I Cross My Heart (8 page)

“Thanks.” Morgan gave her a smile as she walked inside. “That’s great to hear. The coffee smells wonderful, by the way.”

Bethany had made the coffee for two reasons. Having it available was a gracious gesture and she’d written a whole book about gracious gestures. But the aroma also helped disguise the stale odor that permeated most of the house.

Morgan paused to study the living room. “Crown molding and a pressed tin ceiling. I’ll bet this could be pretty.”

“It used to be. Take out the trashed sofa, the easy chair and that cheap coffee table, put up new window coverings, replace the carpet...”

“I’d bet dollars to donuts there’s hardwood under there.”

“Could be. I was young when the carpet went in, but I have a vague memory of wooden floors.”

Morgan’s eyes lit with enthusiasm. “Are you committed to replacing the carpet?”

Until now, Bethany hadn’t thought about it, but Morgan’s comment made her realize how gratifying it would be to get rid of the hideous, smelly shag. “Yes.”

“So you’ll be ripping the old stuff out, for sure, then?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. If you can locate an X-Acto knife, we can find out what’s under there.”

“Dirt. And God knows what other disgusting stuff you don’t want to know about. Besides, you’ll mess up your clothes.”

“That’s why I wear jeans, boots and sensible shirts. I couldn’t get away with this outfit in the big city, but here it works. Dirt and dead bugs don’t scare me. Hardwood floors will add to the value of the house.”

“I suppose.” At least she’d vacuumed the carpet, although her mother’s old machine no longer worked very well.

“A good hardwood floor might even save the house from being torn down. Plus I live for these kinds of discoveries.”

“Really?”

Morgan laughed. “I know. I’m a real estate geek.”

“Let me see what tools I can find in the kitchen. Come on back.” She led Morgan through the dining room. Anything that would help save the house from the wrecking ball was worth the time. She was also impressed with Morgan’s determination, which was a good quality in a salesperson.

Morgan smiled as they passed through the dining room. “Oh, I love this space.”

“Thanks. Me, too.” After last night, it would never seem the same. This was where she’d kissed Nash, right before they’d made a beeline for her bedroom.

“You’ve been here such a short time, but you’ve already put your stamp on the house with fresh flowers, candles and a nice tablecloth. I’ll bet none of that was here when you arrived.”

“The tablecloth was, and the candlesticks.” Bethany continued on into the kitchen. Those items would always remind her of Nash Bledsoe, fantasy cowboy and lover extraordinaire. That meant she probably shouldn’t keep them. Opening the kitchen junk drawer, she rummaged around and came up with an X-Acto knife. “Aha!”

“Perfect. Is it okay if I put my stuff on your kitchen table? I want both hands free so I can tear into that carpet.”

“Go ahead.” Bethany couldn’t help smiling. “You really get into this, don’t you?”

“I do.” She took the knife and marched back into the living room. “My parents and eight kids lived in a hippie van my entire childhood. My parents and some of my siblings loved it. I hated it. So every home, mine or someone else’s, is precious to me.”

“I imagine it would be.” And the longer they talked about this house, the more Bethany acknowledged that she was more attached to it than she’d realized. Selling it wouldn’t be as easy as she’d first thought.

Morgan knelt by the nearest wall and began to cut through the ancient carpet. It was so threadbare that the job didn’t take long. Caught up in Morgan’s excitement, Bethany sank down next to her.

When Morgan had made a cut about a foot long and six inches on each side, she reached under the flap of carpeting and pulled. Dust flew, and they both coughed. Morgan waved the dust away, ripped through the flimsy padding and gave a shout of triumph.

“Hardwood! Oak, it looks like.” She grinned at Bethany. “You
have
to tear this carpet out and get the floors polished. It would be criminal to put new carpeting in. I’d offer to help take out the old stuff, but my daughter Sarah’s second birthday is in a couple of weeks and it’s shaping up to be a frickin’ coronation, plus I’m nursing little Jonathan, who just turned three months, and...”

“Don’t even think about helping,” Bethany said. “This is my week to settle everything at the Triple G, and if you can take care of the listing, I’ll do the rest.”

“I can definitely take care of the listing. And your ace in the hole is Nash. He could have this carpet out of here in no time. He’s handy.”

