Still the One (10 page)

She guided her mare around a fallen branch. Her gaze locked on Rafe’s strong back as he led the way to the creek. The red knit fabric of his polo shirt molded the long muscles in his back, dipped into the ridges between his shoulder blades.

He glanced and caught her staring at him. His mouth tightened. Looking away, he spoke softly to his mare, and she quickened her step. Kit automatically followed his lead, her gaze shifting to the strong, copper slope of his neck.

She knew the red shirt covered shoulders that were bronze and broad, shoulders that had sheltered her more than once. By touch alone, she knew her way across those fluid muscles, down the hard arms that had drawn her into their protection countless times.

She wanted to lay her head against that wide, tempered chest, skim her hands over his iron-hard belly to his narrow waist. His tough, sinewy thighs flexed as he guided his horse up a small incline. One broad hand rested on the faded denim of his thigh; the other hand held the reins loosely.

As her horse trotted up the hill behind his, Kit forced her gaze from him. His stirrups disappeared in a patch of tall sunflowers. Taking the same path, she spied a sprinkling of wild pink buttercups and a handful of small purple flowers that miraculously missed being trampled by the horses.

Liz was the reason Kit was with Rafe, and he’d made
clear he resented that. In the past, that had been more than enough reason for Kit to keep a wall between them.

His words played again in her mind.

Can’t let go. Why do you have to take responsibility for everything in your family?

He looked back, his narrow-eyed gaze colliding with hers, peeling away every defense with a painless finesse that made her want to surrender her pride, her common sense.

“Let’s race to the creek.”

“Is that fair?” She cleared her throat, annoyed at the huskiness in her voice. “You know the way and I don’t.”

“Over these two hills, then swerve right. Sugar will get you there.”

“You’re on.” Without waiting for a cue, she gave her horse a swift kick in the flank, and the mare lunged, muscles bunching. She reached Rafe’s mare, gathered speed from a canter to a flat-out run. Kit laughed.

For the first time in three days, she focused only on what was happening at this moment. Leaning low over the horse, loving the feel of the wind streaming past her face, Kit urged the mare on. She let the motion carry away all thoughts of Liz, of decisions to be made about her life.

Beside her, she felt Rafe closing in. The ground beneath her shook with the force of his horse’s hooves. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he leaned low over his horse’s neck, gaining speed. Her horse jumped a shallow gully, and she laughed again.

Rafe’s laughter rang out, too. He pulled even with her, flashed a wicked grin and passed her.

“No way!” she yelled, tapping her heels against the mare’s flanks. Sugar picked up a little speed, her nose coming even with Rafe’s thigh.

Both mares swung to the right. A hundred feet ahead, through a clump of pecan trees, the creek shimmered like
liquid diamonds. Exhilaration swept through Kit. Rafe urged his horse to jump an overturned tree trunk.

She squeezed her knees tight against the saddle and leaned forward slightly as her mare followed.

Rafe reined up at the edge of the creek a second before she did. He was laughing, his eyes glittering at her in a way that made her senses swim.

“Show-off.” Kit’s mare skidded to a stop.

His mare reared, spun in a fancy pivot. He held his seat easily, his triumphant gaze finding hers. “I even gave you a head start.”

“Don’t get cocky, Blackstock. There’s still the race back.”

He slid to the ground and left the reins hanging loosely over his horse’s neck, then led the mare to the water’s edge.

When Kit tried to swing one leg over, Sugar snorted and bumped against a tree, trapping Kit’s leg.

Leaving his horse, Rafe walked over and laid a hand on the mare’s nose. Sugar immediately quieted, and Kit noted that he’d had the same calming effect on her yesterday at the shooting range.

She dropped to the ground, then led Sugar to the creek. As the horses drank their fill of the clear water, Kit tried to dodge the thought that had teased her all morning.

Near the water, the bank was firm and rocky. Trees lined each side of the sparkling creek, which snaked as far as Kit could see in both directions, growing wider upstream. The water disappeared around a curve, lost beneath drooping branches and shade, then appeared again glistening in the sunlight.

