.”

“Yes, I’d listen seriously to their opinions.”

“You listened to mine when we were working on the business plan. But you’re the one who made the decisions. Would it be like that with your parents?”

It never had been, yet UmbrellaWings was her idea, her vision, her plan. She shrugged, unsure.

“Has it ever been like that, with them?”

“With the business plan. They didn’t challenge anything I proposed.”

“Except your idea of launching it in Vancouver.”

“Well, yes, but for personal reasons. Because they want me home.” She tossed her head. “Just like you’re trying to influence me for personal reasons.”

The corner of his mouth twisted ruefully. “I’m just saying, listen to us with your mind and your heart, and decide what
you
really want to do. That’s what counts, honey.”

A nice sentiment. A Western one. Where she came from, duty and family loyalty were what counted. His comment made her think of how strongly her parents would disapprove of him. If she said she’d fallen for a cowboy/rancher and was staying in Vancouver so she and Ty could decide if they had a future, her parents would be shattered. The ancestors would be shattered.

She sighed. “My parents have always loved and cherished me. I’ve never had to wonder if that love was real or would last.” How could she jeopardize it on the fragile hope that things would work out between her and Ty?

“Then they should love you, whatever you do.” His mouth twisted ruefully. “Even if they get pissed off for a while.”

She knew he was thinking about his parents’ reaction when he’d chosen rodeo over ranching.

He went on. “With parents and kids, you don’t get to pick ’em. But you do pick the person you want to spend your life with. You meet someone, get to know them, feelings develop, you get married.”

Or, in an arranged marriage, you got married then those other things were supposed to follow. Neither situation offered a guarantee of happily ever after. “That’s a lovely idea. And if I’d met you when I moved here, we could have dated and seen where things went.” If the relationship had become serious, she’d have told her parents and . . . She shook her head. No, she still couldn’t imagine it working.

“Anyhow,” she went on, “if I stayed now, with us barely knowing each other, we have no idea if things will work out.” Anxiety ratcheted up inside her. Why couldn’t he see what a huge, crazy thing he was proposing? “What if I’m not happy? I’d have shattered my family, risked my career, and where would I be? Stuck on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.”

His shoulders straightened and his jaw tensed. “Being on Ronan Ranch isn’t being
stuck
. And it’s not in the middle of nowhere, it’s in beautiful country, an hour from Vancouver, halfway to Hope. A day from Hong Kong, damn it.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he said coolly.

She wasn’t entirely sure she did either, at this point. Gripping the sheet tightly to her chest, she said, “It’s all too much. Every little bit of it—starting a new business, my relationship with my parents, you and me having such different homes and loyalties. Our relationship being so new, the fact that your parents really don’t approve of me and that’d go double for mine, with you. If you made me stay here rather than—”

“Made you?” He looked outraged.

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Did he have to misinterpret everything she said? It just proved they could never be a good match. “I meant,” she explained, “my parents would hate it if I stayed here. There’s absolutely no way they’d approve of us being together.”

“Jesus, Kim, grow up!” He jerked to his feet and paced a couple of steps away, dragging his hands through his hair.

She glared at his naked back, so broad, strong, and forceful. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He spun and faced her. “Start thinking for yourself. Stop letting your parents rule your life.”

Feeling vulnerable being naked in bed, she climbed out and started to dress. “Stop telling me what to do.”

“Fuck.”

Hurriedly, she pulled on the rest of her clothes. She hated raised voices, hated fighting. Her heart raced painfully and she tried to calm down. It was in her nature to want to please people, but she couldn’t make both her parents and Ty happy. The best she could hope for, with him, was to make him understand. “Look, you of all people should understand family loyalty. You bought this ranch partly because of your parents. You felt guilty for running out on them when the first ranch was in trouble and—”

“I didn’t run out on them, damn it!”

He kind of had, but rather than point that out, she kept quiet.

Apparently, he didn’t feel the least bit vulnerable, being naked. He paced away, came back. “Okay,” he said more calmly, “so I felt guilty. And I knew they hated their town jobs. But I wanted this ranch too, Kim. I didn’t want to rodeo full-time forever. I wanted a home, land, the country. Horses and cattle. Down the road, a wife and kids. It’s a way of life, a way I’ve always known and one I choose. Don’t you get that?”

Though he loomed over her, she stood her ground, hands on her hips, and stared up at him. “Yes. My way of life’s in Hong Kong.” But even as she said the words, she knew that, in the midst of Hong Kong’s color, bustle, noise, and pollution, she’d miss Ronan Ranch.

He stared back as if he was seeing her afresh. “Damn it. You said it before, more than once. I should have listened. Thank God we didn’t take this relationship any further. You’re just like Miranda.”

