When It's Right (20 page)

“Blake will break your face if he finds out about this. My grandfather will fire your ass.”

“
If
they find out. You're going to keep that pretty mouth shut, because if you don't, I'll make sure you're sorry about it. In fact,” he said and rubbed his hard dick against her pelvis, “I'll make you scream how sorry you are. No way I lose my job over a piece of ass like you—­one who's nothing better than a murderous bitch.”

She gasped.
Damn that nosy kindergarten teacher.

“Everyone knows you killed your daddy. Is this how your arm got broken?” He pressed down harder on her wrists. “You like it rough, and he held you down.”

“You've got a sick, twisted mind, asshole.”

“Did he smack you when you let loose your sharp tongue?”

“Yes, then I shot him twice for being an asshole. Imagine what I'm going to do to you if you don't get off me right this second, you fucking bastard.”

“Gillian,” Justin called.

Ken let go of one of her hands and covered her mouth.

“You listen good. If you tell Blake I whipped that horse, or you, I'll make you pay. You keep your damn mouth shut, or the next time I catch you alone, I'll finish what I started and fuck you good.”

Her heart thrashed in her chest. She tried to keep her head, think through the anger and fear. God, she wished Blake was here. Justin was coming. She needed to get Ken off her before Justin saw them.

She needed to teach him a lesson.

Stupid, single-­minded man stared down at her breasts as she reached up with her free hand and grabbed at the tools she'd left out. Her fingers wrapped around a wrench. She swung it hard, connected with the side of his face, and split open a gash from his temple to his forehead. He fell off her, grabbing his head and moaning in pain.

She shoved him aside, scrambled up, and took three steps back. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, or you'll wish the worst thing that happened to you is getting your ass kicked by Blake and losing your job.”

Ken dragged himself up to his feet and wobbled, his hand pressed to the nasty, bleeding cut. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

“You better keep your mouth shut.” He stumbled away, walking off toward the bunkhouse.

The sense of triumph washed away the worst of the fear. She'd done it. She'd stood up for herself and made Ken understand he couldn't treat her that way ever again. If he tried, she'd defend herself. No one would ever hurt her again.

She rushed to meet Justin, but stopped at the side of the barn to catch her breath before she went around the corner to meet her brother. Funny, he looked like he'd just come out of the barn instead of coming toward it. She tucked the bloody wrench in her back pocket. Ken couldn't possibly be stupid enough to come after her again. But just in case, she'd keep the weapon.

“Justin. There you are. Do you want to go see Honey? I left an apple in the stables for you to feed her.”

Justin's gaze never left his sneakers, even when he walked to her and handed her the cell phone. “Grandma said to give you this. Blake wants to talk to you. He's on his way home.” Justin turned on his heel and walked toward the stables, dragging his feet in the dirt and kicking up dust.

Eager to talk to Blake, she dismissed his odd behavior and didn't scold him for getting his school shoes dirty. Gillian followed Justin inside with the phone to her ear. Desperate to hear his voice, she pleaded, “Blake, please tell me you'll be here soon.”

 

Chapter 21

E
very time Blake called home to talk to Gillian over the last eight days, he'd heard how anxious she'd been to talk to him, but not like this. He felt the same urgency growing inside him. He needed to hear her voice. He desperately wanted to kiss her.

“I'm on my way, sweetheart. It seems the storm we left behind in Nevada caught up to us again. It's slow going with the horse trailers. We won't make it back until late tonight. You'll probably be asleep.”

“I don't care what time it is, you wake me up so I can see your face.”

It did his heart good to hear how much she missed him. “I plan on it. I can't wait to see you. It's been too long. It seems like forever since I set eyes on you.”

“It has been forever. I've missed you,” she admitted, her words soft. “So much.”

“I miss you, too.” More than he thought he would. He'd never felt like this about anyone. He'd never felt closer to anyone. She pulled at him. The farther away he got from her, the more he felt the tug to return to her.

“I heard about what happened at Justin's school yesterday. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you out. I can't believe they called the sheriff.”

“Yeah, well, they thought I was a wanted murderer.”

“It was self-­defense,” he spit out and slammed his palm on the truck's steering wheel. It pissed him off that Justin's teacher was trying to cause trouble for Gillian. He wondered if it had more to do with his past than hers. “He tried to kill you.”

“His teacher thinks I'm a bad influence.”

“Bullshit. You're everything he needs. You love him, and he loves you.”

