Always Remember (20 page)

“Mine,” she said as she headed for the door, tears streaming down her face. “My baby. My responsibility.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jessie watched Nate hobble from the barn to the main house, the limp he’d developed after his tumble from Diablo growing worse with each passing day. And even though she’d managed to avoid him since their encounter at the park, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d been doing a little avoiding himself.

Sitting on the porch swing, the late evening sun warming her face, she stared after his retreating figure.

Enough was enough. If she didn’t make the first move now, she might never have the guts or the chance to face him again. She pushed herself from the chair, flexed her fingers as she sauntered across the yard. Nervousness tightened her stomach, dampened her palms. Rapping her knuckles against the frame of the screen door, she waited and worried. Would Nate slam the door in her face?

God, she’d missed him. A day and a half without seeing him and it felt like an eternity. His tall frame filled the tiny entranceway, expected, yet unexpected, taking her breath away.

“Evening, Jess.”

She forced a smile, self-conscious, uncertain, feeling suddenly foolish. “Howdy, neighbor.”

“Everything all right at home? How’s Maude doing?”

“As well as can be expected. George was here to see her again this morning. Did you know he calls you his bread-and-butter patient?” Another grin escaped, this one more relaxed. “Are you hiding from him, Nate? Chicken he might decide you need one of his monstrous needles up your—”

“I’ve been busy, Jess. We’re mending fences up in the north pasture.”

His face was shadowed in the dim hallway, but she’d have to be blind not to notice the firm clench to his jaw, the rigid stance that screamed
stay away
. Well, too bad. She wasn’t staying away any longer. She couldn’t. In fact, she wasn’t leaving till she got a whole lot closer than they were right now. She dragged the door open. Nate stepped back, caught himself, his gaze narrowing on her face, guarded, wary.

“I think you made a mistake, Jess.”

Amused by his unexpected nervousness, her own eased. “How’s that?”

“You live down the lane. Remember? Want me to show you the way home?”

“No need.”

When she stepped inside and let the screen door bang shut behind her, he took another step back, caught himself again and froze. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve known each other a long time now, haven’t we, Nate?”

“Yeah.”

Her voice softened to a purr. “I used to watch you do your John Wayne swagger after football practice. You fooled everyone but me.”

His brows lowered into a frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” She stepped closer, pleased when he didn’t shift away, and stopped only inches from his chest. “But tonight, you look a might too painful for even that.”

His mouth barely moved. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jessie slid her arms around his waist and pressed her fingers into the stiff muscles of his lower back. Nate jumped like a steer being branded, clamped his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, gentle but firm enough to make her cautious.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to give you a massage...like I used to.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up, then down.

Carefully, Jessie kneaded the muscles, feeling his tension ease, the strain of the day’s labor drain away. His hold on her shoulders gentled, giving her more freedom to touch him wherever she wanted.

“Like you used to?”

She nodded, silent, watching, waiting, hoping he wouldn’t send her away. His nostrils flared slightly as though breathing in the scent of her. His eyes glowed, feverish, intense. Did he remember what they’d shared? Hearts and bodies joined.

“Nate—”

His finger played slowly across her lips, silencing her. “Where?”

Anywhere
was her first thought. But she didn’t mean for it to lead
there
. She didn’t want him thinking or remembering. She dropped her hands to her sides. “Living room floor.”

A lopsided grin curved his mouth. “Kinky, huh?”

“Hush. You sound like a lecherous old man.”

“We get our pleasures wherever we can find them, sweetheart.”

Grabbing his shirtsleeve, she dragged him around, then gave him a shove square in the middle of his back. “Move, cowboy, before I change my mind and go home.”

He limped down the hallway into the living room, hesitating as he glanced from her to the hardwood floor, one brow raised, a teasing grin curving his mouth. “The bed would be more comfortable.”

She’d be a fool to agree. “Get on the floor.”

With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Nate squatted and eased onto the floor, his pain obvious. As he lay face down, a tiny piece of her wished she’d said yes to his invitation. The bed would be more comfortable.

More dangerous, too.

Straddling his body, she dragged the tail of his shirt from his waistband and set to work. His skin felt hot to the touch, the muscles knotted and hard. As Jessie worked her way along his lower back, the heat of his flesh — his desire — spread into her cold fingers and hands, up her arms, until she felt warm all over.

Too warm.

Pushing the hair back from her face, she tried to concentrate. But beneath her fingers, she felt corded muscle, bridled strength, the power of a man.

“Your pants are in the way.” Laughter shuddered through his big body, vibrated through her fingertips. Her ears heated with embarrassment. “Get your mind out of your pants or I’m leaving.”

“It was your suggestion, Jess.”

But the laughter was still there, hidden in the words, muffled by the sleeve of his shirt. She swatted him gently across the shoulder. “I only need you to pull them down a couple of inches. Think you can manage that without straining yourself?”

He shifted and tried to roll over. Jessie stood to give him room, watching as he rolled to his back, unbuckled his belt, and snapped open the button on his jeans. She caught her breath at the sight of his flat belly, the sound of the zipper sliding down, the memory of what lay beneath the fabric of his jeans.

Unleashed power.

Look away.

The thought came a moment too late, a split second after she raised her gaze to his face and met his eyes, recognized the banked fires of his desire. She planted her hands on her hips and glared down at him. “Are you finished?”

“Almost.”

He grabbed the sides of his jeans, wiggled his hips like a stripper she’d once seen in a bar her mother had forbidden her to enter, and grinned as though he knew exactly what his every move did to her. He probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

“Care to offer me a hand?”