“I am not!” How dare he say that? “I’d never run out on my child.”

“How about on your husband? Or your boyfriend? What happens when the excitement wears off? When the stuff that seemed different and fascinating turns out to just be dust and chores?”

Dust and chores? She knew that wasn’t how he saw Ronan Ranch. Nor would she ever see it that way. Not with the grandeur of the mountains, the graceful deer, wounded horses to heal, flowers and fresh fruit and crisp streams and the freshest air she’d ever breathed. Still, it wasn’t her home, and would never be. She wouldn’t run out on it, because she’d never choose it in the first place.

“Run home, Kim,” he said tiredly, as if he’d read her mind. “Run back to Hong Kong and your parents. You say it’s about loyalty to them. Seems to me it’s cowardice. You don’t have the guts to figure out what you want and go for it, when the going’s hard.”

“I do.” She gazed at him, the man she’d finally admitted she loved. “The going’s hard now, Ty. I love you and I don’t want to hurt you. But I believe that what I’m doing is right.”

“Then maybe it is. For both of us. But when you’re back home, think about the symbolism of those wings you love so much.”

“The symbolism?”

“Wings are about flight. About soaring high and free, wherever you want to go. Can you do that when you’re with your parents? Can you take UmbrellaWings wherever you want it to go? Can you fall in love and marry the man you choose? Or will they clip your wings? Will you forever be painting wings, and never taking flight yourself?”

Ooh! He would never, ever understand. He didn’t even want to try. He said he loved her, but all he wanted was to slot her neatly into his comfy little life. “You have a lot of nerve, saying that,” she snapped. “If I stayed here, all the risk would be on me. You wouldn’t be risking one thing! If you and I broke up, you’d still have your home, your business, your family.”

He was impossible. What had she been thinking, even starting up with him? That idiotic book had bewitched her, had made her abandon her normal common sense. Now, her heart ached and tears burned behind her eyes.

“This is crazy,” he said, glaring at her. “What were we thinking?”

“Exactly!” She spun on her heel. “Have a nice life,” she tossed bitterly over her shoulder.

“Count on it.” She’d never heard a man snarl before, but that was definitely what he did.

Fierce energy carried her down the stairs and out to her car, but once inside her hand trembled as she tried to fit the key into the ignition. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away. If this was love, then love sucked. She was never going to fall in love again.

She made it down the ranch road, unlatched the gate, drove through, then got out and latched it again. Resting her arms on the weathered wooden top rail, she stared back at Ronan Ranch, with black cattle grazing in one field and horses frolicking in another.

Then she put her face down on her crossed hands and let the tears flow.

* * *

M
onday afternoon, Kim trudged to book club. Her eyes burned from tears, shed and unshed.

Marielle had chosen The Black Frog, near the steam clock in Gastown. Arriving late, Kim found the others wrangling over appetizers. Consulted, she said, “Whatever.” It wasn’t like she had an appetite.

Redheaded George was vibrant in a silk jersey blouse patterned in shades of copper. Would Kim have time to fly back for her and Woody’s wedding? Would she be invited? Out of sight, out of mind. She was just a member of a book club, only starting to become a friend.

Marielle, in a figure-hugging purple tee over black leggings, looked gorgeous as always with her smooth coffee-colored skin, mass of curly dark hair, and flashing eyes. The woman who lived life as an ongoing
rumspringa
. Kim loved her generous spirit and joie de vivre. Would Marielle ever settle on one drink, one job, one man, or would she always be happy to keep sampling?

Lily, wearing a dove gray jacket and pants with an elegantly simple white top, had a light tan which set off her fair hair. But rather than appearing relaxed and end-of-summery, she looked tired. These days, she always looked tired. Would Kim ever find out what was going on with Lily? Did it have to do with her marriage?

“Lily, what does your husband do?” she found herself asking.

Three faces turned toward her with surprised expressions.

She flushed, feeling pushy. But if she didn’t find out now, she never would.

“Dax is a helicopter pilot,” Lily said slowly. “A bush pilot.” At last week’s book club, she’d said it could be hard to maintain a relationship when the partners had really different careers. Was that from personal experience?

“Wow,” Marielle said. “I’d never have guessed. A family practice doctor and a bush pilot. That’s another attraction of opposites, like Woody and George.”

And me and Ty.
“You’ve been married how long?”

“Ten years. I was twenty-two.”

“Younger than I am now,” Kim said.

Lily pressed her lips together, then released them. “This is a book club. We should decide on the next book.”

Kim was still curious, but couldn’t be pushy enough to persist.

Their drinks arrived, and as the waitress served them, Kim reached under the table for the large bag she’d brought with her. From it, she took three carefully wrapped cylinders. Silently, she handed one to each woman.