Raising Kane (5 page)

Seemed strange that the only ones who called him Buck were his nieces, his cousins’ boys, who he considered his nephews, and the kids in the Little Buddies program. The great experiment with changing his name to something completely different from his twin brother’s had lasted until the night he’d picked up a brunette in a bar outside of Gillette. Her continual cries of “Fuck me, Buck” and “Buck me, Buck” and

“Suck me, Buck” were enough to make him ditch the name altogether—not that it’d really caught on.

While they were outside, Kane said, “Can you handle everything Monday and Tuesday?”

“I guess. Gonna be a long weekend for you, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Before I forget, Colt said something about you pickin’ up the generators and takin’ ’em in to Brown’s Repair before we hit calving.”

“Why doesn’t Colt do it? It ain’t like I don’t have plenty of my own shit to take care of around here and I’m helpin’ out Brandt and the boys.”

Kade frowned. “I don’t know. He just told me to tell you.”

“
Tell
me,” Kane sneered. “More like command me. Asshole.”

“Whoa. I’m just the messenger.” Kade’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what the hell has been goin’

on between you and Colt the last month, but I’m pretty sick of bein’ the go between—”

“And I’m sick and tired of his—”

“Hey! Look.” Eliza stood on the seat and passed him a Ziploc bag of cookies through the sliding beer window—after she’d given one to Shep. “You can share with Hayden if you want.”

“Huh-uh, short stuff. I don’t share.”

“Mama says it ain’t nice not to share. Isn’t nice,” she corrected herself.

“How many bags of cookies you got stashed in your jacket so you don’t have to share them with your sisters?”

She smiled coyly and blew him a kiss. “Bye, Uncle Buck.”

Kane shook his head, charmed by his niece’s sweet slyness.

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Ginger woke to a spike of pain in her shoulder. Both her legs ached. Her hand smarted. Her mouth was dry.

Last night she’d only stayed conscious long enough to use the bathroom, eat more toast and swallow more painkillers.

And dream. Good Lord had the dreams been spectacular. All starring one hunky, built cowboy, who’d shed his gentlemanly persona right along with every stitch of his western clothes. He’d bound her. Gagged her. Tied her up. Tied her down. Spread her out. Bent her over. Displayed her body solely for his pleasure.

He’d demanded sexual obedience. He showed his bedroom prowess, demonstrating kinky things she’d only read about. So it was disorienting to wake up alone and realize she’d been hallucinating about the sexy gentleman rancher.

No wonder she started out the day cranky.

Since personal grooming had fallen by the wayside for the last two days, cleaning herself up was her first priority. She desperately needed a change of clothes. A change of scenery. Ginger felt like a prisoner in her own body, in her own room, in her own home.

Enough feeling sorry for yourself. Your father deals with this every damn day.

After three false starts, Ginger draped fresh clothes around her neck and hobbled to her master bathroom before Kane bulled his way in and took over. Much as his take-charge nature appealed to her, the last thing she needed was her good-smelling sexy helper to get a whiff of her very rank self.

Carefully unhooking the sling, she kept her right arm immobile as she slowly removed her clothes. It was mortifying to be coated in sweat by the time she’d stripped to just her skin. When she got a glimpse in the mirror of the injuries to her body, she literally gasped.

She looked hideous. Bruises dotted her ribcage. A few were scattered across her upper thigh. An ugly welt protruded on her left shin below the deep gash. Luckily, her coat had protected her arms from cement burns, although her left palm had borne the brunt of her graceless skid across the frozen pavement.

The snappish voice—
stop sniveling, it could’ve been worse—
dried the moisture forming in her eyes.

A shower wasn’t a possibility due to her cast, but she had to wash her hair. Had to. Thankfully she’d invested in a removable handheld showerhead and she wouldn’t have to wedge her aching body between the toilet and the tub to reach the main spigot.

Lorelei James

She filled the sink with hot water and loaded her washcloth with suds from her favorite Sky Blue soap—a creamy mix of sweet lavender and mint. It was harder than she’d anticipated, scrubbing herself with her left hand. By the time she finished, she felt a million times better, but she was exhausted from the effort. And she still had to wash her hair.

