Sleepless in Montana (37 page)

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Authors: Cait London

Tags: #fiction, #romance, #romantic suspense, #ranch, #contemporary romance, #montana, #cait london, #cait logan, #kodiak

BOOK: Sleepless in Montana
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“You felt pretty good an hour ago.” He
reached out to smooth her bare thigh and slide his fingers beneath
the fringes of her jean cutoffs. She still wore that hot, wild,
flushed look that could set him off in a heartbeat.

“Oh, yes, well, that little kitchen-table
incident. You really shouldn’t walk around naked, Hogan. I just
came over here this morning to use your office... and there you
were, strolling around buck-naked and fresh from your shower. You
had water beads on your shoulders and that hoop in your ear and
that raw, untamed sultry look that just makes me want to take you
down. There’s so much of you that no woman could—”

Hogan studied Jemma stalking across the front
porch, sunlight creating a fiery halo around her hair, her body
taut and her sassy mouth burning the morning air.

She moved him in a way he could not yet
fathom to the fullest, but he knew what he wanted: a home and a
family of his own. Perhaps the natural urge to make his mark, to
carry on his blood had drawn him home, but Jemma had given him an
understanding that was far beyond the hard, fast lock of their
bodies. She’d given him tenderness.

He cherished that silly little daisy she’d
woven in his hair that night he’d come to her. Flat and dried, the
daisy was tucked safe in his wallet, where he could pull it out in
the quiet moments and think back to what he considered his wedding
night.

“I want you to think about moving in with
me,” he stated very carefully.

Jemma was still nervous around him. While
Jemma had kept close to Carley, she’d never really shared her life,
nor had he. He wanted to prove to her that they had a lasting,
comfortable, and growing relationship... and he wanted to romance
the lady he had chosen.

Hogan wasn’t certain that he had romantic
qualities, but he would try... because Jemma deserved everything he
could give.

He sensed Jemma emotionally backing away, as
she walked to the big pots of herbs and crouched to run her hand
across the chives. She’d made changes in his house, and while they
were unfamiliar and feminine, he liked the softer elements of
plants and herbs.

Jemma stood and turned to him, her face pale
and serious. “I’m here quite a bit, Hogan. There’s no need for me
to move in.”

“I want to wake up to you in my bed every
morning.” The statement was too bald in the morning air, and Hogan
wondered how Jemma would react. “I have never stayed with any other
woman all night, sweetheart.”

Frustration wrapped around Hogan like a cloak
as Jemma took her time, breaking a fragrant lacy leaf from a
scented geranium stalk. She drew it beneath her nose, watching him.
“I’ve been married, Hogan. I gave everything, and it didn’t work. I
tried to be something I’m not.”

“Have I asked you to be anyone but who you
are?”

“I felt cramped and contained— stifled. I
like to travel, to move around a lot, and you’re so scheduled, so
intense. You’ll need a woman who can support your talent, play the
hostess. I like to be out there, wrangling for myself. There’s all
sorts of obligations when you live with someone. I’ve got a lot of
things going at the same time and you—”

Hogan inhaled slowly. “You’re evading the
real issue. I’m getting the picture that I might be boring.”

“You know you’re not, and you’re just wanting
to brood. You’re not happy unless you can brood, Hogan. All of you
Kodiaks are that way. I’ve come to accept that that’s your level of
happiness—brooding.”

Jemma smoothed his shoulder. “I have to be
with Carley until this is over, Hogan. I’d never forgive myself if
he came for her one night and again I wasn’t there for her. You
know that my feelings for you are unique, but—”

“ ‘Unique’?” Hogan wrapped his hand around
her wrist. He intended to keep her; she’d already taken his heart.
“I’ll wait. We’ll finish any danger to Carley, and then I’m coming
for you.”

“You’re not done hating Ben. I don’t want to
be a part of that. I don’t want to know that while you’re making
love to me, you’re hating a man I respect— that you could hurt
him.”

“You’re making excuses and putting Ben
between us.” Hogan wasn’t letting anyone else do his resolves for
him. “You’re setting conditions— terms, aren’t you? My relationship
with Ben hasn’t stood between us so far.”

“It might. I’d be stuck between the two of
you, men I respect and like— men hacking away at each other.”