“The horses will graze here. Let’s walk.”

Kit immediately fell in with Rafe’s suggestion and dropped her reins. She followed him up the rise and caught up with him in the shade of an old pecan tree. Sunlight
dappled the ground, beaming its way between leaves to make delicate patterns on the knee-high prairie grass.

He looked into the distance, across acres of rippling grass, greening winter wheat, the occasional stand of blackjack and cottonwood trees. “It’s peaceful out here.”

It was peaceful, but tension hummed inside her. Kit knew those shimmering nerves had to do with the man beside her. The man she’d never forgotten. “This was a great idea, Rafe. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I thought it would do us both good. The horses needed it, too. I’ve only been out twice to ride since my folks have been gone.”

He took off, long legs easily parting the grass.

Her steps fell in with his, and she observed quietly, “Everything looks great, almost exactly the same. The barn’s a different color, I think.”

“Yeah, they decided to repaint with gray instead of red.”

A cool note slid into his voice. “So tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself, Kit.”

“You already know.” She gave her hair a quick finger-combing. “I’m a flight attendant.”

“Ten years is a lot of flying. Don’t you do other things?”

“Oh. Sure.” She thought for a minute. What did she do?

“I finally finished college,” she offered tentatively, stopping beneath a sprawling oak.

He stopped, too, looking at her in surprise. Something dark burned in his eyes. “That’s great. I knew you would.”

Because of Liz and her stunts, Kit had missed final exams twice. She hadn’t been able to complete her credits and graduate with Rafe. She’d done so in the months following their breakup, but she hadn’t walked across the stage with her class, with him. Until now, she hadn’t realized how much she resented missing that.

Tamping the irritation spiraling inside her, she said, “I
was able to help Liz get a job with the day-care center. She’s done very well there. She seems to have a real affinity for children.” She laughed. “I know, you’re going to say it’s because she’s one herself.”

He reached up, stripped a spring-green oak leaf from its branch. “No, I’m not.”

The wariness she’d noticed this morning still shadowed his eyes, still showed in the way he carried himself. He was careful not to stand too close to her, careful not to look at her too often.

She knew she’d hurt him years ago. Knew, too, that his parents were justified in being aloof and even angry with her. She didn’t want to hurt him again, but she wanted another chance with Rafe. She’d dated enough since their breakup to know that guys like him were one in a million. And she’d thrown him away.

He took off again, moving with fluid grace. She followed, trying to keep at least an arm’s length between them. That seemed to be what he wanted. Beneath the shade of a pecan tree, where the grass was short and cropped, he stopped. His shirt sleeves skimmed over biceps that looked as hard as the oak trees around them.

Water gurgled down the hill. Mockingbirds and whippoorwills scolded and squawked overhead. The scent of freshly trodden grass, the newness of spring drifted in the air.

She ached to be close to him, but she didn’t move. “My dad’s still in Norman. He said to tell you hi.”

Rafe nodded, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “What else? Don’t you have any hobbies?”

She sensed he was simply making conversation. Something to keep both their minds from the past. Or perhaps Liz. “I’m involved in the city’s reading program. I read to an elderly person at the library once a week.”

“Really?”

“That was one of Liz’s community service projects several years ago. She was on probation at college and she had to pick a project. I became interested in it and still enjoy doing it.”

“Do you still water-ski? You were hell on a slalom.”

She smiled. “I haven’t done it in years.”

She’d given it up. With her job taking her out of town so much and her spare time spent chasing after Liz, there didn’t seem to be time for going to the lake.

He leaned against the ancient oak tree and propped one booted foot on the trunk behind him. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot going on.”

“Not really. I just run around a lot.” She laughed, but it hit her then just how little she did for herself, how much of her time revolved around her sister.

He’d been right about Liz, Kit realized. About how she couldn’t let go of the responsibility she felt for her sister, that she felt for her entire family.

Dissatisfaction over that had simmered inside her for a long time. For the last year, it had become more insistent, but it was Rafe who’d finally forced her to address it.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she said, “You were right before.”