Ask for help.

No. She’d done fine on her own, maybe slower than she preferred, but she could do this.

Ginger set extra towels on the floor to cushion the cast and her shin. She cranked on the water, placing the shampoo bottle within reach before bending over the edge of the tub. Her fingers circled the hose for the sprayer and she jerked it close.

Ready. Set. Clean.

Getting her head wet? Easy. Washing her scalp and her long hair one-handed? That sucked. Bad.

Trying to rinse out the shampoo, when she couldn’t feel with her other hand if suds still matted her hair?

Beyond frustrating.

In attempting to rinse her nape, water poured into her ears. She hated that echoey, squishing sound in her head. As she adjusted the angle of the spray nozzle, soapy water trickled down her spine, following the crack of her ass to flow between her thighs. When she repositioned the rotating showerhead again, this time to rinse the front of her hairline, she nailed herself right square in the face with the water. For some reason, she screamed, flinging the sprayer aside like it’d been shooting acid rain at her.

Stupid, stupid, Ginger. What is wrong with you? It’s just water.

Gritting her teeth, she opened her eyes to see where she’d tossed the sprayer. Thick rivulets of soap slithered down her forehead and puddled in the corners of her eyes.

She couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear, she couldn’t move. The soap started to burn. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

The door banged open. “Ginger? Jesus, what are you—”

Was that Kane? She shrieked, “Get out! Get out of here right now!” Her eyeballs stung. Her naked body burned with utter humiliation. God. Of all the positions to be stuck in, on her knees, her fat white ass flapping in the wind.

“Why don’t I—”

“Get the fuck out? Good plan.”

The door slammed shut.

She blindly reached for the hose for the hand sprayer. Unable to see a damn thing, she leaned over too far, smacking her shoulder into the bottom of the tub. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, goddammit, hold still.” Kane moved in behind her, straddling her upper torso, squeezing his knees on either side of her ribcage. He reached for the hose and placed the nozzle on the back of her head. “Close your eyes and tilt your head down,” he said tersely.

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Raising Kane

If Ginger was surprised by how quickly she acquiesced, she was even more surprised by Kane’s thoroughness. His gentleness.

He rinsed her hair. Her face. Her eyes.

“I can take it from here,” she said curtly.

“Like hell. I’m gonna help you to your feet whether you like it or not.” He wrapped his arms around her midsection.

She sucked in a breath when the muscular backs of his forearms brushed the underswell of her breasts. Her nipples constricted. Her whole body quivered.

“Steady. I know you’re cold. Let’s get you upright first. Then we’ll see about getting you dried off and warmed up.” He lifted her with almost no effort. Instead of letting her go, he held her tightly against his body.

She whimpered.

“Am I hurtin’ you?”

“No. I’m just…mortally embarrassed.”

“Listen to me. I am here to help you. With everything. Including this kinda stuff. So all you need to do, Ginger, is let me help you. Can you do that?”

“No.”

He laughed. “Tough shit.”

She nearly smiled through her chattering teeth.

“No more of this ‘you don’t need my help’ attitude. From now on, I’m gonna stick to your goddamn side like glue, understand?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good.” He released her. “Now brace your hand on the sink and I’ll dry you off.”

With brisk, but calm efficiency, Kane toweled off every section of her wet body. She had to admit that he didn’t let his gaze linger on her naked body parts. Until he had to help her get dressed. He muttered something about going straight to hell.

Kane slipped the straps of her favorite lime green bra up her arms and pulled the cups to cover her breasts. After he snapped the front clasp of the separate sections together, his fingertips swept the deep “V”

of her cleavage, lingering on the upper curves.

Her nipples hardened at his touch, despite the echo of her father’s warning about Kane’s deftness with female undergarments.
He’s helped plenty of women out of their clothes.

He lifted a brow at her shirt choice. “A button-up, long-sleeved western shirt?”

“I thought it’d be easier to put on.”

“Not easier to snap with one hand. Let’s start with your bum arm.” Once he had the shirt snapped, he slipped the sling over her head. “Careful.”

