Own the Night (15 page)

The guys she’d been with were more like her—daring enough but not too reckless, smart, armed with an Ivy League education and certainty about their future. They’d probably turned out like the men she occasionally dated now, with their expensive haircuts, designer suits, enough assets to subsidize Brooklyn. When the pricey clothes came off, sex was okay, but sleeping with those men was never anything spectacular.

Now that she thought about it, sex was more like a polite business deal—short, civilized, to the point. But with Noah?

Looking into his handsome face, those smoky blue-green eyes that were too sexy for his or her own good, Alana found her entire body trembling. He was just so damn…male, and much more physical than she was used to. He didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted from an amenable partner.

And confidence? Good God, he had that to spare, whether he was wearing worn jeans or nothing at all. Without question he was the one in charge, and that should’ve irritated her, maybe even thrown her off track a bit. Definitely not turned her on, made her ache and burn so hot she thought she was losing her mind.

He stroked between her thighs and lazily met her gaze. Those eyes alone could make a woman fear she’d teetered too close to the edge. That one misstep could bring doom.

“Sure wish I knew what you were thinking,” he said, his lips quirking in a slow smile.

“Right now my brain is mush.”

“Mush is good.” He put his mouth on her, and she arched off the couch, gasping.

While he used his tongue and teeth to drive her crazy, he cupped a breast and kneaded the sensitive flesh. Her nipple was unbearably tender, so she flinched a little. His fingers stilled, withdrew.

Alana pulled on his forearm and forced his hand back to her breast. Felt his smile blossom against her, then the long glide of his tongue, which made her shudder.

The sensation was like an electrical current. She grabbed the back of the couch, disoriented, surprised that she was coming so quickly, shocked at the intensity of the climax that broke over her in wave after unrelenting wave. Instinctively, she tried to get away, evade his insistent tongue, but he had a firm grip of her hips, and she convulsed again, over and over, until she thought she just might die from it.

Noah was breathing hard when he finally lifted his head, his mouth damp, his nostrils flaring, his eyes nearly black. And his chest—his strong, broad chest with its light sheen of sweat—heaved with every deep breath he drew. God, how she wanted him inside her. This so wasn’t fair.

“Come here,” she whispered, opening her arms to him.

“No.”

“Noah.” She lowered her gaze to the swell of his fly and threw his own words back at him. “Trust me.”

He caught her hand, kissed her palm. “We’ll go get condoms.”

“Yes, later.” She curled up to a half-sitting position, and with her free hand rubbed his fly.

“Jesus, don’t.”

“Take off your jeans.”

His hooded eyes were practically slits. “Alana…”

“Do it.”

His big body shuddered and he slowly did as she asked. He pushed the jeans down his lean hips, and freed from the denim, his arousal thrust into her waiting hand.

* * *

“S
HE
’
S
GONNA
WHIP
YOUR
ASS
again, Calder.” Leaning against the wood-paneled wall and grinning, Trace McAllister tipped a bottle of beer to his lips.

Noah scoffed. “I let her win the first game.”

Cole and Rachel laughed. They were brother and sister, but couldn’t have looked more different. Cole had dark hair and dark eyes, while Rachel was fair-skinned with a thick auburn mane and green eyes. Then there was Trace with his brother’s sable-brown hair and eyes like his sister’s.

Alana hadn’t met Jesse, the middle brother, yet, or their mother, but she had a feeling she’d like them as much as she did these three. Fifteen minutes after she and Noah had arrived at the Sundance, she’d felt as if she’d known them forever. Rachel had apologized profusely for the mix-up with the reservations, which was nice, but not necessary. Alana hadn’t missed the curiosity on all their faces, which she’d expected. But they couldn’t have made her feel more welcome.

Three guests of the ranch had been sitting on the porch of the large house, bantering with the hands, when she and Noah had driven up in his truck. The women’s stunned glares watching him take her hand weren’t unexpected, either, but Alana had enjoyed that. She’d nudged him and asked if she was supposed to be his bodyguard. He’d only grunted, then given her one of those sexy looks that said he’d make her pay for that remark later. Worked for her.