I love you, too
. Probably not the best time to tell her. Better to do it face-­to-­face. He had a serious need to tell her. He didn't want to be without her ever again. This past week had shown him how much he wanted her to be a permanent part of his life. It had shown him how much a part of his life she was already. Without her, he wasn't whole.

“Hey, what do you think about me saddling Boots?”

Blake's gut went tight with dread. His mind conjured one image after another of her being thrown to the ground and breaking her bones. Still, he hated to tell her no. She loved riding and working with the horses. Her confidence with them and within herself grew each and every day.

He tried to be diplomatic. “You do not do anything of the sort without me there. He hasn't been saddled or ridden in a long time. He might take exception to you trying.”

“I thought that's what you'd say.”

The disappointment in her voice got to him. “I don't want you getting hurt, sweetheart.”

“Speaking of, I got my cast off. I've got my hand back.”

“I can think of a few things you can do with it.” He had an entire eight days of stored-­up dreams and fantasies about what she could do with her hands.

“Already taken care of. I fixed that truck that's been giving you trouble for the last few weeks. I've got all your spreadsheets updated and spewing out reports. This month's payroll is done.”

The teasing tone didn't escape him. “That's not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Oh, no. What exactly did you have in mind?” Her voice dropped a few octaves, sending a bolt of heat through his system. She liked teasing him. He had to admit, despite the need gnawing at him, her lighthearted game eased his heart. She felt safe enough with him to let her guard down, play, and have fun.

A slideshow of all the things he imagined raced through his mind. His blood heated just thinking about it, and his hands itched on the steering wheel. He needed to get his hands on her. “You're killing me.”

“Killing you would be telling you that I can't wait to run my fingers through that thick mass of golden brown hair. I want to run my fingers over all your tight muscles and feel your skin under my hands. I want to feel your heart beat against my palm.”

“Stop. I'm driving, for God's sake.”

“It's very frustrating to be afraid to touch you because I might scratch you with plaster. Fingertips are okay, but I'll bet there's nothing like having my hands on you. I want that. I want that very much, Blake. I want you.”

“Do you know how hard it is to drive in my condition?” He tried to stretch out his legs to accommodate his aching erection pressed up the length of his fly. “You know I won't be able to think in a minute, because there's no blood left in my brain.” Her laugh made him smile. “I'll get you for this when I get home.”

The laughing stopped, and she went dead silent. Alarms went off immediately. The static on the phone got worse the last few miles, along with the rain. He listened, wondering if she'd hung up on him.

He talked fast, hoping to salvage this conversation. “Gillian? Gillian, I'm kidding. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It was a joke. I swear. I won't touch you if you don't want me to.”

He didn't know how they'd gone from playful to silence in a split second. Stupid idiot. Her father probably issued threats all the time. He could just imagine that he'd do it with little malice in his voice, and then spring on her when she least expected it. Her father had been the kind of man who'd smile and then hit her. Even Justin had talked about the way their father's smile sent a chill up his spine.

Gillian had given Blake the wrong idea. She loved it that they were able to fool around on the phone and make them both want each other. It felt so normal, when her life had been anything but. Then her mind flashed on Ken telling her she'd better keep her mouth shut, or he'd make her sorry.

“Blake, I'm sorry. It wasn't you. I was just . . . it was only . . .” She took a deep breath to calm the foreboding feeling vibrating through her system. “I've had a really hard week, compounded by your absence. I want you here, Blake.”

She should tell him what happened with Ken. Not over the phone though. He'd only be mad and frustrated he wasn't here. What could he do? She'd already taken care of Ken. She'd done what she had to do, what she needed to do for her own peace of mind.

“I'm on my way home to you. I'd be there already if it wasn't for this damn storm following me.”

He didn't know how good that sounded to her. “I'm impatient to see you. I'm sorry I made you think you'd said something wrong.”

Ever intuitive when it came to her, he asked, “Why have you been avoiding the stables? You've only spent a limited amount of time with Boots.”

“That's not true.”

“Yes, it is. Dee told me that you've been acting strange. Jeff and a ­couple of the other guys said you only spend as much time as necessary to feed and work Boots. You've only taken Justin riding twice in the last week, when normally you go every day.”

She ignored most of what he said. “I'm taking him riding again right now.”

Done with subtlety, he asked her a direct question. “Is Ken giving you a hard time? Is that what this is about?”

“I handled it.” She thought about the wrench in her back pocket. He'd think twice about cornering her again. She'd carry the wrench with her all the time. Just in case. You'd think that thought would tip her off to how much of a threat she found Ken, but she passed it off as nothing more than her past intruding on her present yet again.