“ ‘Like?’” He picked up the word, cradled it
close to his heart, and hoped that Jemma meant more. She tried to
tug her wrist away, but Hogan held her still, using little force.
Her hand turned, caught his tightly.

“I thought marriage would work the first
time, but after we were together, it was as if I couldn’t breathe.
So much was expected of me. I really did not like the confinement.
We’d fight all the time.... Look at you, you can’t stand me using
your things—”

“Jemma. You have a tackle box filled with
high-priced lures. Because I catch trout does not mean my lures are
better than yours. There are things we wouldn’t share. But I think
we’ve got enough working on our side.”

“You can think... that’s the problem. I can’t
think when I’m around you. One hot dark look from you and I
start—”

She caught herself and ran her hand across
the knotted T-shirt on her stomach. “My ulcer is acting up. Hogan,
what am I going to do about getting those blouses? I could lose a
fortune. Here’s the deal—”

She launched into an animated, fast story
about a temperamental designer and a good manufacturer she could
lose. “Ordinarily, I’d be wining and dining, but I don’t want to
leave Carley now. And I’m doing so well with my fly-fishing, don’t
you think? I mean Les is certain to be impressed.”

Hogan wanted to keep on track while Jemma was
escaping, freewheeling through her profit margins. He needed a
little reassurance, and stopped her hands toying with his hair.
“Let’s get back to where you start— Start what with me?”

“Stop pushing. You are so intense. I start...
simmering, ok?” She tugged the braid she had just done beside his
face. “You’re grinning, you arrogant piece of— That’s what you
wanted to hear, wasn’t it?”

“I wanted to hear something else, but that
will do.” Hogan didn’t want to think about Jemma cornering Les
Parkins for the television pilot, and tried to subdue the jealousy
skittering up his nape.

He had definite plans to have Jemma move in
with him, to share his life with her, not just a fast coupling
between the other Kodiaks’ problems. He put the tackle box aside,
then found a horsehair lure that Joe had helped him make years ago.
The memories curled around him, an uncle he’d never known had died,
found along the roadside. Now he’d never know what Joe could tell
him, but he understood the looks they’d shared, the tangling of
blood and of a woman who bonded them together. Who bound them to
Ben.

Jemma moved away from him, and Hogan knew she
was closing doors that he wasn’t ready to have shut. “What’s the
real reason, past all this manure?”

She hesitated, then turned to him, tears in
her eyes. “Deep down, you’re a family man, Hogan. You love
children. Someday, you should have someone who wants children, too.
I don’t. I’ve put in my time of changing diapers and midnight
feedings, and terrified one of my brothers or sisters would die of
the flu or a cold.... I don’t want children, Hogan. I helped my
mother through childbirth. I’ve fed babies, and washed diapers and
toted babies on my hip, when I was no more than a baby myself.
Having children means regular meals, laundry, and colic. I’ve
already been through that nightmare.”

“I haven’t asked for children, Jemma. I just
want you.”

But Hogan wanted children, deep down inside,
as she had said. Life flowing on, like the salmon coming back to
its origins to spawn, a little piece of himself to hold and know
that life would go on. But he could do without that need, if he had
Jemma.

“It would always be there in your eyes— the
way you look at children, play with them, and I’m not the woman for
that, Hogan.”

Jemma’s tears shimmered in the sunlight, her
hand trembling as she slashed them away. “I don’t know if I have
maternal instincts— my mother certainly didn’t. The whole idea is
wrong, Hogan. You’ll see that sooner or later, and I’d hate myself.
I’d see that need every time you held someone else’s child.”

“Come here.” He wanted to hold Jemma, to give
her comfort, to take away those early painful memories. If he got
up and went to her, Jemma would balk. If she came to him, there was
just a chance—

Jemma slashed away her hair and glared at
him, fighting her past and future with him. The link between them
was more than the locking of their bodies, and she knew it. “I’m in
a fix, Hogan. The least you can do is listen. I stand to lose a
fortune.”

“I’ll listen. Come here.” He wasn’t pushing
her, forcing her into anything.
Would she trust him to hold her
now, while she was fighting herself and her past?

The intricacies of dealing with a woman he
wanted fascinated Hogan. He wasn’t certain that Jemma would stay or
leave. A little trickle of fear shot up his spine. Handling Jemma’s
fast-moving emotions was a real challenge. If he moved too slowly,
he was in trouble— too fast, and he’d step in the proverbial cow
pile.

