Hawk's Way Grooms (20 page)

They'd ridden horseback to the stock tank, because she'd said she had something important to discuss with him in private. While their horses had taken a drink, she'd popped the question. After his refusal, she'd gone to work convincing him.

“You have to help me, Colt,” she pleaded. “My first kiss with Huck has to be perfect, because I'll be remembering it the rest of my life. I don't want anything to go wrong.”

“That's what makes the first kiss memorable,” he argued. “Things go wrong.”

She shook her head, her long blond hair shimmering like corn silk in the sunlight. “Please. Do this for me.”

He'd been aware of his attraction to Jenny from the first moment he'd looked into her bluer-than-blue eyes, but Huck had been the first one to speak of her. Colt had felt honor-bound to wait and see if things developed between Jenny and Huck before he made his move. To his dismay, Jenny had said yes to Huck's overtures.

More than once Colt had thought of trying to steal Jenny away from Huck. But he knew in his heart that he couldn't live with himself if he betrayed his friend like that. It would taint what he felt for Jenny. So he went along and remained a good friend to both of them.

See how virtue had been rewarded? Jenny wanted him to kiss her first!

More than anything in the world he wanted to hold Jenny Wright in his arms. But he had panicked when she came up with the harebrained notion that he should teach her to kiss. Would she be able to tell from his kiss how much he liked her? What if he got carried away and did something that scared her?

“I'll do this on one condition,” he conceded at last.

“Anything,” she promptly agreed.

“You never
ever
tell Huck.”

“Why not?”

“Believe me, he wouldn't understand.”

“Why not?”

“It's a guy thing,” he said. “Promise,” he insisted.

She crossed her heart with her forefinger. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.”

“I guess that'll do,” he said.

“Okay, I'm ready,” she said.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans. “I'm not. I have no idea where to start.”

“Why not put your arms around me?” she suggested.

He reached forward at the same time she reached up, and their arms knocked into each other.

“Oops.”

“Sorry.”

“See what I mean?” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I guess I'll need to stand still while Huck puts his arms around me. You want to try again?”

“Sure.” He slid his left arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. But she didn't move.

She looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“You need to take a step to get closer,” he instructed. He applied pressure to her back again, and this time she responded by closing the distance between them until her breasts were a hairsbreadth from his chest.

“Is this close enough?”

There was no spit left in his mouth, and he croaked, “Yeah. That's probably close enough.”

She looked up expectantly. “Now what?”

“Huck will probably put his hand on your head to angle it in the right direction.”

“Okay. I'm ready. Go ahead.”

He'd only intended to palm her head with his hand, but somehow his fingers got tangled in her hair. “You've got really soft hair,” he murmured.

He saw her cheeks pinken. “Thank you. Do you think Huck will do what you're doing? I mean, slide his fingers through my hair like that?”

“Why do you ask?”

She gave a negligent shrug. “It feels good.”

Colt reminded himself he was holding Huck's girl. “He might run his hands through your hair. But don't worry if he doesn't. Every guy is different.”

“Okay. Now what?”

“I'm a little taller than Huck, so some of what I'm saying might need to be adjusted for height,” he said, trying to remain objective. He reminded himself to keep his hips apart from hers, so she wouldn't discover that his body was reacting as though this game of hers was the real thing. “I can bend down to you, or you can come up on tiptoe to reach me,” he explained.

“Or Huck and I could move toward each other—me up, him down.” She frowned thoughtfully. “It would be easier if I had my hands on Huck's shoulders. When should I do that?”

“Can you get your arms up between mine?” he asked.

She slowly slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. “How's that?”

His heart felt like a caged bird, racketing around inside his ribs. “That's fine,” he managed to rasp. “Now, you slide up on tiptoe, and I'll lower my head.”

As she came up on tiptoe she lost her balance. She grabbed him around the neck, and his arm tightened around her, pressing her soft, warm breasts against his chest. He met her startled gaze and said, “Are you all right?”

“I think so. Whew! See why I need the practice? Who knew there were so many pitfalls to a simple kiss?”

He started to push her away, but she clung to his neck and said, “Let's keep going. What is Huck likely to do next?”

Kiss you till he can't see straight,
Colt thought. But he said, “Let's see how good you are at hitting a target.”

She grinned. “You mean, can I find his lips with mine?”

“Give it a shot.”

Her fingertips at his nape urged his head down toward hers. He kept his eyes locked with hers until he couldn't bear the excitement anymore, then closed his eyes and waited for her lips to touch his. When they didn't, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her brow furrowed. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“I shouldn't be the one doing the kissing,” she said. “Huck will want to be the aggressor.”

“The
aggressor?
” Colt said.

“You know, the wolf stalking his prey, the Neanderthal dragging his woman back to his cave.”

