Temporary Husband (13 page)

“Wrong. Belle’s place was so packed because word spread that a Mrs. Jake Hondo had wandered in to do her shopping. They were all curious to meet the woman brave enough to take me on.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “I wanted you to go to Two Forks to avoid all those nice, curious people. In particular, I’d hoped to avoid Randolph.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, except for him, Chesterfield’s an awfully friendly town. I probably met just about everyone. What a wonderful place to celebrate the holidays.” She slanted him another look. “I wonder why Randolph took such a dislike to me.”

“I believe he explained that.”

“Then he wasn’t lying about the inheritance?”

“No.”

Another thought occurred to her. “You must have been standing there a long time to have heard all that.”

“Long enough.”

“Jake—”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Although he denies the relationship, Randolph’s my cousin—a distant cousin, but a cousin nonetheless. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Why what?”

“Why does he deny the relationship?”

“Because my father, Weston Chesterfield the third, wasn’t married to my mother. Ours is an accidental connection, not a legitimate one and he resents it like hell. I may carry the blood of a Chesterfield, but I’m not one according to the law.”

“But that’s not the only reason he resents you,” she guessed.

“No. His anger intensified when my grandfather left his ranch to me—with one small condition, that is.”

“Marriage?”

“You got it.”

“And if you hadn’t married?”

“The ranch would have gone to Randolph.”

“But why would your grandfather add such an odd provision?” she asked. “Why force you to marry?”

“Because he was a meddling old fool who wanted great-grandchildren.”

“But—”

“This discussion is over.” He spun onto a gravel shoulder beneath a huge cottonwood tree and switched off the ignition. Open ranch land stretched in all directions. “It’s your turn to drive.”

Wisely abandoning her previous line of questioning, she asked, “Where are we?”

“Close to the north end of my property. No one ever comes this way except my men, and they’re several clips west of here working my grandfather’s spread. We should have this stretch of road all to ourselves.”

“No one to run into?” she teased.

He didn’t deny it. “It’ll be a hell of a lot safer teaching you here than on the road into Chesterfield, that’s for sure.”

“Trying to mitigate damages?” she asked wryly.

“Somebody better. My insurance coverage only goes so far. You ready?”

To her surprise, instead of exiting the vehicle, he slid over until they were joined hip to thigh. In the next instant, he’d pulled her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms.

“I’m not complaining, you understand,” she said, snuggling deeper into his embrace. “But I thought you were going to teach me to drive a stick shift.”

“I am.”

She grinned. “I might find it a little difficult learning while sitting like this.”

“Fat lot you know. I think this is a perfect learning position.”

“But I can’t reach the clutch from here.” She stuck out her foot to demonstrate.

“You don’t need to reach it. You already know where all the various parts are. It’s how they work together that you need to learn.”

She swallowed. “We’re still talking about driving, right?” she asked in a husky voice.

He lifted a sooty eyebrow. “What else would we be talking about?”

She had no intention of answering that one. “Maybe we should get started,” she murmured.

“Fine. Let’s talk about first gear.” He settled her more comfortably on his lap, his warm breath caressing her
mouth. “First gear is where you start off. It’s sort of like…well…like a first kiss.”

“A kiss.”

“A first kiss,” he said, correcting her.

She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “There’s a difference?”

“You better believe it. If you’re smart and want to keep everything running smoothly, you ease into a first kiss, slow and gentle. Like this.” His mouth brushed hers, lingering, probing.

Her eyes drifted closed. “Slow and gentle,” she managed to repeat.

“That’s right. If you begin with a light, easy touch, you’ll slip right into gear without any resistance.” His tongue eased past her lips, caressing the softness inside. “See?”

She moaned. “I think so. Maybe we better make sure. Why don’t you show me again?”

He didn’t need any further prompting, but gave her a thorough grounding in the complexities of first gear. “I think we’re moving toward second,” he murmured after several minutes.

“How do you know?”

“The closer you get, the more the engine hums. When it starts to strain, it’s a warning that first isn’t getting the job done. Then you drop into the next gear.”

“Second, right?” She tilted back her head, giving him access to the hollow at the base of her neck.