He turned his head, a slight frown between his brows.

“About Liz. About how she should be standing on her own two feet. About how my dad has been pushing for that. He has, for quite a few years.”

Rafe slowly brought his leg down, straightened. “I shouldn’t have said those things. They’re none of my business and I do know there’s a reason, Kit.”

The gentle sympathy in his voice tugged at her, urged her to move toward him. She could still feel his reserve, see it in the sudden flare in his eyes, but she needed to be close to him.

“You really helped me yesterday, Rafe.”

“Hey, I know it’s tough, waiting to hear from her, wondering when you will.” He stared over her head, a muscle in his jaw working. “But you will.”

“I know. I meant, you were really there for me. Just like you always were.”

He pushed away from the tree, stepped around her. “Let’s don’t make more of that than there was, Kit. I was just doing what any…friend would do.”

“But I don’t want just anyone to do it.” She couldn’t believe she’d said the words, and the brittle silence behind her told her he couldn’t, either.

She was afraid to turn around, but she did, her gaze going straight to his. Wariness and heat smoldered there. He was so solid, so strong. He’d always been those things. And she’d missed them. Missed
him.

With each moment they spent together, it became clear how much. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she took a step toward him.

“We should probably get back.”

She reached out, threaded her fingers with his. He tensed but didn’t pull away. She knew what she had to do about Liz. If she could be close to Rafe for just a minute, she knew she’d have the strength to do it.

His fingers were warm and still in hers; his pulse beat a strong tattoo against the column of his throat. Want unfurled inside her, scrambling her pulse, plucking at her nerve endings. She saw desire, felt him fighting it. Fighting her.

She moved closer, lifted one hand to the rugged line of his jaw. “I don’t think I’d be able to get through any of this if it weren’t for you. I think that’s why I had to find you.”

He started to shake his head, and she laid a finger against his lips. His chest was deep and strong. His eyes bored into hers, guarded, piercing.

“Don’t you ever wonder?” she whispered, unable to keep from dragging her index finger across his bottom lip.

His free hand came up, clamped around her wrist and pulled her away. “No.”

She looked into his eyes, saw the lie. The black fire in his gaze turned her bones to water.

“Don’t you ever think about how good it was between us? What might’ve happened?”

“No.” But the word was choked, and his gaze fell to her lips.

She could see the same questions in his eyes that had tortured her since last night. She could read the craving to find out, feel it in the way his body tightened against hers. She might regret it later, but for now she had to know.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, afraid he would step away, she raised up on tiptoe. His grip tightened on her wrist, but he didn’t move.

One kiss. Given freely. Completely unrelated to hidden cameras or listening devices.

She had to taste him, had to know if they could possibly have another chance. It wasn’t over. The smoldering darkness of his eyes, the taut quiver of his body told her he wanted her.

She touched her lips to his, and it was as if a barrier broke. The need and hunger that had slowly swirled between them exploded.

On a growl, he hauled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He ravaged her mouth, his hands skimming her back, cupping her bottom and anchoring her to him. She felt something sharp and rough at her back, realized he’d backed her up against the tree. She didn’t care. All she wanted was him, to have this insane whirlpool of need take her down as it was doing now.

He lifted her, wrapped her legs around his waist. “Damn, Kit. Damn.”

Dragging his lips from hers, he nipped his way down her neck, and she clutched at him, kissing his ear, his temple, his cheek. He was hot and hard between her legs, making silver heat lick at her belly.

After tugging her T-shirt out of the waistband of her jeans, he slid his hand beneath. His palm, slightly callused, sent a shiver through her as he dragged it over her rib cage. When his hand closed over her silk-covered breast, she moaned, the pleasure a sharp ache inside her.

He captured her mouth again, and her tongue skimmed his lips, stroked his tongue.

With a strangled curse, he slid her down his body and put her on her feet. Her legs wobbled, and she braced herself against the tree, her hands spearing into his hair as he shoved her shirt up, took her in both his hands.