“Which means he's giving you a hard time and you don't want to tell me about it.”

“It's nothing for you to worry about.”

“Like you'd tell me if it was.” His temper tinged his deceptively calm words. “You know, Gillian, you don't always have to take care of everything yourself. Ken is an asshole who probably deserves a good ass kicking. He's a cocky SOB who thinks he's God's gift to women and horse training.”

She heard his frustration loud and clear, despite the increasing static on the line. Thunder rumbled in the background. She prayed he'd be okay on the road.

Afraid they'd lose the connection soon, she tried to reassure him. “Blake, I'm fine.”

“I know you well enough to know that when you say you're fine, you're really not.”

“I don't want to fight with you. I don't want you coming home mad at me. I miss you. I'm looking forward to seeing you. Can't we leave it at that?”

“For now.” What choice did he have? She was at the ranch without him and vulnerable to Ken. Blake would get to the bottom of this when he got back. Past time Gillian learned to trust him to take care of her. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I want you to know and believe that you can count on me. If Ken is making a nuisance of himself, then let me know, and I'll take care of him.”

She didn't get a chance to answer him. The phone went dead. With all the static on the line at his end, he couldn't be sure she'd even heard him.

Blake slammed the phone down on the dashboard and tried to concentrate on the road. He pounded his palm on the steering wheel and took a deep breath to try to calm down. Ken had better leave her alone, or he was going to wish he had. Blake wasn't going to put up with a guy who couldn't take no for an answer. Besides, everyone at the ranch knew Blake and Gillian were seeing each other. It wasn't a secret. Ken should know better than to go after another guy's girl.

Maybe it was a lesson Ken hadn't been taught. Blake would make sure he learned it well.

 

Chapter 22

B
lake drove for hours with the rain following him home. The gray skies and icy wind matched his mood. The roads were treacherous, making the drive slow going with the horse trailers. Bud and the other ranch hands followed him. They used handheld radios to communicate between the three trucks. Everyone was exhausted, but no one wanted to stop somewhere for the night and ride out the storm.

An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him when he reached the turnoff and the Three Peaks Ranch sign. He passed the house and headed for the stables, but he couldn't help looking up at the second-­story windows. A soft light glowed in her room, showing him the way home.

He'd never had someone waiting for him to come home. Not like this. Not someone who mattered more than anything else in his world.

It took him and the other men two hours to get the horses out of the trailers and into their stalls and settled for the night. He said goodnight to Bud and headed around the house with every intention of going to his place and taking a hot shower. The rain came down in sheets. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled and rumbled. Mud caked his boots and left a trail up the garage stairs and the landing leading to Gillian's door. The shower could wait; his need to see her, kiss her, couldn't.

Soaked to the skin, he stopped outside her window and looked in. She'd left a night-­light on near the door adjoining her room with Justin's. The door was left ajar in case Justin needed her. At the moment, it looked like Gillian needed him. Trapped in the midst of a nightmare, she tossed in her bed and rolled to her back. The sheet slid down her breasts and stopped at her waist as she kicked her feet. She threw her hands up to block her face, then they fell next to her head on the pillow.

He couldn't stand by and watch her struggle alone. Justin wasn't the only one suffering from nightmares. She had her own demons to fight in her sleep, and he hated that something ugly touched her when she was defenseless. He wanted to wipe all the bad memories clean. He wanted to be something good in her life that eclipsed all the bad.

He shook off most of the water droplets falling from his wet hair and pulled off his boots, leaving them on the deck before walking in through the French doors. Unable to stop himself, he went to her, planted his hands on both sides of her body, and leaned over. So beautiful. He took his time studying her in the soft light. Her hair—­in a riot of different colors—­glowed softly in the light and spread across her pillow and shoulders. Her soft, full mouth turned up just slightly at the corners, which made her always seem to have a slight, mysterious smile on her face, despite the somber look that clouded her eyes most days. Her long, dark lashes rested on her cheek. He wanted to lightly run his fingertips over her smooth, golden skin.

He swept his gaze down her body and landed on the bandage on her shoulder. He hated that she'd hurt herself. He didn't want her to hurt ever again.

The pale pink satin and lace nightgown hid nothing from his view. Her breasts swelled with each breath, threatening to spill over the lace top, her nipples a slightly darker pink shadow under the satin. His gaze slid down her body to her taut, flat stomach. He wanted to place his palm on her, spread his fingers wide and span her small waist. The rest of her was covered under the blankets and sheets he wanted to rip away so he could see those stunning legs.