She watched Noah line up his shot now, and sincerely hoped that he did win this one. Letting him beat her wasn’t an option. He’d know and he wouldn’t like it.

Sitting on the comfy black leather couch near the fireplace, Rachel waited until Noah pocketed the six ball and said, “Sorry, guys, I have to go make nice with our guests. I should’ve asked, though, have you eaten yet?”

“Yep,” Noah said with a straight face. “We had quiche.”

Trace snorted. “You had what?”

“Quiche.” Noah repeated the lie and met her eyes, his filled with devilish amusement.

Cole rubbed the back of his head and tried to hide a smile.

Rachel didn’t hold back. After a good chuckle, she asked, “Does that mean you want leftovers? We had pot roast.”

“Yes, ma’am. Bag ’er up.” Noah took another shot and missed, then muttered under his breath.

“I’m out for blood now, mister.” Alana patted him on the butt as she slipped around him to gauge her next move.

Rachel had already walked out of the room, but Alana didn’t miss the look that passed between the two brothers. She didn’t care what they thought, only because it clearly didn’t matter to Noah. Cole was his best friend.

In fact, he was the keeper of the condoms. That was the main reason she’d agreed to get dressed and come to the Sundance, or else she might’ve been tempted to handcuff Noah to the couch. But now she was really glad she’d come. She loved meeting his friends and seeing how the McAllisters served as a second family to him. He was so comfortable around them, and so was she. It made her a little sad that she didn’t have anyone like them back in New York. Her fault entirely for focusing all her attention on work, but still.

She leaned over the table, lining up the fifteen, and sensed Noah behind her. Not touching her, but he was there; she confirmed it with a glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He checked out her ass, then raised his gaze and gave her an innocent smile.

Trace laughed. “I hope you wipe the floor with him. The bastard always beats me two out of three and I’m damn good.”

Alana darted another look at Noah. Maybe she was the one being played.

“There you are.” A pretty brunette stuck her head in and smiled at Trace. “I thought I heard your voice. You ready?”

His confused expression gave way to awareness. Whatever they had planned, he’d obviously forgotten. “Be right there.” He waited until she left, and muttered, “Hell,” then drained his beer and headed toward the door. “Nice meeting you, Alana.”

After he’d disappeared, Noah grinned at Cole. “The kid’s still burning the midnight oil?”

“He’s cooled it some. If Rachel closed shop for the winter, it would be fine with him. Maybe he’d get some rest.”

“You could all use the break, I suspect,” Noah said, and Cole seemed hesitant to react, probably because Alana was supposed to have been a guest. “At least you met Jamie. Is she coming back for the holidays, or are you going to L.A.?”

Pretending she wasn’t listening, Alana took her shot and missed by the skin of her teeth. She wanted to know who Jamie was, but decided she’d ask Noah privately. She wasn’t even sure why she cared. This thing between her and Noah was a one-off. What happened here in Montana would stay in Montana. Forever. There was no other way.

She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, and stood back for him to take his turn. The bastard ran the rest of the table without a single pause between shots, except to wink at her.

15

L
ATE
W
EDNESDAY
MORNING
,
WHILE
Noah was working, Alana walked over to the Watering Hole to visit Sadie. The bar wasn’t open yet, but Sadie was putting up last-minute Halloween decorations, and Alana had promised to give her a hand.

“Hello, stranger,” she said when she opened the door. “Hurry on in before the booze hounds come sniffing around, trying to get me to open early.”

Alana glanced over her shoulder. “Who?”

“Avery and his sidekick. Gotten so I hate seeing his dilapidated rust bucket coming down Main. The old buzzard does nothing but complain ever since the Sundance opened.” Sadie turned the dead bolt, then walked ahead, her limp noticeably improved. “Heard you were out there with Noah on Monday.”

Alana shook her head. The Blackfoot Falls rumor mill was truly impressive. “We were, and I met the McAllisters. They were great. Although I didn’t meet Jesse or their mother. Your leg seems better.”