“Where do women get these ideas?” he said, shaking his head.

“From men,” she said with a grin. “Admit it. Men like to make the first move. What would Huck think if
I
kissed
him
first?”

“That you liked him,” Colt said flatly.

She looked thoughtful, then shook her head. “I'm an old-fashioned girl. Huck has to be the one to kiss first.”

Which meant
he
had to kiss
her
first, Colt realized. “Let's get this over with.” He leaned down, but before he could kiss her, she put her fingertips to his lips. “What's wrong now?” he asked in exasperation.

“Huck wouldn't do it like that.”

“Like what?”

“In a big hurry.”

“He might.”

“He'll take his time. He'll make it count. He'll know how important this first kiss is. Do it right,” she said.

“Do it right?” he muttered. “I'll do it right. Watch me
do it right.
”

He threaded his fingers through her hair again, then used his hold to angle her head back so her lips were aimed up at his. He lowered his head slowly, keeping his eyes on hers,
making it count.
This was the first time he was going to kiss the girl he loved. And he wanted her to know how important this moment was.

He felt a shock as their lips touched, and backed off to stare at her. She looked dazed. He lowered his mouth over hers a second time, feeling the firmness of her lips and then the supple give as she responded to him. He pressed a little harder and felt her hands slide into his hair.

He wanted to taste her, so he teased his tongue along the edge of her lips, waiting for her to open to him.

She broke the kiss abruptly and leaned back to stare at him, her pupils dilated, her lips wet, her body trembling. “What were you doing with your tongue?”

“I was tasting you.”

“Will Huck want to do that?”

“I would if I were him,” he said simply.

“Why?”

“Because it feels good.”

“It makes me feel funny inside.” She laughed nervously and said, “Look at me. I'm shaking.”

“You want to quit?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I'd better practice if I'm going to get it right with Huck. I'm ready now, if you want to try again.”

He leaned down and touched her mouth lightly with his once, and then again, teasing kisses that urged her to accept what was coming. He felt her lips become less rigid, felt them ease apart as his tongue slid along the crease, heard her moan as his tongue slid inside her mouth. Her hands clutched his hair as her hips arched instinctively into his.

Then she was jerking herself away and backing up, her hand rubbing at her mouth, her eyes wide, her body trembling. “Ohmigod. What am I doing? What are we doing?”

He stood without moving. He saw her eyes drop to the thick ridge along the zipper of his jeans and knew what had frightened her. But that was going to happen to Huck, too. She might as well know it now, as later.

“It's all right,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “What happened to you—to us—is normal. It's what happens between a man and a woman when they kiss. I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“Will Huck—? Of course he will,” she said, thrusting an agitated hand through her hair. “I had no idea it would be like that. So…powerful. You stop thinking, you stop being a rational person, your body just sort of…explodes.”

“Yeah,” he said, huffing out a breath of air. “That pretty well describes it.”

She looked up at him earnestly and said, “Thanks, Colt. I'm going to be forever in your debt. There aren't many friends who'd be willing to help out like this.”

“Anytime,” he said.

Colt became aware of a horse ripping up grass with his teeth near his head and opened his eyes, reluctantly letting go of the memory. He leaned up on his elbow and looked down at Jenny. She was sound asleep, her breathing quiet and even. He wondered if her first kiss with Huck had been everything she'd hoped. He'd never asked, and she'd never spoken about it.

“This is for you from Huck,” he murmured as he leaned over and gently touched her lips with his. “A kiss goodbye.”

T
OO LATE
, J
ENNY REALIZED THE TRIP TO
the stock tank in the south pasture had been a big mistake. It reminded her of something she'd chosen to forget: Her “first kiss” with Huck had come nowhere close to arousing in her the emotions of her “practice kiss” with Colt.

She had blamed the disturbing difference on the fact a girl could only get her “first kiss” once, and due to her own stupidity, she'd had her first kiss with the wrong man. It was only natural that her “second kiss” wasn't quite so exciting. Of course she'd loved Huck's kisses, because she'd loved Huck. But the spark she'd felt with Colt, that delicious electricity—that total loss of shame and scruples—had never occurred with Huck.

Since lying beside Colt yesterday in the shade of the live oak, those bewitching memories had made their insidious way back into her consciousness. Jenny's mind had begun replaying the moment when Colt's lips first touched hers, when his tongue first traced the seam of her mouth, when she first tasted him.

It was simple curiosity, she told herself, that made her wonder if that electricity had merely been the result of a “first kiss,” or whether it would happen if they kissed again. She was ashamed of herself for what she was thinking, but she couldn't get the idea out of her head.

What if Colt could make her feel more than Huck ever had? What if she hadn't been kissed first by the wrong man? What if she'd been engaged to him?