“Right.” She got to her feet and hoped Morgan wouldn’t notice that she was blushing. “Although I was planning to assign him to outside renovation first.” Sort of. Unless other, more personal activities took him away from that chore.

“How you make use of his time is up to you, but this floor will be a major selling point so I’d suggest bringing Nash in here to help you.”

“It’s a good idea.” Bethany was desperate to change the subject. “So, why don’t I pour some coffee while you crunch the numbers for me?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Standing, Morgan dusted off her hands. “Someone put a lot of love into building this house. Was it your parents?”

“No. They bought it already built. I don’t remember too much because I was so little, but I think the owners were an older couple who had to move to a warmer climate for the wife’s health.”

“Well, they left behind a gem. Taking a diamond in the rough and polishing it is so much fun.”

Bethany led the way back into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how much polishing I can do in a week. I’d consider hiring more people, but that increases the odds that somebody will figure out who I am. Nash has agreed to keep quiet, and I know you will, so I feel fairly secure at this point.”

“Then I recommend that you have Nash do the bare minimum outside and concentrate his efforts in here.”

“Okay, I will.” Bethany busied herself getting out mugs, sugar and cream while she fought the urge to giggle.

She’d already decided that Nash should concentrate his efforts inside the house. The activity she’d had in mind had nothing to do with renovation, though. Morgan would be expecting miracles, and if Bethany and Nash hoped to renovate this house while also having wild monkey sex every night, it would take several miracles.

8

N
ASH
SPENT
A
GOOD
PART
of the day teaching two of the
Last Chance Youth Program boys the correct way to muck out a stall. Eddie was a
blond and pudgy thirteen-year-old who was eager to please. The other kid, a
skinny, tattooed fourteen-year-old who insisted on being called Ace, had major
attitude. But Ace was careful not to cross the line into open insolence, as if
he knew how much swagger he could get away with before being sent home.

Dealing with the two contrasting personalities on the same work
detail was a challenge, but Nash discovered he liked it. Both boys obviously
yearned for a male role model, and when Nash caught them picking up his
mannerisms, he smiled to himself. Imitation was the sincerest form of
flattery.

Lindsay hadn’t been able to have kids, and had convinced him
that was just as well. He’d bought into her rationalizations, especially after
he’d begun to worry whether the marriage would last. Now that he looked back on
it, he understood that he’d been worried about that from the get-go, but he’d
been slow to admit defeat.

Now he was thirty-five, past the age when a lot of guys had
kids, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still consider it if he found the right
woman. Once he had his own place he could start thinking along those lines. For
now, he had these eight boys to practice on.

He’d gotten an unexpected kick out of that. He’d relished the
mental challenge of trying to outthink his two charges today. They could be
incredibly funny, and they’d obviously loved making him crack up. They could
also be achingly vulnerable and oblivious to the fact that they’d exposed their
innermost secrets.

He looked forward to describing the day’s activities to Bethany
because he knew she’d be interested. That wasn’t his main interest in going back
over there, of course. He ached to make love to her again, and kept checking the
time once the day’s activities wound down.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t as eager to hear Morgan’s estimate on
the Triple G’s value as he’d expected to be. If he ended up buying the ranch,
taking possession of it would coincide with Bethany leaving. Intellectually he
understood that, but emotionally he was a long way from accepting it.

He’d get to that point eventually. But not tonight. As he drove
over to the Triple G in the golden light of a brilliant sunset, a couple of his
own condoms tucked in his jeans pocket, he had to consciously ease up on the gas
pedal because his natural urge was to floor it. The washboard road slowed him
down some, but he took that too fast anyway and his truck rattled in
protest.

The previous night, he’d chosen his clothes so they’d be nice
enough to eat dinner in and old enough to make repairs in. Tonight he’d opted
for a worn pair of jeans, serviceable boots and a Western shirt with the sleeves
rolled back. If she was true to her word, it would all come off. The thought of
that caused the crotch of his jeans to pinch.

Although he halfway expected she might come out on the porch
when she heard his truck, he hadn’t anticipated that she’d be standing in the
middle of the yard waiting as he hit the brakes and turned off the engine. She
wore navy running shorts and a red halter top that made her look like summer
itself.

A wiser man might have taken his time climbing down and walking
over to her. But clearly he wasn’t very wise, because he tossed his hat on the
seat and leaped from the truck, leaving the door hanging open. She ran across
the dirt yard and he met her halfway, catching her up in his arms and laughing
as she wrapped her bare legs around his hips. He supported her by cupping her
firm behind, and then he kissed her for all he was worth.