“Yep, saw the doc today and even he thinks there’s hope for me yet.” Sadie grinned and slid her bulk onto a stool at the bar in front of a box of decorations. “I also heard you stopped in here Monday, checking up on me.”

“I was very pleased to hear you took time off to rest your leg.” Alana peered into the box before taking the stool next to Sadie. “You’re starting late. Halloween is in, what, two, three days?”

“I wasn’t gonna bother. If people wanna drink, they’ll come. They won’t care if I’ve draped crepe paper around the bar and hung tacky ghosts from the ceiling.”

Alana figured she was past the danger point. If Sadie had intended to bring up her shouting match with Gunderson, she would have already. So Alana just smiled. “What changed your mind?”

“I was talking to Marge over at the diner and she thinks I’m being shortsighted. With the Sundance bringing in tourists, and Clyde who owns the Double R and Eli Roscoe from the Circle K talking about following in their footsteps, Marge thinks we should do more to spruce up the town. Maybe keep the boys from taking those gals to Kalispell or anyplace else.”

“You mean others ranchers are thinking of switching to dude ranches?”

“Nah, they wouldn’t out-and-out change over. They’re mostly cattlemen. But a lot of people have large houses, or bunkhouses they don’t use anymore, that they could convert to guest quarters and start their own dude ranches. With the price of corn, this area’s been hurt bad. People gotta do whatever they have to do to survive.” Sadie pulled out a roll of black crepe paper from the box, her dark brows dipped in a frown. “Even with the likes of Avery Phelps shooting his mouth off about strangers bringing nothing but trouble.”

“Any truth to that?”

Sadie snorted and waved a plump hand. “Not a lick. I feel sorry for the man. His wife died, and he’s been miserable ever since, but it wasn’t like he treated her so good when she was alive, either. Now it seems all he does is drink and try to make everyone else as miserable as him. That’s the reason he’s taken up with Gunderson. They used to hate each other, now they’re like two peas in a pod, trying to rile the McAllisters.”

Alana’s attention sharpened at the mention of Gunderson. “What’s the deal with him, anyway? Why does everyone tiptoe around him?”

“Hmm, ornery old bastard is the richest man in the county,” Sadie said. “He wouldn’t personally have anything to do with stealing your things, but I wouldn’t put it past him to keep his mouth shut if he saw who did. Probably figured you were a Sundance guest and decided to let the feathers fly.” She rooted around inside the box, then flapped her hand at the airborne dust she’d stirred up. “It’s not as if he doesn’t have enough land, but he’s been trying to get the McAllisters to sell him a piece of their spread for over forty years. I suspect they might’ve had to cave in until Rachel started bringing in money with her dude ranch idea.”

“I’m sorry it’s been that bad for them,” Alana said quietly. Glancing around the bar, she was suddenly aware that the wood-plank floor and rickety stools that she’d assumed were intentionally rustic actually were in need of repair.

“Like it or not, the town has benefited from the McAllisters’ gumption,” Sadie said.

Alana inhaled deeply. “Then let’s keep the tourists and their money right here in Blackfoot Falls.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “What’s that?”

“Don’t give them a reason to drive to Kalispell or wherever.” Excited, with ideas already starting to flow, Alana slipped off her stool and started walking around the tables. “You have extra room here—who owns that vacant space next door?”

“I do.”

“Fantastic.” She knocked on the dividing wall. “There’s no brick behind here, is there?”

“Girl, what are you doing?”

“What would you think about turning the Watering Hole into an old-time saloon? It wouldn’t take much.”

Sadie shook her head. “Where did that come from?”

“You agreed with Marge about trying to keep tourists here. I’m an ideas person. It’s what I do for a living. I can help you.”

“Why?” Sadie blinked. “Why do that? You’re on vacation. A pretty crappy one at that.”

Alana gestured dismissively. “I don’t have much to do while Noah’s working. It would be fun.”

“How much longer you gonna be here? It’s Wednesday already.”