“Right.” His mouth followed the length of her throat. “Now if first is a kiss, second is a touch.” His hand slid from her shoulder downward. “It’s just a tease, really. A prelude to more exciting things to come.”

She shivered beneath his playful fingers. “Does it last long?”

“Depends on where you are.” He fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. “And what sort of impediments
are in your way. If your progress is interrupted, you might even have to go back to first.”

“And if there aren’t any?” The edges of her shirt fell open. “Impediments, I mean?”

He stroked his index finger along the line of her bra. “You hit the gas to get things moving faster. When the engine starts to strain again, then you push for third.”

It was an effort to breathe. “What’s third like?”

“Third is a bolder caress.”

She licked her lips. “How bold?”

He unhooked the front of her bra and parted the silky cups. “This bold.” He demonstrated and her breath stopped completely. “You’re picking up speed, moving faster down the road. The tempo accelerates with third.”

“I remember.” She shuddered beneath his touch, burying her face in his shoulder. “But I never went past third. I was afraid to go any faster.”

“Then we’ll shift into fourth together.” He turned her so she faced him, her knees hugging his hips, his corded thigh muscles like taut ropes beneath her bottom. “Fourth is all the way, sweetpea. There’s no turning back. It’s a hard, fast ride with the engine wide open. It feels great. And for a while you think it’s right where you should be. Where you belong.”

His hands had slipped to places better suited to the velvet darkness of a moonlit night. The breath sobbed from her lungs. Even as she surged toward some unobtainable peak, she knew she’d never reach it. Not here. Not now. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “It’s not enough!”

“That’s when you shift into fifth.” He pulled her tight against him so every move he made, every breath he took was echoed by her own body. “Fifth is that final release. Fifth takes you to the end of the road.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, his scent filling her nostrils, his breath hot against her ear, his taste sweetening
her tongue. She was afraid to move, afraid to break the connection pulsing between them. “And after fifth?” Her words were labored, her voice nearly inaudible.

“There’s nowhere else to go after that and only one possible option.”

“What option?”

His mouth sought hers, his tongue breaching her lips in a soft, gentle caress. “You can throw it into reverse and start all over again.”

“Oh, yes!” The words escaped on a sigh. “Take me for another ride.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jake came out of the truck in one fluid motion. Dusty, Buster and Chick stood in a row, all three scuffing dirt with their toes and avoiding his eyes. “I-just passed Mad Dog burning up the field a mile north of here. How did he get out?”

No one said a word.

“My prize stallion is in the same pasture as my prize bull and you three have nothing to say? What do you suppose the odds are that one or both of my animals will end up as hamburger meat on tonight’s dinner table?” He glared from one set of guilty features to the next, sexual frustration erupting into anger. “Well? Who’s gonna start talkin’ first?”

Dusty cleared his throat. “Guess that’s me. It was…ah…it was an accident.”

Jake’s eyebrows arched skyward. “Mad Dog escaped out of a padlocked stall by accident? How’d he manage that, sprout wings?”

Wynne climbed from the truck and joined Jake. “Buster? You were asked a question. What happened?”

Buster raised tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry, Uncle Jake. I just wanted to show Chick how to ride a horse.”

The color bleached from Jake’s face and he fought to keep his knees from buckling. “You let that horse out?
You
?”

Buster nodded miserably. “I saw where the key was hanging and thought I’d see if your horse would let me ride him. He was real sweet. He followed me outside just like a puppy dog.”

“That…that
puppy dog
is the meanest son of a b—gun on this ranch. If he didn’t sire such prize-winning offspring, I’d put a quick end to his sorry existence. You could have been—” He closed his eyes, fighting not to think about the “could-have-beens.”

Chick released a hiccuping sob and launched himself at Jake’s knees, nearly toppling him.

“It was my fault, boss,” Dusty muttered. “When I saw the kid with Mad Dog, I sort of lost it. I started hollerin’ and that crazy hoss rolled back his eyes and kicked up his heels. I gotta confess, though. The kid has real good reflexes. He rolled clear of Mad Dog’s shenanigans, grabbed his little brother by the scruff of the neck and skedaddled onto the porch.”

