Rugged Hearts (11 page)

“Oh, oh…yes, baby, oh yeah…there….”

Seriously? The closet? Aimee rolled her eyes, unsure if her frustration with the amorous couple was simply jealously. Regardless, there’d been times of late, when the paper-thin walls had depleted her of sleep. She glanced at her watch, smiling with amusement to time this particular tryst.

A throaty, male groan punctuated a series of repetitive thumps against the wall. Aimee cradled her cheek in her hand and waited. In an odd way, it made her feel better to know someone in no man’s land was getting some, though it made it difficult to strike up a normal conversation when they met outside the building. She wondered if she should perhaps find a way to mention how thin the walls were.

“Oh, oh…wait, there’s a hanger poking my shoulder. Oh don’t stop, don’t stop,” the woman ordered.

Aimee chuckled and picked up an old high school yearbook. She flipped through its pages amid the dizzying crescendo of moans and sighs. Then all was silent. She waited, fighting the urge to break into applause. Instead, she struggled to her feet, painfully aware they’d fallen asleep as the blood rushed back through her veins. She replaced her shoes on the shelf, hearing titters of laughter coming from the other side of the wall and tried to sidestep the twinge of envy poking at her heart. To make matters worse, she emerged from the closet more restless and aware of her solitary status, flushed with thoughts of Wyatt and their the insane kiss. and hadn’t found the paper she was looking for in the first place. She made a mental note to run to the drugstore over her lunch hour the next day.

Tense from her closet experience and visions of dark-eyed cowboys, Aimee padded to the bathroom and changed into a comfy men’s flannel shirt that hung to her knees. Clenching her toothbrush between her teeth, she fished through her dresser for a pair of ragg wool socks, and sat on the bed, drawing them over her chilly feet. She caught her reflection in the dresser mirror and stopped, assessing her less-than-sexy ensemble. Perhaps there was good reason no guys ever ventured up to her apartment. She sighed and sauntered back to the bathroom sink, rinsed her mouth, and pressed the towel to her lips. For a moment, she held it there, imagining the sudden kiss. She’d jumped to a conclusion. Granted, a wrong one, by her suggestion of his sexual inclinations, but she hadn’t anticipated how he would choose to prove her completely incorrect. That kiss was intended to make a point and it had, straight down to her core.

Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she thought of how his mouth fit hers. The memories dominated her thoughts, made her weak in the knees. The taste of his lips, the scent of him—a heady combination of leather and winter wind. She placed her hand on her chest and felt the rapid thud of her heart. Her thoughts conjured the memory of his dark eyes, framed with absurdly long black lashes, staring at her, hanging on her every word.

“Complicated.” She spoke to her reflection in the bathroom mirror and reiterated Betty’s warning. “Intoxicating is more like it.” She checked the front door, turned out the living room lights, and hurried to get into her small double bed. Pulling the blanket and two quilts over her, she snuggled in.

Another
thump
on the wall made her grimace and with a sigh of resignation, she reached over and turned out her bedside light. The familiar sounds from next door began again. Aimee stared at the bright patch of light on her ceiling created by the parking lot outside. She let her mind drift to her mysterious cowboy, mentally peeling away the sexy duster and stained T-shirt. Visions of him, like sugarplums, danced in her head as she listened to the couple next door. That, combined with her torrid thoughts about Wyatt made her restless and she tossed off the blankets, her body too warm, from reacting to her wayward fantasy. She lay awake listening to the activity on the other side of the wall, and try as, she might couldn’t keep Wyatt Kinnison, if only in her dreams, from sneaking into her bed.

Chapter Six

“Hi. Aren’t you the guy whose apple I maimed?”

Wyatt turned with a startled glance to see Aimee Worth standing beside him at the drugstore register.

The clerk cleared his throat and stifled a grin.

“We had coffee. You left in quite a hurry, if memory serves.”

The woman was like a pit bull in a pink coat. Damned if he understood why he found the idea sexy. Astounded by the fact she’d speak to him after the way he’d left the café, Wyatt didn’t know what to say.