“Oh.” Alana did the math and shook her head again. Talk about being delusional. She had only three days left before she returned to New York. Only three days left with Noah. “That’s okay,” she said, trying to rally her sagging spirits. “I can still do a lot.”

Sadie studied her for a moment, then smiled gently. “You’re gonna miss him, aren’t you?”

“Well, of course I am,” Alana said irritably, not anxious to talk about him, or her leaving. “Let’s get back to the Watering Hole. Are you interested in the old-time saloon theme? I think it would be a draw for tourists.”

“Sounds like a hell of an idea. But, honey, I don’t have that kind of money.”

“It wouldn’t cost much. I bet you have some things in your garage or attic we could use, maybe old wooden signs or even… The ranches around here, they’re quite old, aren’t they?”

“Been in the same families for over a hundred years, most of them.”

“I’m willing to bet they all have attics full of stuff they don’t want.”

Sadie looked at her thoughtfully. “In the back I have a sign that belonged to my granddaddy, offering a shave and haircut for two bits.”

“Yes, exactly.” She turned to measure the room by eye, trying to figure out how much extra space was available. The place was big, the tables and chairs sparse, and she guessed that as time had passed broken furniture hadn’t been replaced. On the walls were three posters advertising rodeos and a county fair.

She gestured to an empty corner. “Over here maybe you can have a game of chance—a legal one, of course. We wouldn’t want to get the sheriff’s boxers in a twist.”

“Well, now, how do you know I wear boxers, Ms. Richardson?”

At Noah’s gruff question, Alana spun around. He stood just inside the door, not looking as annoyed as he’d sounded. A fond smile tugged at his mouth, and she felt herself flush. “Where did you come from?”

Sadie laughed until she started coughing, but quickly got herself under control. “He knocked and I let him in. You were too busy eyeballing things to notice.”

“Am I right about the boxers?” Alana grinned. “It was just a guess, Sheriff.”

He shook his head in mock disgust, moving into the room and looking at Sadie. “She giving you any trouble?”

“For pity’s sake, the woman has a head full of ideas. Don’t know how she intends to pack in so much before she leaves, though.”

Alana met Noah’s gaze and emotion clogged her throat. In three days she had to say goodbye to this man. How was she going to do that without… She turned away quickly, before she made a complete fool of herself. “I bet you could get Gretchen and Sheila to wear saloon girl costumes, and if you can sew, it shouldn’t cost much to keep a selection of dresses to rent to the guests from the Sundance. You can also have theme nights and—”

“Slow down.” Sadie chuckled. “Let’s see what your man wants.”

Alana let out a soft laugh, her mouth open as she darted a look at Noah. He didn’t seem offended or uncomfortable or…much of anything, actually. Maybe he was used to Sadie making crazy remarks.

He lifted his hat and readjusted it. “I’ll be in the office for a while. Come by later if you want to have lunch. If you’re too busy here, no problem.”

“Of course she’d rather have lunch with you,” Sadie declared. “We’re just throwing up some decorations.”

Noah hadn’t taken his eyes off Alana. “I’m interested in hearing all these ideas she has for the Watering Hole.”

“Hey, I have ideas for the whole town,” she said, annoyed that she couldn’t read him. The man could be so damn straight-faced when it served him.

“It’s a shame you won’t be here longer,” Sadie said. “I bet Marge, Abe and Louise would like to pick your brain. Louise has the sewing shop down the street. She’d want the costume business.”

“Sure, I’ll meet with her. Abe and Marge, too, if they’re interested.”

Sadie regarded Noah with a shrewdness that put Alana on alert. “She won’t have any time left for you, Sheriff.”

His mouth curved in the confident smile of a man who knew better.

“You just might have to talk her into staying for a while longer.” Sadie went around the bar and pulled out a stapler from under the register.

“I don’t know that I’d be able to swing that,” Alana said, keeping her gaze on the older woman. “But it’s possible I could come back in a few weeks.” She couldn’t believe the impulsive thought had slipped out of her mouth. She already had more work than she could handle in New York. Taking off for a long weekend, much less an entire week, was out of the question. And yet…

Noah hadn’t said a word, and she wanted to check his reaction, but didn’t dare. They hadn’t talked about the future. They both understood this was a temporary thing between them, and if he seemed aggravated or panicked, she couldn’t stand it. The last thing she wanted was to ruin the few days they had left.