She glanced skyward and stared at the white pattern on the ceiling. “Just tell me when you’re done.”

The man at her feet gave a little moan. Pain or pleasure? Jessie closed her eyes and tried to banish the thoughts careening wildly through her mind. The heat of his flesh beneath her palms, the sound of his heart pounding in her ears, the feel of him sliding naked against her, into her...

What was he doing? Stripping completely? “Well?”

“You can look again, Jess. I’m decent.”

“And I’m the Queen of England,” she muttered as she crouched down over him again. Her gaze settled on his newly exposed flesh and she nearly stopped breathing.

You can do this, Jess. Concentrate. Put your hands on his hips. Don’t think about how warm and smooth his skin is, or how good it feels to touch him. Concentrate. Then get the hell out of here before it’s too late and you do something foolish. Like beg him to take you upstairs and make crazy love to you.

Silence. Thank goodness he was quiet. If he started talking and distracted her, no telling what she might do to him, where her hands might wander. A tiny tremor rippled through him.

What was he thinking?

Never mind.

She knew exactly what he was thinking.

Much longer and he’d roll
her
onto the floor, give her a massage she’d never forget. Outside and in.

Sweat beaded on Nate’s upper lip, along his forehead. He pressed his face into his sleeve and tried to concentrate on something else.
Anything.

They still had a mile of fence to replace before they moved the cattle up to the north pasture. If he was lucky, they’d be finished before the last of the snow melted.

God, that felt good, like heaven on earth, like a beer after a long day’s work, like making love—

Okay, that wasn’t working.

Sara...maybe if he thought about his daughter.

Ever since she’d returned home, Sara had been acting strange, moping about, pale and withdrawn, staying in her room more often than she ventured out. He’d even tried to talk to her, ask her what was wrong.

Good God.

Jessie’s hands on his body felt so familiar, so good, it hurt to stay still and not respond. An image of her loving him in the night flashed behind his closed eyes. Was it possible? Wouldn’t he remember joining his body with hers? Maybe if he rolled over, caught her in his arms, kissed her breathless, she might let him—

Whoa, boy, settle down. Think of anything but Jess in your bed, in your arms, naked—

“Dad?”

Nate stiffened. The hands on his back stilled. Jessie’s knees pressed against his side. A different kind of tension shuddered through him as the screen door slammed shut.

Dare he get up off the floor? Nope. Better to stay on his stomach, hide the evidence of his arousal. Sara wouldn’t understand. Then again, she was nearly eighteen. Nate remembered being young only too well. Jessie and him, hormones gone wild.

Be cool. Be quiet. Maybe she’ll go away.

“Dad?”

Along with the sound of her boots tromping across the floor, approaching the entryway, he caught the strain in her voice.

“I—oh, excuse me. I didn’t know you were busy.”

Nate raised his head from his folded arms. “Come on in. Jess was just giving me a massage, trying to fix my sore back.”

Right, and another two minutes, you would have been fixing her.

As if she’d heard his thoughts, Jessie scrambled off him, landed on her rear end, then leapt to her feet. Nate shifted slightly, enough to notice the flush that darkened her cheeks.

“We were finished anyway,” she explained in a breathless rush. “And I was just leaving.”

Right about now, Nate wished he could leave with her. As she ran from the room, the humor of the situation hit him. They’d been caught like two randy teenagers, only it was the daughter, not the parents, terminating their foreplay. Now, how did he go about hiding his aroused state from his perceptive daughter?

“So what’s up, squirt?”
Other than me.
Nonchalant, pretend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Like his world hadn’t shifted and tilted for the second time since Jessie’s arrival.

Sara snatched the pile of mail from the coffee table and slid onto the floor beside him. “You didn’t tell me you hurt your back. Diablo? You know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe you need professional help.”

“You mean a shrink?” He reached out and ruffled her hair. Thanks to Jessie, his back did feel better, but now he had another ache he wished she’d stuck around to cure. Suddenly, the floor felt hard and uncomfortable. “Sara, Diablo and I have an agreement.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sometimes I think I should’ve been in charge of you instead of the other way around.” She ducked out from under his hand and looked him square in the eye. “You realize, of course, that what you two were doing in here was totally unacceptable.”

Laughter burst from his chest.

“Well, I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”

No, she wasn’t a kid. She’d grown into a beautiful young woman, as mature and self-reliant as her mother. How had he gotten so lucky? She’d never given him a lick of trouble, not the way Jessie and him had tested their parents’ patience.

Sara sorted listlessly through the envelopes, tossing the bills aside before spreading her favorite magazine on the floor between them. Nate noted the pallor of her cheeks, the bluish smudges beneath her eyes. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but feared the question would send her running up to her bedroom like last time.

Better that he be patient and wait for her to come to him. When she was ready to talk, she’d do it in her own good time.

He bumped her on the shoulder. “What are you reading?”

“Did you know Miss Adams can’t have any children?” Sara asked. “That’s too bad because I think she’d make a terrific mom.”

For a split second, Nate stopped breathing. “What?”

“It says so right here.” She tapped her index finger against the headline, but Nate didn’t need to read the words as memories stirred and burst free.

I’m not protected.

I am.

Nate pried the paper from Sara’s hand, scrambled to his feet, and barely managed to grab hold of his jeans before they fell off his hips. Sara could think whatever she damn well wanted about
that
.

What had he said to Jessie at the park?
Have you ever raised a child, held her in your arms?