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Lorelei James

Ginger fought the urge to tell him to hurry, because hello? She was naked from the waist down. The glint in Kane’s eye warned that if she complained, he’d take even longer dressing her.

When he dropped to his knees, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his dark head so close to her pussy. If he moved his face, just a couple of inches, he could put his mouth right where she most wanted it.

Would he comment about her being a natural redhead?

But Kane didn’t say a word. He didn’t slowly, sensuously ease the soft cotton yoga pants up her legs.

One fast tug and the waistband hugged her hips.

Not only did Ginger feel ashamed of her less-than-perfect body, she was embarrassed by her conflicting emotions—on one hand wanting Kane to notice her, on the other hand wanting to cringe away from his scrutiny.

Kane stood and hung up the towels.

How much of a freak did it make her that she felt more vulnerable dressed than she had stark naked?

Keeping her head bowed, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Then Kane was right there, tipping her face up to meet his gaze. “Hey now, what’s with the waterworks? I just got you dried off.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the ass.”

He studied her. “Why do you have such a hard time askin’ for help?”

“Because I’ve never needed it before.”

“Well, you need it now.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.”

“I’m gonna be pointing it out over and over until it’s through that thick skull of yours, so suck it up.

Get used to takin’ my help, Ginger, because I’m just as goddamn stubborn as you are. And I ain’t gonna wait for you to ask me for it.”

Hayden knocked and rushed in without waiting for the obligatory “come in”, oblivious to the fact she and Kane had been within kissing distance.

“Mom? You okay?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine.”

Hayden squinted at her hair. “Except you look like a mad porcupine.”

Her hair snarled like a Brillo pad if she forgot to put conditioner in, which she had. Combing it without the benefit of conditioner? Near impossible, especially since she’d be forced to use her left hand.

The thought of hobbling around her house with her hair looking like an electrocuted porcupine made her want to cry.

“Hayden, buddy, why don’t you give your mama a minute?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“She knows. Go on.”

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Raising Kane

If Ginger couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror she couldn’t imagine what Kane saw when he looked at her.

Silence, thick as steam, floated around them.

Kane curled his hands around her face. “You don’t look like a mad porcupine. Maybe just a rabid squirrel.”

She laughed and sobbed simultaneously.

His too-kind eyes searched hers. “Find me a brush and I’ll comb out your hair.”

“You’d do that?”

His hands fell to his sides. “Why? Don’t you trust me?” he said with an edge to his voice.

Way to insult the man when he’s gone above and beyond.
Ginger backtracked. “It’s not that.”

“Then what? Because it doesn’t take a damn doctorate to untangle hair, Ginger.”

What did that have to do with anything? Kane wasn’t feeling intimidated by her…was he?

That was beyond ridiculous. The man was…a super hero—according to her son. And from what she’d seen so far? She’d have to agree.

“Red?” he prompted brusquely.

Keep it light.
“I was just wondering if it’d be presumptuous to ask you for a pedicure too.”

“Definitely.” He flashed her that knee-weakening grin.

In her bedroom, she perched on the edge of her bed. Kane followed a beat later, wielding a brush and a comb. He closed the door behind him and propped a knee on the mattress. “If I pull too hard, let me know.”

Ginger let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself to enjoy the feel of Kane’s hands on her head, straightening and smoothing the coarse strands, one section at a time.

“I see them wheels turnin’, counselor. You’re wondering how many heads of women’s hair I’ve combed before yours, aren’t you?”

Was she that transparent? “Maybe.”

“No women, but I have untangled wild child Eliza’s hair a time or two.”

Grateful for the subject change, she asked, “Do you spend much time with Kade and Skylar’s girls?”

“As much as I can. Eliza more than the twins, since she’s older.” He chuckled. “Last year? She was complaining to her parents about them goin’ away for ‘alone’ time and demanded alone time too.”

“What did they do?”

“Sent her to my house for the weekend. We ate junk food and watched girlie movies and played High Ho! Cherry-O and Go Fish. However, I drew the line at playin’ Barbies or painting her nails,” he said dryly. “So your pedicure chances are slim to none.”