“Sure. It’s Abby, right?” He glanced at her and pulled out his wallet, wanting to make this purchase fast. He didn’t want to get into why he’d left so quickly, but he felt if he hung around too long she would demand to know. “What do I owe you?” he asked the clerk. Of course, he remembered her, about every other second in the past twenty-four hours. That kiss, meant to prove wrong some justifiable blow she’d made to his ego, had backfired, scaring him to death with its intensity. Ever since, he’d been drumming up reasons why he shouldn’t want more.

“That’s two cartridges—one color, one black, and two packs of paper. It comes to ninety-five fifty, total.”

“My name’s Aimee,” she corrected. “What are you writing, your memoirs?” She tossed him a smile.

He shot her a side look. “Yeah, something like that.” He accepted his change, nodded his thanks to the clerk, and grabbed his purchase. “See you around.” He headed for the door. It wasn’t fair to lead her on into thinking they were going to become best friends. It wasn’t going to happen. He had two people in his life he trusted—Dalton and Rein. Women, he’d discovered the hard way, couldn’t be trusted. He admitted to himself he’d accepted her invitation based on his libido, but after five minutes talking to her, she was no more interested in a one-night stand than he was in a long-term arrangement. A twinge of concern niggled at the back of his brain, though, when he looked into her eyes. She looked tired, as if she were having trouble sleeping, but he quickly chalked it up to the hazards of teaching, especially, he surmised around the holidays. He gave her credit for that. He’d sooner brand a herd of calves than wrangle a room of kids.

“So, tell me, have you ever let school children come out to your place? You know, like on a field trip?”

Almost at the door, Wyatt halted and pivoted on his heel, surprised when she nearly smacked into his chest. He caught her by the shoulders, and she stepped back, looking a little dazed. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your question.”

She looked up at him and he noticed then the dark shadows evident beneath her eyes. Maybe she was coming down with something.

“I asked if you’d ever had kids out to the ranch on a field trip. You’re familiar with the term field trip, correct?”

The unexpected question caused him to think a moment before he spoke. “Well no, I can’t say I have. A cattle ranch is not the best place for children—small children,” he added, seeing her puzzled expression.

She didn’t respond, only studied him as though deciding whether or not to accept his answer. “Have a good day, then.” He held open the door for her.

She blinked and walked ahead of him before turning to look at him. “Thank you.”

He tipped his hat, glad for the frigid air to keep his senses clear. “Welcome. If you’ll excuse me.” He gingerly stepped around her on the narrow, shoveled path to get to his truck.

“I guess it’s easy to forget what it was like to be a child.”

He stepped over a small drift and stomped his boot as he stood next to his cab. “Well, I guess we all grow up.” It was a lame answer, granted. He couldn’t remember ever being a kid, but he’d learned to deal with it and accept what life had handed him.

“Hey, you want to tell me what I said to make you leave the other day?”

He released the door handle. There was no easy way around this. He tossed the package on the front seat and walked over to where she stood. “About the other day….”

“You don’t owe me a lengthy explanation. I just thought, you know, one minute you’re kissing me and the next, I’m watching you drive away.” She tipped her head. “Maybe I was wrong, but I thought things were going in an okay direction there for a while.”

Wyatt looked down at her. She was a sight. With a silly striped hat pulled down over her ears, her cheeks and nose tinged pink from the cold, she appeared innocent, but the look in those eyes was anything but. More confusing, however, was the way his body seemed to react to being near her. “Just to be clear, I’ve never done that before.”

“Kissed a woman?”

“Kissed a woman like that in public.”

One delicate brow rose. “And you left because you had second thoughts about it?”

“No, I mean….” He let out a quiet sigh. “You sort of brought it on yourself.”

“Are you referring, then, to the kiss, or bugging out on our coffee date?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Oh, right. Like that justifies getting up and walking out of a conversation.”

He eyed her. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you for a teacher.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Listen, I apologize for leaving in such a hurry.” He looked around, realizing that whenever he was in her presence, his thoughts became muddled.

“Apology accepted. Why did you leave? Are you uncomfortable around me?”

“Maybe…a little,” he admitted, meeting her steady gaze.

“Why?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear. If he told her the truth, she most likely wouldn’t like it—or him—which might not be a bad idea.