Jemma came to him and let herself be drawn
down onto his lap. Hogan kissed her damp cheeks, and she leaned
back against him, momentarily drained by her emotions.

Hogan relaxed, settling into the unfamiliar
peace she gave him, gathering her closer before she started
wiggling to be free and running into her world of bargains. “You’re
getting the blouses— the bosoms of the world will be covered from
the horror of button-gap.”

Jemma turned to him, her hair flying out
around her face like a firestorm. “What?”

“The designer likes my work. I agreed to
design a small logo for her. It’s a trade-off. The carved herb
stones are headed for a warehouse. You’ve got the exclusive on
them.”


What?

Hogan smiled, a little heady with his
success—presenting the woman he wanted with her desires. He stroked
her thigh, enjoying the slender feminine strength, the leggy shape
that ran up into—

He bent to kiss her parted lips, and Jemma
eased back, her eyes smoky gray. “Let me get this straight. You
entered my business deals.”

He nodded, feeling good about helping her.
“You’ve been talking about how much you wanted both deals. I just
added a little weight to your bargaining table.”

Jemma was too still. “Did you really? Did I
ask you to interfere? To help me?”

Hogan frowned, trying to understand where he
had erred. Her furious expression did not bode well. “Jemma, I was
trying to help.”

“Did I ask you to fix things for me?” She
bolted off his lap and stalked down his porch stairs. She gripped
the reins of the saddled horse she’d used to ride to him and then
retied them on the hitching post.

She marched back up to the porch and glared
at him. “You are so dense, Hogan Kodiak. I do my own deals, got it?
You were just supposed to listen, not try to fix anything. Did I
ask for your help?”

Hogan inhaled slowly, feeling as if he’d been
broad-sided. The intricacies of pleasing Jemma had escaped him.

“Next time, I’ll just ask if you need my
help, honey,” he muttered, and wondered where the beautiful morning
had gone wrong. She slammed into the house, and he was fast
learning that life with the woman he wanted was not a clearly
marked trail.

“Hogan!” He closed his eyes and wondered if
he’d waded into another taboo-land as Jemma eased out of the front
door, carrying a large painting.

“I was looking for more fly-tying supplies in
the closet and—This is Carley on that night she was attacked. This
is why you don’t paint anymore. You see her horror in your mind,”
Jemma said quietly, studying the painting that Hogan had been
unable to throw away.

He looked away from Carley’s large haunted
eyes, the shadows around her girlish face, her mouth parted in a
silent scream that had echoed in Hogan for years.

In the distant pasture, he found Carley-the
woman in the field, racing from Mitch, and when he caught her, he
held her high in his arms. Mitch twirled her around, then slipped
her down to kiss her.

Hogan rubbed the ache in his chest. “That’s
how she should have been years ago— happy.”

Jemma placed Carley’s portrait against the
wall and came to stand beside him, her hand on his shoulder. “She’s
lost weight, and she’s gorgeous with that new haircut.”

“Thanks to you helping her.”

“She’s just awakening, thanks to Mitch’s
patience. When I first met her, I thought she was an angel with
that pale hair and blue eyes. Then, with that so-innocent face, she
lied to the teacher about something I’d done, protecting me. She
still crosses her fingers behind her back when telling fibs. I knew
I’d love her forever. Look at them, Hogan. They’re in love, and
Carley doesn’t even know it,” Jemma whispered.

He remembered when Mitch had first come to
the Bar K, a sassy-mouthed, bitter street kid. Then Carley had
given him an extra portion of chocolate cake heaped with ice cream,
and Mitch had probably loved her from that moment. When Carley
nursed his bruised hands, cleansing them and applying ointment,
Mitch had lost his heart. He’d hidden that love for years, and now
it was blooming....

“All my kids are growing up,” Hogan mourned
quietly, and drew Jemma into his lap again, needing her comfort. He
placed his chin upon her head as they watched Carley break free and
run from Mitch. Their happy shouts carried across the pasture.

For once, everything in the Kodiak family was
as it should be....

“You came through for them, Hogan. You were a
parent at an early age, too, and almost a parent to Ben when he was
drinking after Dinah left. Where is this all going to end, Hogan?”
Jemma asked, smoothing his shoulder.

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