“I know, I know,” she said with a flippant laugh. “I’m jumping the gun. I doubt anyone else would be interested. Sometimes I get overly enthusiastic.”

“Don’t be so sure you wouldn’t have takers.” This time Noah didn’t mask his thoughts, clearly wondering if she was serious about her offer. “People are hurting financially. They’ve seen the success of the Sundance and they might be willing to listen if you can help them.”

“Naturally, I can’t guarantee results,” she said, trying to ignore the nagging disappointment. It was admirable that he cared about the community, but she’d been hoping for a more personal reaction.

He smiled. “I’m just saying that if you’re willing to throw out a line, don’t be surprised at the size of your catch.”

Alana smiled back. Those sexy eyes of his drove her crazy. Good thing they didn’t have a professional relationship. As tough as she was at the office, she doubted she could refuse this man anything.

“Of course, there’ll be the naysayers. Or worse, the likes of Avery or Gunderson and the few others who think tourists are the devil’s spawn,” Sadie said with disgust. “But most folks pay them no mind, anyway.”

“Well, ladies, I have to get over to the office,” Noah said. But instead of heading for the door, he moved toward Alana. “I’ll be alone. Come whenever.” He stopped in front of her, used his forefinger to push back the brim of his hat, then tilted her chin up. And kissed her long and hard.

Holy crap. Right in front of Sadie.

Alana broke away first and silently cleared her throat. “I’ll be over in a little while,” she murmured.

“Hell, honey, after that kiss, I’d be dragging him into the back room.” Sadie’s rusty chuckle predictably evolved into a cough, then ended with a mild oath when someone banged on the door.

Noah gestured for her to stay seated. “I’ll take care of it, and Alana can lock up behind me. When should I tell them to come back?”

“Another hour. Bet it’s Avery.” Sadie shook her head. “That man is charging headlong into the drunk tank.” Then her face lit with humor. “Let him try arguing with the sheriff.”

Noah opened the door to find a wiry older man wearing coveralls a size too big, with his fist in the air, ready to knock again.

He jerked back and frowned accusingly at Noah. “What are you doing here?”

“The bar’s not open for another hour, Avery.”

The man shot Sadie a reproachful glance. When his gaze moved to Alana, his face crinkled in a pinched expression, cut short by Noah stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind him.

Sadie eyed the oversize wall clock above the shelves of liquor bottles. “Mind locking it?”

Alana had already moved toward the door and made sure the dead bolt was in place. “So that’s Avery.”

“Yup, but now he won’t bother us for the next hour.”

“Good. We can get a lot done. I hope you have a ladder.”

“Now, look here, honey, I don’t wanna take you away from Noah. Gretchen can help me later.”

Alana picked up the box. “Come on, Sadie. Do I strike you as a woman who’d let a man think she was too eager?”

Sadie grinned. “No, I reckon you don’t.” As soon as she turned away, Alana glanced at the clock.

Fifty-eight minutes and counting.

* * *

S
ITTING
AT
HIS
DESK
, N
OAH
stared at the stack of papers in front of him. If he hadn’t been so distracted waiting for Alana, he could’ve knocked off half the reports by now. Man, she’d shocked him. She was thinking about coming back. Twice he’d come close to bringing up the subject, and had chickened out. No use blowing the little time they had left or setting himself up for disappointment.

No doubt her intentions were good, but once she resumed real life, she probably wouldn’t give him or Blackfoot Falls a second thought.

That should’ve suited him just fine. The sex was outstanding, and as much as he’d miss that aspect of their relationship, he plain liked talking to her. He’d confessed more about his feelings toward his mother to Alana than he had to any other human being, and hadn’t seen a single trace of judgment in her eyes. She seemed to understand his need to stay emotionally detached, and respected his right to have those feelings.