Rocky Mountain Desire: Six Pack Ranch, Book 3 (10 page)

Matt ruffled Robbie’s hair and crawled to his feet.

“Well, boys, it’s my turn to head out and give some Christmas cheer to the animals. Thanks for the games.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Thanks for saving me from dishes too.”

He got a couple hugs and one fist bump from his oldest nephew who was far too cool for hugging. Wrapping up against the cold, going through all the chores with Blake’s easy presence at his side—it was comfortable, routine, mindless. Yeah, drifting was pretty much the right word for his life.

It was time to shake himself up, even if he didn’t know what that meant.

Blake headed toward the house, the lights along the eaves shining like crazy stars clinging too near the earth. Matt followed for a moment before changing his mind and heading toward his truck. He was halfway to town before he realized what he was doing.

Wondering why he’d headed her direction wasn’t something he could explain either. Would Hope even be home?

He pulled into the parking area outside her shop, and his hopes fell when he spotted her empty parking stall. Still, there was a light shining on the second floor, so he dragged himself out, reaching into the extended cab space for the present he’d been hauling around all week.

Just in case he ran into her.

The doorbell at the top of the landing went off with a cheerful buzz, and he was delighted to hear noises approach. Hope’s eyes appeared in the slim window to the side of the door, a frown creasing her forehead.

“Matt?”

He smiled and offered the package. “Merry Christmas.”

She stared for a moment then shook herself. “Merry Christmas. Come in quick before we lose all the heat.”

The heavy scent of peppermint in the air tickled his nose. It was warmer inside than the last time he’d been in her apartment, but not much. Mostly because he wasn’t as cold to begin with.

“What brings you out on a holiday?” Hope shuffled from foot to foot. She glanced over her shoulder then excused herself, disappearing into the kitchen.

Matt didn’t answer—didn’t know how to answer. Instead, he put down his package. He was in the middle of taking off his layers when the realization hit he’d come straight from chores. “Hey, is it okay if I use your washroom?”

A burst of laughter rang from out of sight. “No problem, but if that’s all you stopped by for, you need to learn to go before you leave the house.”

He washed up, still wondering exactly why he was here. Kind of like he’d wondered the entire time he’d been working on the gift he’d brought her. It made no sense, but he wanted…

Nothing. He wanted nothing.

“Would you like a cup of tea or some apple cider?” Hope asked.

Matt slid into the living room, looking around, his curiosity rising. “Cider would be great. I left before they brought that out, and it’s a Christmas tradition.”

She bought him a mug and gestured to the lone chair that was free from swatches of fabric. “Have a seat. Don’t mind the chaos.”

“Did the shop explode?” He sat gingerly, wondering if the straight-backed chair could hold his weight.

“Just a few projects I thought I should get going.”

Matt sipped his cider to avoid blurting out
On Christmas?
She knew what day it was as well as he did. “Can I help?”

Hope rocked back on her heels where she was kneeling beside the couch. “More help? Do you have a spinning wheel that whenever the hand stops on certain squares you go into the community and do random acts of helpfulness?”

“Good idea, but no. I was just…”

Just what?
He stared down, at a loss for words. She rested on the floor with an expression of complete calm on her face. Her skintight leggings of bright red fabric and a patchwork-quilt sweater that hung nearly to her knees made her look vibrant and alive.

Hope sighed softly, placing her cup to the side and wiggling until she had her arms wrapped around her knees. She rested her chin on them and stared back. “Matt, why are you here? I mean, I’m not going to kick you out, but it’s strange. You got anything more than ‘I was in the neighborhood’ to say?”

He opened his mouth then shut it quickly. How could he tell her anything when he still wasn’t sure what had brought him in her direction, yet again. Matt raised his cup. “I honestly have no idea.”

Something between mischief and sympathy flashed in her eyes. “Very descriptive. I understand completely. Make yourself at home.”

She got on her knees and picked up squares of fabric one at a time, laying them on top of each other carefully.

“You’re not going to call the men in white to throw me into the funny farm?”

She didn’t stop working. “Nope, since I don’t feel like occupying the padded cell next to you. It’s not benevolence, Matt, it’s self-preservation.”