Jake’s hands balled into fists. “I thought I asked you to watch them, Dusty. You call this watching them?”

“I only turned my back for a minute. I swear. Was showin’ them around, ‘splaining how stuff works and the next thing I know, they took off on me.”

“Oh, Buster,” Wynne said with a sigh. “You know better than to disappear without telling the person in charge where you’re going. You also know better than to touch someone else’s property without permission.”

“And if he didn’t before, he’s sure going to learn now,” Jake stated in no uncertain terms. He stabbed a finger first at Buster and then at Chick. “Both of you. Get to the barn and wait for me.”

“What are you going to do to them?” Wynne asked apprehensively.

“We’re going to have a man-to-man talk. And if they’re lucky they’ll be able to sit down sometime next week.” He didn’t wait for a response, but turned to Dusty. “As for you…If you want to keep your job, not to mention your hide, you’ll round up the men and go corral that horse.”

“Yessir, boss. I’ll get right on it,” he said and raced toward the Jeep as fast as his stubby legs would take him.

“Jake?”

Wynne touched his arm and he deliberately kept his back to her. If he looked at her, he’d never be able to discipline the boys. One glimpse of her huge, pleading eyes and all his good intentions would melt like ice beneath a noonday sun. “What is it?”

“Make sure they understand what they did wrong. Otherwise they’ll never learn.”

It took him a minute to digest her words. “What did you say?” he whispered.

“A ranch in Texas is a lot different than an apartment in Maryland. I don’t think they quite realize that yet.”

Slowly he turned to look at her and the trust he read in her calm expression left him fighting for control. “You’re not afraid I’ll hurt them?” he questioned roughly.

She actually laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know you’d never do that, despite what Randolph said. Buster shouldn’t have touched Mad Dog. And as you said, if he doesn’t realize it now, he will as soon as you speak to him.”

He cleared his throat. “I won’t be long.”

“There’s no hurry,” she replied. “I’ll start dinner while you deal with the boys.”

He couldn’t answer. Instead he nodded and headed for the barn. The boys were waiting just inside the door. Buster stood in front of his brother, his expression one
of stoic resolve. The phrase “taking it like a man” leapt to mind and Jake studied them in silence, waiting. Buster broke first.

“We’re sorry for what we did, Uncle Jake. And it won’t never happen again. We promise.”

Chick peeked apprehensively around his brother and nodded, before popping his thumb into his mouth and sucking furiously.

Jake inclined his head. “That’s good to know. Because if I can’t trust your word, I’ll have to restrict you to the house instead of having you help around the ranch.” Surprise warred with exhilaration on their expressive faces.

“Really? You mean it? We can help you?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it.”

“We promise!” Buster stated fervently. “We’ll do everything you say.”

Chick tugged on his brother’s arm and whispered something.

“Okay, I’ll ask.” Buster glanced at Jake. “You want both of us to help, right?”

“Yep. A ranch this size needs every pair of hands available.” He gave Buster a stern look. “But there’s a lot of dangerous animals and equipment on a ranch. One thoughtless mistake can get you seriously hurt—like with Mad Dog. I know you wouldn’t want Chick injured through your carelessness.”

“No, sir,” came the somber reply.

“That means you can’t do anything without asking permission first. You got that?”

“Got it.”

Chick gave a decisive nod of agreement.

“Okay. The only problem is…Your little stunt today has caused Dusty and my men a lot of extra work, which means they’re going to have trouble getting all their chores done.”

Buster didn’t hesitate. “Maybe we could do some of those chores.”

Jake pretended to consider. “You know, I think that’s an excellent way to make amends.” He hooked a thumb toward a pair of pitchforks propped in the corner of the barn. “Let’s see how good you are at pitching hay.” He watched in satisfaction as the boys scrambled to obey. A little hard work and they’d be too worn-out to get into any more mischief. He hoped.

Which just left Wynne. He rubbed a hand across his jaw and grinned. That shouldn’t be much of a problem, either. If he put his mind to it, he didn’t doubt he could think of one or two activities to keep her occupied. Like reviewing what she’d learned about driving a stick shift. Only this time, he’d make sure they didn’t just talk about fifth gear.