“You might not like the answer,” he stated, eyeing her.

“Try me.”

Wyatt considered whether to cut his losses or be straight with her. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but he knew what he
didn’t
want to happen. He wasn’t looking for any entanglements and maybe it was better to nip the potential of this one in the bud. “I misunderstood your coming on to me the other day.”

Her face crumpled into a frown. “Misunderstood? I’m not following. When was I coming on to you? By asking you to coffee?”

“I thought maybe you were interested in a little fun.”

“A little fun?” Her expression was skeptical. “Oh, I see. Does this normally work for you? The whole to-be-brutally-honest-I-just-want-you-for-your-body routine?”

He held up his hands in defense. “You asked. I told you I wasn’t into the dating thing.” Wyatt held her puzzled gaze. She wasn’t buying what he was selling and truthfully, he questioned whether he was, either. Unfortunately, the day before he’d reacted on a whim and he shouldn’t have. Now she expected more, and he couldn’t give it to her.

She studied him a moment more. “Um, yeah, you did.” A small smile formed on her lips as she slowly shook her head. “For the record, no, I wasn’t looking for a good time. I can go down to the male strip clubs in Billings if I want that.”

Really
? He tried not to react, but she didn’t seem the strip-club type. He shrugged.

“But that’s not my style.” She tipped her head and looked at him. “Nor do I really buy that you’re so shallow. But I could be wrong.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Which was the point of asking you to coffee. And for the record. That kiss, wasn’t my fault.” She pointed her mittened finger at him.

“Okay, the kiss was a mistake. And fine, we’ll say it was mine. But you have to admit you were flirting. I’m not so old I don’t recognize that.”

She smiled then. “Okay, maybe a little. I admit, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a real date with a guy. This place isn’t exactly crawling with possibilities.”

“Don’t say those kinds of things to me, Aimee.”

“A little too long out on the range there, cowboy?” she asked with a teasing smile.

Dammit. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up backpedaling to make her like him, and he wasn’t ready yet, or certain all together he’d ever be. “Listen, I won’t lie. I’m attracted to you and yeah, it’s been a while for me, too. And there’s no doubt in my mind we’d be good—
very
good, together.”

Her eyes widened. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she whispered.

“But here’s the thing, I’m not looking for anything permanent. I’m happy with my life the way it is. I want no entanglements, no complications. Are you with me here?”

She blinked. “Oh, I hear you, yes. I’m just not sure where you’re going with it.”

He blew out an exasperated sigh. “I guess what I’m saying is if the attraction is the same for you and at some point you feel you’d like to get together—”

“Are you offering me a cowboy booty call?” Her brows rose under her hat.

“I prefer to think of it as consensual. We’re both adults, Aimee. We know what we want, what we need.”

Her blue eyes studied him as though scrutinizing whether his performance was real or not. He prayed he was doing a good enough job convincing her because he wasn’t sure how much more of this pushing-her-away-for-her-own-good business he could take.

“Wow, as romantic as that sounds, cowboy, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

He tipped his hat. “Take all the time you need.” He turned to leave.

“Right, since you’re such a bad-ass mountain man.” Her comment slapped him on the back of the head. “Isn’t that really what you want people to think?”

Dammit. She hadn’t bought it. He drew in a tolerant breath and climbed into the cab of his truck. Tenacious was too mild a word for this woman. “I suppose it’s my life, and I reckon I can live it as I see fit.”

She followed him to the truck, tapped on his window, and waited while he rolled it down. “First let me just say that I ‘reckon’ it is your life, but you have no reason to put on that mask for me. I know more about you than you think, Wyatt Kinnison, and for reasons I haven’t yet figured out, I happen to like you anyway, despite your bristly attitude about dating. And”—she held up her finger—“just for the record, Casanova, if I was interested in you like
that
, you’d know it. So don’t you lose any sleep. Are you with me here?” She smiled.

He dropped his hand over the wheel and looked away. That knowledge wasn’t going to lessen his recent fantasies about her. Not to mention he was now curious what more she knew about him, though he’d bet his life that Betty had been the one to tell her.