That thought was too painful to face, since it would've meant she'd wasted ten years of her life—and Huck's. If she was going to have second thoughts, she should've had them a long time ago.

When?
a voice asked.
After Huck was graduated from the Air Force Academy, he was never around for more than a few days at a time. You were busy with your brothers. You barely had time to make school lunches, let alone worry about your love life. It was convenient for both of you to be “in love.” There was no time to stop and think. Until now.

Jenny supposed everyone went through this sort of soul-searching at the time of such a significant loss. But she wasn't getting the answers she'd expected. She found her thoughts—and her eyes—focused more and more on Colt.

Sunday she went to church and surrounded herself protectively with her brothers. If anyone could keep Colt at a distance, it was Sam and Tyler and James and Randy. The idiot man simply shook each brother's hand as he moved past them into the pew and settled himself right beside her. It was a tight squeeze, because the pews weren't that large, and Sam wouldn't move over at first.

Colt finally speared Sam with a look that sent him scooting. “Hi, Jenny,” he said. “I thought you might want company this first Sunday without Huck.”

What were her brothers? Sliced baloney? With four brothers at her side, why did Colt think she needed him?

He shared a hymnal with her and sang the familiar refrains in a strong baritone voice that sent shivers down her spine. She found herself wondering how he would sound whispering love words in her ear.

It wasn't until after church, when everyone crowded around, that she conceded she was grateful for Colt's presence. Her brothers hovered, but they were clearly uncomfortable responding to the offers of condolence.

Colt slid an arm around her waist to hold her close enough that their hips occasionally bumped. He shook hands with the men and pulled several blue-haired old ladies close enough to kiss their cheeks. As though he coped with such emergencies every day, he enfolded Randy in a one-armed embrace when her brother unexpectedly broke into tears.

Colt didn't even let go when Sam and Tyler and James came one at a time to bid her good-bye. They were all big, tall men, like their father had been. Sam and Tyler were dark-haired and brown-eyed, while James had green eyes and chestnut hair. They were dressed in suits, but that didn't make them look particularly civilized. They might have been wolves from a free-roaming pack.

They would have intimidated a lesser man. Colt met them without backing off, staring down Sam when he eyed the way Colt's arm was wrapped around her.

“You look like hell,” Sam said to her. “Get some sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, Sam,” she replied, making a face at him. “I'm trying.”

“Try harder,” Sam said, chucking her gently under the chin. It wasn't a large gesture of affection, but it was the equivalent of a bear hug from Sam. She met his gaze and saw the worry there and smiled to reassure him. “I'll be fine, Sam.”

He turned to Colt and said, “I guess we won't be seeing as much of you, now that Huck's gone.”

Jenny held her breath, waiting for Colt to tell Sam that he'd offered to marry her.

Colt shot her a quick look, but all he said was, “I'll be around for a while.”

Sam was followed by Tyler, who brushed his knuckles against her cheek and said, “Take care of yourself, sis.” He gave Colt a hard look and said, “You be careful now.”

Jenny wasn't sure whether it was an admonition to be careful flying jets, or whether Tyler was warning Colt to watch his step around her.

Colt replied, “I'm always careful.”

James kissed her brow and whispered, “God works in mysterious ways. We can't know what he has planned for us.”

She felt a moment of panic, wondering if James had somehow surmised her unsettling daydreams about Colt. But when she met his gaze, he only looked sad and sympathetic.

“Where's Randy?” Colt asked when her other brothers had all taken their leave.

Jenny looked around the church hall and saw Randy standing in a crowd of teenagers. “He's over there by the Butler twins, Faith and Hope.”

“Let's go get him. My mom has invited the two of you to Sunday dinner at Hawk's Pride.”

She freed herself at last from Colt's embrace and turned to face him, her hands knotted to keep him from reaching for them. “I can't go, Colt.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn't face your parents. Not when I haven't made up my mind yet whether I'm going to marry you.”

“They don't know about my proposal,” Colt said.

“
I
know about it. I wouldn't feel comfortable. Please, Colt. Give them my regrets.”

“I'll tell them now and follow you home. We can pick up something to have for dinner on the way.”

Jenny stared after him as he stalked off, wondering how the situation had gotten so completely out of her control. Her attraction for Colt seemed to be growing stronger by the minute—along with her guilt over the rapidity with which she seemed to be transferring her affections from one man to another.

All I have to do is spend a little more time with Colt, and his faults will begin to show,
Jenny thought as she waited for Colt to return.

She and Colt and Randy spent the afternoon sitting on the floor around the coffee table in the living room playing a game of Scrabble. She found herself fascinated by Colt's hands. Blue veins were prominent in the backs of his hands, and his knuckles bore tiny tufts of black hair. His nails were clean and cut bluntly, and his fingers were long and thick, with callused pads. She imagined what it might feel like if he slid one inside her. And blushed hotly.