Matt watched her for a while longer. The sensation of loneliness blasted in harder than the icy-cold wind still sweeping the prairie fields to the west of them.

“Can I help you?” he asked again. “That looks interesting.”

Hope checked him over carefully for a moment before her smile lit her face. “If you want. Pick a solid, drop on a square of batting, then layer on any patterned fabric you like. Keep repeating until you have twenty sets in the pile. We’ll stack them on the table for now. Later I’ll chain-stitch them together for the start of the top.”

Matt put aside his cup and joined her on the floor. It was awkward at first, bumping her with his elbows as he reached for different colours. Music played quietly in the background, something with bagpipes, and he smiled, but didn’t say anything.

The silence stretched out, but it was comfortable, not awkward. Matt stood to carry his fourth pile to the table when the buzzer on the stove went off. “You want me to take care of that?”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “There’s nothing in the oven. It’s a timer to remind me to stop what I’m doing and have some supper. I tend to forget otherwise.”

Matt nodded. “Can I help make something?”

Hope shook her head. “Freezer meal, ready to nuke. You want one?”

“Actually? I’m still full from lunch. Jaxi and Beth were trying to outdo my mom in the kitchen.” He stopped. It hit him. “My God, Hope. I’m sorry. It’s Christmas. You could have come over…”

He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Suggesting she should have joined them was completely wrong, and yet completely right.

She saved him, patting his cheek almost playfully as she passed him en route to the fridge.

“You can stop being embarrassed by my lack of family, okay? Mom left years ago, Dad is gone. I have no idea where my sister is…but it’s okay. I’m living here because I like Rocky. And the shop is doing well.” She paused then wrinkled her nose. “Well enough, at least.”

He nodded in sympathy. “First years are the hardest, I hear.”

The microwave was warming her food before she turned back to face him. “So really, it’s okay. Now, you want another drink? Or do you want to get back to the family? It’s been nice to have your company, but I don’t think you want to watch me eat.”

Matt glanced at the table, covered with piles of organized material. “You eating in the living room?”

“Planned on it, and watching
The Sound of Music
. Tradition, you know.”

The microwave pinged, but he caught her wrist before she could open it. “Hope, why did you let me help you with the quilt without arguing with me?”

She leaned back and crossed her arms in front of her as she looked him up and down. A slow smile snuck out and she laughed. “Because you were honestly interested. And I’m never going to say no if you really want to do something. I don’t like charity, Matt, but I have no problem with a friend giving me a hand because they want to.”

Something in her logic hit him hard enough his knees nearly buckled. His heart pounded as if he’d just run a gold-medal sprint, and the satisfaction filling him reminded him of the sheer excitement of Christmas morning when he was young.

Delight, unexpected but fresh and new in how it arrived.

Heading back to the house was impossible. Not because there was anything there he wanted to avoid, but because there was something here he didn’t want to leave.

Even if he wasn’t sure what it was, other than a…friend.

He cleared his throat. “Then, if I ask if I can stay and watch the movie with you, because I’d really like to just hang out with you for a while longer, what would you say?”

Hope didn’t hesitate. She pointed to the fridge. “If that’s what you’d like to do, and why you’d like to do it, then I’d say, ‘Could you pour me a glass of iced tea and bring it with you when you come to the living room?’ Because my hands are full.”

Hope kept her eyes glued to the television, snuggled into the couch a little deeper and fought an epic battle. Hypocrisy didn’t feel good, no matter who delivered it. She’d promised herself Matt was off the serving shelf. But the sensation stealing over her as she sat next to him and watched singing goatherds for what had to be the millionth time in her life—well, she liked Christopher Plummer plenty, but it wasn’t the sight of him on the screen making her heart race.

And she was not going to muck this up. Hurting Matt? God, she’d cut off her own arm before letting that happen. He obviously wanted to spend time with her. Wasn’t his fault he couldn’t possibly want it to be for the same reason that teased her on a daily basis.

Not to mention during the nights.

Matt stretched and yawned, his left arm slipping farther into the space she’d mentally tagged “hers”. The safe-zone line had been crossed—that was her cue to bounce up and go for more drinks. Or popcorn, or…or something.

