“I’ll run away with you as soon as Evelyn says you can go,” Cass promised.
“Ready to toss me over for a cookie?” Evelyn gave her husband a slap on the shoulder.
“Really good cookies,” he insisted and popped a piece of one into Evelyn’s mouth.
She groaned, looked at Cass and said, “Forget Lenny, marry me.”
The people around this table were family. Mostly single men, who lived in the bunkhouses; only the ranch foreman, Charlie, and the head horse wrangler, Lenny, lived in cabins with their wives. More laughter, more fun, and then Cass was looking into Jake’s eyes again and the humor died away, burning in the flames she read there.
She wanted him bad, and if she didn’t get off this mountain soon, she didn’t know what she was going to do. Already, she’d kissed him. Twice. And sadly, she was forced to admit, only to herself of course, that if the cowboys hadn’t returned to the ranch when they had—oh, better not to think about that.
The man had great hands. And an incredible mouth. Not to mention that truly fabulous butt. He was the whole package, plus—fantasy bonus—a cowboy. Claudia was right, Cass told herself as she took a seat as far from Jake as she could manage, it had been way too long since Cass had had a man in her life. Those stolen moments with Jake told her it was time to change all of that. Oh, not now. Not Jake. Yes, she had kissed him first this time, but that had clearly been out of character. She couldn’t do that again, and he would probably keep avoiding her until it was time for her to leave the ranch....
But when she got back to Boston, she’d look for a guy who could do to her what Jake was able to. Surely there had to be more than one man in the world who could send skyrockets flashing through her bloodstream.
Determined, she nodded at the thought, glad to have a plan. She picked up a piece of chicken, bit in and chewed, her gaze shifting unerringly to Jake again. He lifted his beer for a sip and she watched the muscles in his throat move. She licked her lips, sighed a little and told herself grimly that there was absolutely no man anywhere who could compare to Jake Hunter.
Finding a cowboy in Boston would be as easy as finding a stockbroker in Montana. No, when she went home, she’d be leaving the fantasy behind. The question was, would she go home with a smile on her face? Or regret in her heart?
Five
Once the work was done, what was she supposed to do?
Cass wandered the big, silent house and wished she could sleep. But that wasn’t going to happen. She’d taken a hot bath to ease her sore muscles, tried to read a book and even flipped through a few dozen TV channels. Nothing had worked.
Now she was so unsettled, she couldn’t even sit still. So she walked, her bare feet soundless on the wood floors. She paused to look at framed photos of the Montana countryside hanging on the walls. She ran her fingertips across the spines of leather-bound books on shelves. She stared out the windows at the dark night beyond the glass, then went on, moving into the great room, where a fire lay slowly dying in the hearth. The soft hiss and sizzle of flames looking for a meal on the charred wood was the only sound as she finally stopped her wandering and eased onto an overstuffed chaise covered in a blue-and-white flowered fabric that hinted of spring and promised comfort.
Taking a breath, she let it slide from her lungs and stared unseeing out the window. Her own reflection wavered in the glass, highlighted by the last of the firelight, and behind her lay the empty room. And then he was there.
As if conjured from the racing thoughts in her mind, Jake appeared out of the shadows and stood right behind her. His reflection joined hers and as he looked at their mirrored selves, he asked quietly, “Why’re you sitting here in the dark?”
“There’s firelight still,” she said softly, gaze locked on the man in the glass. She could feel him behind her, and yet, the wavering figure in front of her had all of her attention. “Did I wake you?”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She wondered why. Was he feeling what she was? The restlessness that seemed to nibble at her insides? When he closed his eyes, did he see her? Did he feel that kiss they’d shared in the stable? Did he remember that flash of anticipation, expectation, that had jolted between them?
Even now, her body was tingling, and staring into his eyes, dark in the glass, made her feel that tingle light up and sing. Cass had been over this and over this in her mind. She’d gone through the whole “boss’s son” thing and she could admit, at least to herself, that she no longer cared. After all, it wasn’t as if she would run home to Boston and announce that she’d had sex with Elise’s son. No one had to know. This wasn’t forever. This was—she looked at him again and felt everything inside her turn over—necessary.