“You look kinda warm, Jenny,” Randy said. “You want me to open another window?”

She kept her eyes on the table. “That's a good idea. What's the score?” she asked,

“Colt's beating the pants off you,” Randy said.

Jenny closed her eyes and bit her lip to stop the moan from escaping her throat. She'd had a flashing mental image of Colt tearing off her white cotton underwear—she was wearing Tuesday on Sunday. His hand lay on the table right beside hers, large and strong.

“You have such a big, strong…vocabulary,” Jenny said, catching herself at the last moment.

“Thanks,” Colt said. “I think it's my turn.”

“'Xenophile'?” Randy questioned suspiciously as Colt laid down the
x
and
e
before Randy's two-letter word and then the
p-h-i-l-e.
“What's it mean?”

“Someone who's attracted to foreign things.”

“Like eels and caviar?” Randy asked.

“Like veiled women,” Colt quipped, leering at Jenny.

Jenny picked up a doilie that was covering a hole in the arm of the couch upholstery, held it across her nose and mouth and batted her eyelashes. “Take me away, O Sheikh of Araby!” she said melodramatically.

Randy laughed. “I give up. You win, Colt. Game's over.”

“Not quite yet,” Colt said. He rose and did a swami's bow toward Jenny. “Your wish is my command, O Maiden of the East.”

“Is that East
Texas,
suh?” Jenny said with a deep Southern accent, once again batting her lashes.

Colt grabbed a patterned cotton blanket that was draped across the couch—hiding another worn bit of upholstery—and threw it over Jenny's head as though he were really a sheikh come to kidnap her. While she was laughing uncontrollably, he whisked her up over his shoulder, hauled her into her bedroom and threw her onto the four-poster.

Jenny was still giggling when Colt pulled the blanket off her face. “I don't know when I've had such a good time. Thanks, Colt. I—”

She stopped talking and stared at him. When had he gotten so handsome? Had his cheekbones always been so sharp? His lips so full and wide? She wasn't aware of licking her lips until she heard Colt's sharp intake of air.

She met his gaze and caught a glimpse of something—what?—before his eyes were shuttered.

“Get some rest,” he said as he backed his way out of the room. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

No faults,
she thought with a groan.
Not one damn fault.

She dreamed of a woman in flowing, see-through silks being carried across the desert by a turbanned sheikh riding a magnificent Arabian stallion. They were running from something, but they couldn't escape because the horse kept getting bogged down in the sand. She looked up and realized a jet was falling out of the sky, about to crash right on top of their heads.

Jenny woke up before the jet hit the ground. She sat up in bed breathing hard and staring at the rising sun, wondering how she could have been laughing and playing such games last night when Huck was never coming back.

On Monday, Colt put new shingles on the leaky roof. Shirtless. His broad chest was covered in thick, dark curls. She couldn't help making the comparison to sandy-haired Huck, who'd had very little chest hair and not nearly so much muscle. Colt's shoulders bunched and relaxed as the hammer rose and fell.

She stood mesmerized as a single drop of sweat slid down the center of his back until it met his denim jeans. She found herself fascinated by the way the worn blue cloth molded his buttocks.

No faults there, either,
she conceded.

Tuesday, Colt dug postholes to repair the rotten gate on the corral. “They used to punish cowboys with this job in the old days,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

She found herself entranced by his gaze, unable to look away. His eyes reminded her of sapphires, except they weren't cold, like stone, but warm and welcoming. She noticed the spray of lines at the corners of his eyes where the sun had weathered his skin and realized he wasn't a boy anymore. He was a grown man. A very attractive grown man.

On Wednesday, she sat with Colt on the back porch after supper to drink a chocolate milkshake. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he leaned his head back and swallowed down the thick ice cream. Her body drew up tight as his tongue slipped out to lick the last of the milky chocolate off his upper lip.

“Are you going to drink the rest of that?” he asked, pointing to her half-finished shake.

She held out her frosty glass and said, “Help yourself.”

He put his lips on the edge of the glass where hers had been and watched her as he took a sip. Tasting chocolate. Tasting her.

Her mouth went dry with desire.

She leaped up without excusing herself and ran inside, letting the screen door slam behind her, not stopping until she'd reached her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned back against it, aware of her pounding heart and the ache deep inside her.

She wanted him. It was sinful how much she wanted him. And they hadn't even had the memorial service for Huck.

What's wrong with me? How can I be having such thoughts about Colt when it's Huck I love…loved?

Several loud knocks on the door made her skitter away toward the center of the room. “Who's there?”

“It's me, Colt. Are you all right?”

“No, I'm not all right!” she said.
There's something terribly wrong with me. I can't help thinking of you. Wanting you.