The Rancher's Rules

“No.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “Good.”

“So we both don’t regret it?”

He kissed her again, this time with a little more passion. “Right.”

“So why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

It was his turn to look chagrined. “I was mad when I woke up alone, and I thought you might be looking for a way to tell me last night was a mistake.”

She laughed, and felt warmth cascade through her. He really did not regret making love to her. “I was just trying to be conscientious about getting back to your place before your parents got there.”

“And shy.”

She grinned in acknowledgement of his astute observation. “And a little shy.”

He smiled and released her. “I’m going to take a shower. Why don’t you pack while I’m at it?”

“Why?” She let her gaze roam down his naked body and felt the air leave her lungs in one big whoosh. His entire body was taut and hard.

“We might as well take your stuff to the ranch this morning.” He talked as if standing around conversing naked, and with an obvious erection, was nothing out of the ordinary for him.

Heck, it probably wasn’t. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no point in you staying here, honey.”

She bit her lip. “I can’t move in with you, Grant.”

He smiled again, this time with a definite glint in his eye. “My parents will be there. That’s sufficient chaperonage in anybody’s books.”

“I don’t want to flaunt an affair in your parents’ faces.”

“Affair?” His eyes darkened dangerously and he moved toward her, resolve written in every feature of his face.

Evidently he had a problem with the word affair. Maybe the word sounded too cheap to him. “Relationship. Whatever. I don’t want your mom and dad thinking badly of me.”

He stopped, his bare body inches from her. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by the fact his rather impressive male flesh brushed her stomach. “They’re not going to think badly of you.”

“They will if they find out we’re sleeping together, and they’ll want to know when the wedding is.”

They would also tell her parents, who would then do one of two things. Demand to know when the wedding was to take place as well, or express their disappointment in a daughter who would make love to a man without the benefit of marriage. Maybe even both.

She didn’t want to deal with either scenario. She also didn’t want Grant put under that kind of pressure. If he decided they had a future together, it would be because he couldn’t imagine his life without her—not because his parents and hers had guilted him into it.

“And we aren’t planning on a wedding, right?” His voice was laced with an indefinable emotion. It sounded almost as if he were angry, but he had no reason to be.

She touched his arm in a conciliatory gesture. “Right.”

His expression was serious and a little frightening as he bent and hooked one arm under her knees while using the other to support her shoulders.

She was airborne before she could gather her wits enough to demand, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving in to my instincts.”

That was it. That was all he said as he carried her into the bedroom. He didn’t talk again. Not while he kissed her senseless as he stripped her clothes from her body; not while he aroused her in ways he hadn’t even done the night before. He said nothing as he brought her to one shattering climax after another, but she said plenty. A lot of pleases, Grants, and even swearwords and demands she’d blush about later.

They didn’t make it to his house for another three hours.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“EUDORA GIVENS evicted you this close to Christmas?” Roy Cortez’s voice boomed with a condemnation that for some reason Zoe could not fathom rang a little false.

She watched him, trying to figure out why his eyes expressed something that looked like satisfaction while his mouth voiced censure. He and Lottie had arrived from Portland an hour after Grant and Zoe had made it back to the Double C, and Grant had just finished telling them about her eviction.

“I can’t believe it.”

Zoe smiled at Lottie’s words. “Large dogs intimidate her, and she positively hates rodents. She freaked out when she found Bud in the bathroom.”

“Bud?” Roy’s angular face, so like his son’s, creased in amusement. “You say he’s a hamster?”

“That Grant gave you?” Lottie wasn’t looking at Zoe.

Her entire attention and disapproving frown was settled on her stepson. An inch shorter than Zoe, the older woman’s regard still managed to bring a sting of red up Grant’s throat and into his cheeks.