A separation of less than twenty-four hours seemed like days,
and he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. His cock swelled, and he knew where
this kiss was leading. Carrying her, he started for the house.

He made it up the porch steps, across the porch and through the
screen door. She pulled frantically at his clothes, and he doubted they’d get
all the way to her bedroom before the action started. She’d popped all the snaps
on his shirt by the time they’d staggered inside.

He knew better than to take her on the floor in here. Although
she’d instructed him to ignore this room the previous night, he’d noticed the
stained carpet and shabby furniture. The way she was moaning, though, she’d have
an orgasm before they reached her bedroom, and he wanted to be inside her when
she did.

So he made a command decision and backed her up against the
wall nearest the door. She must have caught on pretty quick, because once her
back was against the wall, she stopped working on his shirt and started
unfastening his belt. He managed to hold her one-handed, which took more
strength than he’d known he had, but that allowed him to fish out the condom
from his pocket. Apparently desperation made him stronger.

And eagerness made her faster. She’d freed him from his briefs
and sheathed his bad boy in a time that might be a world record, if they had
competitions for condom application. He was grateful for her speed when he
realized that her running shorts stretched and she wore nothing underneath.

The way her breasts were heaving under the halter top, he
suspected she was edging close to a climax, so he wasted no time in sliding
home. That single thrust was all it took. She arched her back and convulsed
around him as she gasped in pleasure.

He pumped slowly, drawing out the moment. As she started to
settle down, he shifted the angle and drove deeper.

Her eyes flew open.
“Oh.”

“You didn’t think I’d let you get away with just one, did
you?”

She held his gaze. “I missed you.”

“Same here.” He pushed deeper and she opened to him, lifting
toward him in total surrender. “Missed this, too.”

“Uh-huh.” Her breathing quickened. “Thought...about it.”

“All day?” He increased the pace, daring her to keep up with
him.

“Yes.” She met him stroke for stroke and began to pant.

“Me, too. Imagined this. Burying my cock in you over and
over.”

“So good.” She groaned. “Nash, I’m...”

“I know.” Joy surged within him. “I can feel you tensing.”

“Come with me.”

“Love to.” As the waves of her orgasm flowed over him, he let
go.
Amazing
. Abandoning the last shred of control,
he gave himself up to hot bursts of pleasure that seemed to go on...and on...and
on. Her spasms milked him, leaving him gasping and trembling with the force of
his response.

They clung to each other for long moments, and their ragged
breathing was the only sound filling the silence. Nash wasn’t sure what to say,
what to do. He’d effectively bared his soul by letting her know how much he
craved her. But she’d returned the favor. She craved him just as much.

Finally she leaned her head against the wall. “It’s never been
like this.”

He was touched by her honesty. She didn’t have to say that, but
she’d said it anyway. “Not for me, either.”

“Bummer.”

He had to smile because he agreed. Finding sex that was so
right when the relationship was so wrong could correctly be labeled a bummer. He
took a deep breath. “Or.”

“Or?”

“Or we could accept this interlude as a gift and cherish it
while we can.”

“Well, that’s philosophical. Thank you very much, Zen
Master.”

“Hey.” He leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers.
“Happiness is a—”

“Don’t you dare quote me to myself, Nash Bledsoe. Not when your
pride and joy is right where I could put it in a hammerlock.”

“I was just—”

“Being obnoxious.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I
guess you’re allowed, all things considered. You’ve probably been hoping to
deliver that line ever since you drove in here yesterday and found out who I
was.”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

“Well, happiness
is
a choice and so
is finding yourself in traction because you slipped a disk doing something you
should have known was potentially hazardous. I vote we move this party to a more
horizontal location before we end up having to call 9-1-1.”

“I’m on board with that, but first you’ll have to release me
from the Jaws of Life. I couldn’t move if my life depended on it.”

“Oh.” She blinked and surveyed the situation. “That’s fair, but
keep holding me up until I’m sure I won’t fall. I can’t feel my feet. This is
why they invented the innerspring, you know.”

“I was headed there, but we ran out of time.”