He stilled when he found her watching him with her eyes half open. She didn't move. Her gaze met his, and he held his breath, wanting so badly to lie with her, love her with his body the way he did with his heart.

Standing on the edge of yesterday and everything he wanted for his future, he hoped she took the leap with him.

Like he'd done from the beginning, he waited, letting her take the lead.

“You're home.” The words came out on a relieved exhale.

“Almost,” he said a half second before his lips met hers.

Her lips were soft and warm and welcoming. She opened to him, meeting the slide of his tongue with hers. She combed her fingers through his wet hair and held on. Blake caught himself leaning down to press his wet body to hers. He ended the kiss with a soft nip to her lips and chin. He kissed his way down her neck, inhaling her sweet and tangy scent. Something Ella sent to her from her new cosmetics line. Thankfully, not the same one she sent his mother or that Ella wore. Something soft and sweet, just for his Gillian. The joy in her eyes when the gift basket arrived stayed with him. He loved seeing her happy.

“God, I missed you.”

Her warm hands cupped his face. “I missed you, too. You're freezing. You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

He stood next to the bed, staring down at her lovely face. “I needed to see you before I went home to shower and change into something dry.”

She rose and sat on her heels in front of him. “Don't go. Stay with me.” Her gaze fell away from his for a second with her whispered, shy words.

Too much to hope she meant in her bed, he tried to read the look in her eyes. He wanted her so bad that he didn't trust himself to believe he saw the same gnawing need reflected in her eyes. He wanted her, to be sure. It would be miserably hard to leave her and go back to his place, but he'd do it if she needed more time.

“Stay with me,” she said again, her voice definite.

They stood at a fork in the road, both of them coming from different directions. If they intended to follow a single path and not turn back to where they'd come from, she needed to know one thing. “I love you, Gillian.” He whispered the words, but they held every ounce of love he had in his heart for this woman. She meant everything to him. If she felt the same about him, he'd love her tonight, and every day for the rest of his life. If she didn't, he'd walk away, because he couldn't sleep with her the way he had with others and walk away whole.

“Show me.” Gillian felt full for the first time in her life. Every dark corner, every dream she'd ever dreamed and locked behind that door in her heart came alive with his words. He hadn't gotten into bed and said he loved her in the heat of the moment. No, Blake wanted her to know that he truly, deeply loved her by telling her before he'd even touched her. He meant it, and her heart, her soul, knew it for the truth.

“I need the words.”

Point of no return. If this didn't work out, he'd lose everything he'd worked so hard to build here on the ranch, and Gillian would lose the only man she had ever trusted and opened her heart to love.

Yes, this meant something. This mattered. More than anything else they'd ever experienced in their past. This wasn't the next step in their relationship—­it was the first step toward their future together.

“I've only ever said those words to Justin. He's the only one who ever deserved them—­until I met you.” She leaned up, cupped his face in her hands, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke the words he needed to hear and her heart needed to say. The words she hoped would make all those locked-­away, never-­to-­be-­believed dreams come true. “I love you, Blake.”

His hands slid over her shoulders and up into her hair. His lips pressed to hers in a soft, languid kiss that held so much love tears stung the backs of her eyes.

He ended the kiss and stared down at her, his fingers toying with her hair. “You are so beautiful.”

“Stay. Love me.”

He shrugged his heavy, wet coat off. She helped him with his thermal shirt, mapping her fingers over his taut muscles. He sucked in a breath when her warm skin met his freezing body. She took her time looking at him. She'd seen him with his shirt off many times. Gorgeous, all hard planes and sculpted muscles, his skin tanned from the sun. His broad chest tapered to lean hips. The wet jeans molded to every contour of his corded thighs and outlined the long, thick length of his arousal.

He kissed her softly and left her only long enough to close the door and lock it. He stood beside the bed and stared down at her. She reached for the hem of her nightgown to pull it off over her head.

“Don't.”

She let go, hoping he hadn't changed his mind, but the blazing heat in his eyes said he wanted her. Bad.

“I want to do it. I've been dreaming about this for a long time.” He kissed her forehead, and then the tip of her nose before he stood before her again, undid the button on his jeans, slid the zipper down the rigid length of him, and peeled the wet material down his legs and off his feet. She couldn't take her eyes off all those lean muscles, nothing but his black boxer briefs covering him now. He hooked his thumbs in the band at his waist and slowly pushed them down his legs. Her gaze followed the journey down those lean muscles and came up and locked on his hard cock. She swallowed and met his steady gaze, saw the cocky half smile she'd grown to love so much and had missed these last days.

