Too Fast to Fall (Jackson Hole 1.10)

“No! I mean, yes. No. I’d love to come over. For lunch. Do you need me to pick anything up?”

Condoms, she squeaked inside her mind. But she was pretty s

ure she had a few left in her dresser from…the Jurassic era? No. From a year ago. When she’d met that cute doctor. Ugh. Cute and…efficient.

“No,” she said. “Unless you’d like wine? Since you don’t have to work later, I mean. I won’t be driving. Oh, I called about the class! I start in March. So don’t worry that I’m just trying to distract you with—um. Lunch. Or even wine. If you want it. Or if you don’t, that’s fine, too. Do you need my address? No, I guess you—”

“I’ll grab a bottle of wine. See you in thirty?”

“Yes!” She nearly sobbed in relief that her sudden chattering had been mercifully put down.

But she didn’t have time to worry about her spazzy methods of seduction. He was coming over. He was bringing wine. She was stubble free and fragrant. And…she didn’t have any idea what to make for lunch.

She started toward the kitchen, but before she’d even opened the fridge, she reversed course and ran for the bedroom. The top priority was looking delicious. She’d worry about her lack of food later.

More than half her wardrobe was jeans, but she rejected that idea out of hand. Jeans weren’t easy access. They didn’t encourage exploration. And she wanted to be explored like a new world with gold in its rivers. Or something.

She tried on a dress, then a skirt, then another dress. Then she put on the original dress and kicked the rest of the clothes back into her tiny closet. But as she shoved the door closed, she realized she looked like a woman who was going to dinner. Too much. Yanking the door open, she dug the black skirt out from the pile and slipped it on. She topped it with a pretty black bra and a blue sweater that always accidentally slipped off one shoulder when she wore it. “Oops,” she said with a smile when it immediately slid down to expose her skin.

She shook out her hair and fluffed it with her fingers, so thankful she’d kept up with the color her friend Grace had done for her. A subtle change to her natural blond, but just enough warmth to give her confidence. Not that a man was likely to notice such things, but she wanted to feel like a goddess when she threw her head back and rode Nate Hendricks into the sunset.

“Oh, Jesus,” she gasped, covering her face in horror at her own thoughts. She’d never do that, not with a man she barely knew. Just the idea of getting naked for him made her cheeks flame.

On one hand, she’d heard too many guys discussing women’s bodies in the saloon. Little digs about big thighs. Crueler digs about breasts that didn’t measure up or fat in all the wrong places.

On the other hand, she’d watched men fall head over heels for the plainest girl at the bar just because she made them laugh. Men who went starry-eyed at some obscure hobby he had in common with a girl who didn’t draw anyone else’s attention.

She didn’t know what to think about men anymore. Sometimes they seemed the simplest creatures in the world. And sometimes she was convinced they were more complex and sensitive than any women she’d ever known. All she could do was take off her clothes and enjoy the experience. Since he was a man, she had confidence he’d do the same. Another of their many gifts.

But on her way to the fridge to check the contents, she made one last detour to close all the blinds. Getting naked was one thing. Getting naked with a gorgeous new lover in the cold sunlight of midafternoon? She’d rather sell her car and leave town on the bus.

* * *

NATE STOOD IN FRONT of Jenny’s apartment door, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand and checking to see if his hair had dried with the other. He’d rushed through a shower, raced to the liquor store and arrived exactly thirty minutes after his call, but now he hesitated.

Somewhere between picking up the phone and walking up her stairs, he’d become confused about the visit. He’d meant to push her a little harder about Ellis. To find out what she knew, what the man had told her. He’d wanted someplace quiet where he could watch her face and listen closely to her voice for any tells. And then hopefully move on, set it aside and get to know this woman who’d been driving him crazy for months. But along the way, his logical plans had scattered like tumbleweeds. Actually, he knew exactly when his brain had started misfiring. It was when she’d nixed his perfect lunch date in favor of something more intimate.

Lunch. At her place. With wine.

His fingers squeezed the neck of the bottle and he knocked.

No reason he couldn’t stay on track with his plans. Maybe they’d get intimate. Maybe they’d have sex. But she wasn’t going to jump him as soon as she opened the door. He could still ask his questions. He could still step cautiously before deciding to move forward.

Then she opened the door, and he suddenly remembered the taste of her skin, and the sounds she’d made, and the way he’d fucked her in his fantasies that morning.

Her hair was down today. It slid past her shoulders in shiny blond waves. Her eyes glinted green in the sunlight, and her teeth pressed nervously into her plump bottom lip. When she spoke, Nate forced his gaze away from her mouth to meet her eyes.

“Come in!” she announced, stepping back and drawing his attention to her bare feet and red toes. Then her bare legs. And the short black skirt. His brain flashed to an image he’d had that morning, of parting her legs and putting his mouth to her pale, sweet thigh. And then higher.

Oh, fuck.

“I think this was a bad idea,” she said, and he yanked his eyes from their unfortunate journey up her legs. “I shouldn’t have invited you over.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“The only thing I have here is breakfast food. I can make eggs and home fries. God, I don’t even have any bacon. An omelet, maybe? I’m sorry. I just wanted…” Her voice faded into an uncertain quiet.

Nate’s mind was still spinning, but he latched onto her last word. “You wanted what?”