Sarah's Surrender (Ranchers of Chatum County 2)

She blinked up at him. Why the heck had he told her he had whatever she wanted? She was silent as he walked over to a sideboard and opened it. He held the cabinet door ajar and looked inside. “Tequila. Bourbon. Rum. Vodka. Gin.” His dark voice rang out as he sank to his haunches and moved a few things aside and then stood again. “No scotch.”

“Vodka and whatever juice you have.”

“Orange juice is all I drink.”

“That’s fine.”

“A Screwdriver it is.” He lifted a glass down from an overhead rack and filled it with ice.

“Make it light, please.”

“No problem.”

Sarah stood to the side as he mixed the drink. He popped his beer can open and handed her the glass. Standing in front of her, he held his can toward her in the universal signal to make a toast. “Here’s to getting to know each other in the least possible amount of time.”

“That’s not very nice.” She clinked her glass to his can of beer anyway, lifted it and took a small sip. It wasn’t super strong, but it was in no way ‘light’.

“No?” he asked. “Thought you wanted to get to know each other.”

“Yes, I do. Just—never mind. This is good.” She took another sip and savored the orange flavor before swallowing and enjoying the small spread of heat that the vodka induced. Even as she enjoyed the drink, she admonished herself to be careful.

“Let’s go outside and sit. We can have a few drinks and loosen up a bit before we eat.”

“We can’t have too many or you won’t be able to drive.”

John ignored that comment and ushered her out the back door. There was no sense riling her and telling her that he didn’t intend on taking her home tonight. That could come later, after he got some more vodka down her. He had no plans to get her drunk and take advantage of her, but why the hell shouldn’t she stay the night? He liked the thought of her being around for a few days; the vision of her padding around barefoot in the morning came to him and filled him with pleasure. The realization that he’d never wanted another woman in his house since his wife had died crept up on him and beat a silent warning that he forced to the back of his brain.

He led her down a cobbled path until they reached a large gazebo he had built a few years before. He had put built-in seating all around the inside, and he propelled her to a bench seat with outdoor cushions.

She sat down, and he sat at an angle to her, so he could study her. A person could see everything Sarah was thinking and feeling right there in her eyes, and he planned on picking up every nuance and learning all he could from her. He needed to know what made her tick, so he could more easily push her buttons.

He took a drink of beer and let his eyes wander over her. “You have the most gorgeous lips.” He hadn’t meant to start hitting on her immediately, the words just slipped out as he was trying to think of something that would be appropriate in the ‘getting to know you phase,’ something that would put her at ease and loosen up that steel rod in her spine.

Her eyes dropped to her drink and she took a quick sip. “You think?”

He studied her, looking for a flaw. “Yeah. Your mouth is perfect.”

“My teeth are bucked.”

He almost groaned out loud. “They damn sure are.”

Sarah heard the groan he tried to stifle and her fingers trembled as she took another sip. The way that he agreed with her made her think that he liked her teeth. There was nothing negative in his tone at all. On the contrary, he studied her lips and she had the feeling he was trying not to reach out and touch her.

She’d always been a lightweight, and the vodka was warming her insides already. “How old are you?” She couldn’t believe she asked that out loud. Smooth, Sarah. The question popped into her head and the words came flying out.

“Thirty-two. You?” His hand reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Twenty-seven.”

“That old, huh?” He teased her. “You’ve got a lot of living left yet.”

She had a past he knew nothing about. Maybe it wasn’t fair that she knew about his marriage and he knew nothing about hers. Well, she didn’t know about his marriage, only that there had been one and it had ended tragically. “I’ve lived quite a bit already. Or it feels like it.”

“Why do you say that? Is a classroom full of teenagers that much hell?” he questioned her.

She laughed softly at that. “They’re not too bad.” She took a moment to observe him closely while he took a sip of his beer.

He was watching her watch him. His mouth broke into a small grin as she continued to study him. “What?” he asked in that deep voice of his.

“Did you really quit smoking because you know I don’t like it?”

“Yeah. Trying to, anyway.”

“Why?”

“What are you fishing for here, babe? You want me to make it all romantic for you or tell you the truth?”

“Oh, I think I already know the truth, so let’s go the romantic route.”

He hesitated a moment and then touched her hair again, pushing it behind her ear the same way he had done seconds before. Heat went through Sarah as she realized that through all his smooth talk he was seriously having a hard time keeping his hands off her. His thumb softly caressed her ear and then lowered to her cheek. He took a deep breath. “Romance, huh?” At her nod, he continued, “You’re beautiful,” he started slowly and then seemed to get into the groove. “You’re sweet and kind and deserve someone special.” His hand moved back to her hair and her eyes were glued to his, waiting. “I’ll never be someone special. I’m just an ordinary guy. But if it’s within my power to be even a tenth of what you deserve, I’m going to try my damndest.”

Sarah knew she should blink, but she couldn’t seem to remember how. Her gaze was tangled with his, and what started out soft and teasing turned into something so much deeper. His eyes wouldn’t let hers go and with an ache in her heart, she wondered if he really believed he wasn’t special. What he said was almost magical, and she was scared to respond; she so didn’t trust him not to ruin the moment. She wanted to say thank you, she wanted to tell him he was special. But she was scared he would respond sarcastically and so she just stayed silent.

After a moment, he dropped his hand from her hair and cleared his throat. “Which part of Dallas do you live in?”

She took a deep breath, tried to focus on the present and named an area of town north of the city.

“Live in an apartment?”

“I have a condo.” She thought of her small, one-bedroom condo with a sinking feeling. She wished she could sell it and never go back.

“You live alone?”

His voice was deep and his question held something she couldn’t readily identify. Maybe concern that she lived alone? Maybe he was wondering if she had been living with Randall? “Yes.”

He took a drink of his beer as if he was satisfied with her answer. “When is your birthday?”

“October twenty-eighth. When is yours?”

“February twenty-ninth.”

The date hit Sarah as odd until she realized why. “Get out.”

“Seriously.”

“That’s so sad.” All she could think of was that he only had one real birthday every four years.

“Nah. It’s unique. I felt special as a kid.”

“That’s sweet. Are your parents still alive?”

“Yep. And still married. They’re retired and living in Florida. How about yours?”

“My parents divorced when I was young. My dad is dead now and my mom is remarried and living in Australia.”

“Australia.” He said it like it was a world away and she guessed that was true. He continued to watch her. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s happy and we Skype a lot.”

“Have you ever thought about moving there?”

“No. I’ve got the farm. I’m never leaving it.” She determined to keep the farm, if nothing else.

“The land gets in your blood, doesn’t it?”

“It does. It’s almost a physical pain to be away nine months out of the year.” It was something her friends in the Dallas area didn’t understand. How a plot of land could mean so much to her that she would up and leave every summer.

“So you don’t feel the same way about your condo?” he asked.

“Not at all. It’s homey and nice, but it’s just a place to live.”

“Why don’t you move here, then?”

“The same reason I’m trying to get you to fund the retirement home. Lack of jobs. I couldn’t find work if I tried. The school doesn’t need teachers and there isn’t anything else available.”