Her eyes went soft and seductive, and she tilted her head, giving him back an appreciative grin. His biceps were mouthwatering, his chest amazing, but the whole package put together was lethal.

He leaned in, planted his hands on the bed, and followed her down as she fell back onto the pillows again and stretched out her legs just as he lay beside her. His weight made her lean into him. She met him in the middle for a searing kiss and wrapped her leg over his and pressed her warm body to his freezing skin. She rubbed her hand up and down his back, warming him. His hand slid up her thigh, over her hip, and covered her ass. He squeezed and pressed her closer, his thick length pressed to her belly.

With just his fingertips, Blake brushed the straps of her gown down her arms. First, the left side. Then, the right. He slid the bodice down over her breasts. Her arms came free, and he leaned down and took her hard nipple into his mouth. Her breath released on a soft sigh. The pleasure so sweet and warm it washed through her whole body in a wave of addictive heat.

She held his head to her breast and relished the feel of his thick hair sliding through her fingers. Cold and wet, such a contrast to his hot, wet tongue sweeping over her skin. She slid her hands down his neck and over his shoulders, the corded muscles bunching under her palms as he moved to her other breast, his big hand molding the other to his palm. She loved the feel of all that strength at her fingertips. His mouth left hot, wet kisses up her neck. He found her mouth again, and she turned to him and pressed her body to his.

Blake couldn't get enough of her. She tasted so sweet. That tongue of hers darted into his mouth to sweep along his. Sexy as hell. So giving, her body melted against his. Frustrated by the nightgown bunched around her waist, he grasped the material and dragged the whole thing down until his fingers met the top of her panties. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled them down her legs with the nightgown. He threw both over the side of the bed. He didn't want any barriers between them. He wanted her. All of her. Only her.

He smoothed his hand up her strong, smooth thigh and straight to heaven and her hot, wet center. She moaned, and he swept his fingers over her folds, dipped one finger deep into her slick, tight core just so he could hear her make that sexy sound again. She moved her hips against his palm as his finger worked in and out. He took her hard nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. She tightened around his finger, and he circled his thumb over her clit. She grinded her hips against his hand, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and held him to her breast, completely lost to the pleasure that was his to give.

“Blake.”

Just his name on her lips nearly sent him over the edge.

He kissed his way down her belly to her hip, leaned over the side of the bed, and grabbed his jeans for the condom in his wallet. Her hands never stopped touching him, which worked to his advantage when he settled beside her and she swept her fingers down his chest and stomach, wrapping her fingers around his aching cock and stroking him from head to hilt again and again. Unable to take the sweet torture, he tore open the condom with his teeth, tossed the wrapper, sheathed himself, and settled between Gillian's thighs. Her hands wrapped around his waist and rubbed up his back, pulling him close, his heart pressed to hers.

Every fiber of his being wanted to rush, but he reined it in and joined his body with hers in a slow, focused glide that gave him time to feel every sensation of his body pressed to hers. Heaven. Home.

He pulled out and rocked forward. She rolled her hips back, then up to meet him. He kept the pace slow. He wanted to please her. He wanted to make this last.

His skin against hers was warm and soft and hard and intoxicating. He felt the tension building in her body as her hands moved up his back, her fingers digging into his taught muscles. Every long stroke into her fed that tension until she moaned, rocked against him, and grinded her hips to his.

So giving. So completely in sync with him.

She spread her legs wider, took him in deeper, and he craved more. Of her. Of this feeling she evoked deep inside him that wanted to burst free. Her hands slid down his back to his hips, gripped his ass, and pulled him closer. She dug her heels into the bed, raised her hips to meet his next hard, deep thrust. She tightened around him, the tension in him snapped, and he flew over the edge with her. Perfect.

He collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her long, silky hair, his breath sawing in and out just as fast as hers.

He tried to roll to his back, but Gillian held him close with her arms wrapped around his back. Her fingers made hypnotic circles on his shoulders. “I'm crushing you, sweetheart.”

“Don't leave me, Blake. You feel so good.”

“You're the one that feels good.” He kissed her neck and shoulder. “God, you smell sweet.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply—­flowers and citrus. Her scent would haunt him the rest of his days.

The thought made him smile when he thought of Gabe's obsession with Ella's perfume. Now he got it. He got a lot of things, like the protective streak that reared every time he thought Gillian needed him. He loved her.