That made her laugh. “True.” She eased away from him and
lowered her feet to the floor. “I was considering dragging you down into the
dirt of the front yard, which I see was a really bad idea now that I’m
calmer—but it seemed perfectly logical at the time.”

“I would have let you, too, which tells you how far gone I was.
In fact, I’m pretty sure the door to my pickup is still open.”

“Probably. I loved that part where you leaped out of the truck.
At some point when I hurried out to meet you, I had this awful thought that you
wouldn’t be as eager to see me as I was to see you, and you’d wonder what the
hell I was doing waiting for you in the front yard.”

“Instead I was so excited I damned near strangled myself on my
seat belt trying to get out of my truck.”

She cradled his face in both hands and gazed up at him. “Thank
you for meeting me halfway across the yard. It was like something out of a
movie.”

“It was almost like something out of a Three Stooges movie, but
at least neither of us fell down.”

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him gently on the mouth and
pulled back. “We need to talk. I found a couple of old camp chairs and put them
out on the front porch. Did you notice?”

“Nope. Blew right past those.”

“I thought it would be a good place to sit and
discuss...things.”

He swallowed. Now that the driving need for her had eased, he
had time to think about what else they had going on, like the future of this
ranch. “Let me duck into your bathroom and get myself sorted out first.”

“I thought you’d want to do that. I have coffee, iced tea, beer
or wine. Which do you want?”

“Iced tea, please.”

“Okay.” She started to move away.

He caught her arm. “You’re impressing the hell out of me.
You’ve been here, what...less than two days? And yet you’re already set up to
provide warm hospitality to visitors. Last night you made the dining room so
nice and tonight you’ve found another pleasant spot to entertain me. Wow.”

She beamed at him. “Now I get to say my line. That’s
living with grace.
”

He groaned. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Perfect setup.” She eased away from him and straightened
her clothes. “I’ll go close the door of your truck. I heard raccoons scrambling
around last night and you don’t want some critter getting in there.”

“Thanks. That would be great.”

“Meet you on the porch in a few.” She slipped out the front
door.

“I’ll be there,” he called after her. Then he walked through
the house to her pink bathroom and took care of business. While drying his hands
on her fluffy pink towel, he caught a glimpse of himself in her medicine cabinet
mirror. He looked
besotted.

He’d heard that word once in a high school English class and
had always thought it sounded unmanly. No real guy would let himself be
described that way, as if some woman had sucked out his brain and replaced it
with foam packing peanuts. But that was exactly how the guy in the mirror
looked.

He hoped to hell that expression was a result of the amazing
sex, and not because he was falling for Bethany. Sex and love weren’t the same
thing—any reasonable person knew that. Leaning against the counter, which
wiggled and was definitely
not
strong enough to have
sex on, he peered at himself. Damn, he even seemed
younger.

He’d become so used to his normal expression that he’d thought
nothing of it. But last week he’d been running errands in Shoshone and had
stopped at his mom’s ice-cream parlor, Lickity Split, to get a cone and see how
she was doing. She’d commented on his sad face.

His mother worried about him because he was the family member
without a happy ending. Last fall his widowed mom and Ronald Hutchinson, owner
of the Shoshone Feed Store, had married. In a cozy little coincidence, Nash’s
little sister, Katrina, had become engaged to Ronald’s son Langford, known to
his close friends, of whom Nash was one, as Hutch.

That left Nash as the lone wolf with no sweetie to warm his bed
at night. He hadn’t planned it that way, but he hadn’t chosen wisely, which
explained the sad face his mother had noticed last week. She’d approve of this
new expression, but he was better off not showing it to her because at the end
of the week, it might disappear.

The clink of ice cubes dropping into glasses told him that
Bethany was getting the iced tea ready. For one brief moment he allowed himself
to imagine what life would be like if he and Bethany lived in this house
together. He liked the idea so much it hurt. Dismissing what was a pointless
fantasy, he walked into the kitchen.

She wasn’t there, which meant she’d taken the iced tea out to
the porch, where they’d agreed to meet. She could have come looking for him, but
she hadn’t because they didn’t know each other that well yet. He didn’t miss
Lindsay, but he missed the ease with which married couples interacted after
living together for years.

He wanted that again with someone, and a couple of kids thrown
into the bargain would be okay, too. Being around the Chance family had given
him a new yardstick for what made up the good life. For Lindsay, it had meant a
luxurious home, expensive vehicles and tropical vacations.