“Okay if I pause it?” Matt waved the remote control.

She grinned as she hit her feet. “No problem.”

He smiled back suspiciously. “What’s that look for?”

“I just want to point out you took all of fifteen minutes to assume ownership of that thing.”

“I’m a guy, it’s genetically built into us to cling to the controls.”

Hope laughed as she grabbed their empty glasses. “I’ve heard that. I’ve also heard shock therapy can help deal with it.”

Matt headed down the hall toward the washroom. She watched, enjoying seeing his ass flex before mentally slapping some sense into herself.

It wasn’t going to work, but maybe if she kept telling the lies they’d become true.

She had both hands full when the phone rang a couple minutes later.

“You want me to get that?” Matt called.

“Please.” It was probably her friend Donna making a post-eggnog holiday shout-out.

Hope finished topping up their glasses and turned, nearly tipping both full loads over his broad chest, he stood so close behind her. “Shit, warn a girl, will you?”

“It’s for you.” He held out the phone like it was a snake. “I gotta go.”

What?
She scrambled to put down the glasses. “Oh. Okay.”

He was already gathering his coat and slipping on his shoes. His face was white, body stiff. My God, what was wrong? Whoever was on the line could wait a few minutes while she discovered what was going on. She spoke into the phone. “Hang on a second.”

“Hey, no problem, sis.”

Hope froze, her sister’s voice echoing in her ear loud enough he must have heard. Hope slapped a hand over the mouthpiece. “Shit, Matt. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, digging in his pocket, looking for something. “Nothing to apologize for.”

Hope snapped the phone to her mouth. “Helen? I’ll call you back.” She hung up and tossed it onto the counter, grabbed hold of his jacket and yanked him to a halt in the process of actually stepping through the exterior door. “Wait.”

Matt’s broad shoulders filled the doorframe, the thick layers of his winter coat like armor facing her. “Hope, I just…”

“Damn it, don’t you leave right now.”

Matt spun. “You’re swearing at me? Fuck that. If I want to leave, I’ll leave. That’s what you said, isn’t it? That if it’s something I really want to do, then I can do it. And right now I want to go. In fact I want to go and get a stiff drink, and since I’m too fucking responsible to get shit-faced except when I’m safely at home, I’m gone.”

She grabbed his collar, one side in each hand. “Fine. Go drink yourself into a bloody stupor. But this goes two ways. There’s something I want before you run.”

Logic flew out the window. It was the last thing she should do and yet it had to be done. She yanked him forward.

He was an unmovable wall, but she was strong enough the frantic jerk brought her to the mountain of his body. She lifted her chin and slammed her mouth against his, kissing fiercely. His hands hovered in midair for a moment, visible in her peripheral vision before she closed her eyes and simply took what she wanted.

His hands didn’t stay unoccupied for long. She was lifted off her feet. The bulk of his muscular body shoved her backward as his tongue thrust between her lips. Her back hit the wall the same moment he switched from accepting her kisses to consuming her. She couldn’t groan, couldn’t let out anything but a brief gasp when he ripped his lips from hers and bit her neck, the entire front of his body rammed against hers, pinning her in place.

Hope raised her legs and wrapped them around his hips, squeezing as tight as she could with her still relatively strong dancer’s muscles. If she didn’t get her point across one way, he was going to hear it loud and clear another.

Oh God, he thrust his hips forward, making contact with her core, and his name burst from her, exploding like a cry for help. She clutched his head, jerking his hair to drag his mouth back into range so she could kiss him again. Excitement simmered in her core, tingles of pleasure radiating out from where he rubbed insistently against her, the solid ridge in the front of his jeans a magnet she was determined to stay connected with.

And his kisses? She melted under his assault. Heated, wicked, violent even. Burning and stripping away some of the pain, some of her lingering frustrations.

He slowed as she did, one hand cradling her head, lifting her chin higher to allow him to cover her mouth more easily. His tongue swept smoothly over her lips, hot breath flashing over her cheek and neck as his left hand cupped her ass and pulsed her against his groin slower and slower.