The Ryders: Jared, Royce and Stephanie. Barbara Dunlop
It was unprincipled, immoral, probably illegal in most states.
“It wasn’t—”
“It was.” He forced himself back, hands tightening by his sides as he put some distance between them. The torrential rain was still dripping through the open windows, and he slammed one window shut, then the next and finally the third, taking some of his frustration out on the inanimate objects. He’d never felt this way before, never desired a woman so quickly and thoroughly. Yet he was wrong to feel this way, and he had to make it stop.
“Jared?” Her voice was tentative, and he felt like a complete jerk.
He latched the final window, then turned back to face her. Her hair was wet, messy from his hands. The damp blue tank top clung to her breasts, highlighting her nipples. Her eyes were round, sea-foam green and confused.
“I’m mad at myself,” he assured her. “Not at you.”
She took a step forward. “It was my fault, too. How about we forget it happened?”
“Can you forget it happened?” He’d give it a shot, but he wasn’t holding out much hope.
“Sure.” She nodded, offering a small smile. “Easy.”
She seemed sincere, and he tried not to be offended. Maybe he’d imagined their explosive passion. Maybe to her it had been a simple ordinary kiss. He gave himself a split second to ponder exactly who the hell else she’d been kissing like that, but then he acknowledged that it was none of his business.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “Sure,” he forced out, adjusting his damp shirt and raking his fingers through his hair. “We’ll just forget it ever happened.”
Melissa glanced down and plucked at her own wet shirt. Then she quickly folded her arms across her breasts. Just as well, Jared told himself. Her clinging clothes were turning him on. So were her swollen lips and messy hair.
“You have a comb?” he asked.
She shook her head. “It’s in my bag downstairs.”
He realized they couldn’t risk leaving the room with her looking like this, so he steeled himself against the inevitable reaction and moved toward her.
Her arms stayed protectively crossed over her breasts, so he reached for the hair clip. “I’ll just …” He raked spread fingers through the mess, straightening out the worst of it, wondering how he’d ever manage to get the clip back in.
A voice called from the hallway. “Jared?” The door burst open, and Stephanie instantly appeared.
He and Melissa both jumped guiltily back, her covering her breasts, him holding her hair clip.
Stephanie stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry.” But she didn’t look sorry in the least. A broad grin grew on her face and her eyes sparkled in delight.
Barry Salmon and Hal Norris halted behind her. All three of them stared at the incriminating scene.
Jared inwardly groaned. Why the hell hadn’t he kept his hands to himself? Melissa’s reputation was about to tumble over the falls and be washed down the Windy River. Why the hell hadn’t he kept his hands to himself?
She was the first to speak. “It’s not what you—”
But he cut her off. “I was inviting Melissa to join us for dinner,” he told Stephanie, giving the two cowboys a warning glare.
“I knew it!” Stephanie beamed.
“The rain blew right in the windows,” he went on, to explain their appearance. Then he handed Melissa the hair clip. “Thanks for your help.”
She gave him a puzzled expression. “There’s no need—”
He stopped her with a stare. There was every need to protect her reputation, not to mention his own. She’d be gone in a week. In the meantime, he’d rather have the ranch staff think they were dating than carrying on a clandestine affair in the stable office.
He turned to his sister. “Did you need me for something?”
“Royce just called,” said Stephanie. “He’s at the airport.”
“A day early?” That surprised Jared. He hoped nothing was wrong.
“And McQuestin called,” Hal put in. “Some of the herd’s still in the south canyon, and there’s a risk of flooding down there.”
“Hal and Barry are going to take half a dozen men,” said Stephanie, but her goofy gaze was still on Melissa.
Jared knew he’d have to deal with his sister’s letdown later. But at the moment, seeing the pure joy on Stephanie’s face, he was inclined to wait until they got through the graveside visit on Sunday. He wondered if Melissa would be willing to go along with the charade. It would definitely distract Stephanie from missing their grandfather.
“Do you need me?” Jared asked Hal. He hadn’t played cowboy in a few years, but he was ready and able if they needed an extra hand.
Hal shook his graying head. “Should be done by dark.”
Jared gave the man a nod of acknowledgment. Then he looked at Stephanie. “I’ll be right down.”
She all but winked in return as she pulled the door shut.
“What are you thinking? “ Melissa demanded as the footsteps receded down the hall.
“That you cared about your reputation.” He stated the obvious.
“This isn’t 1950.”
“It’s also not Vegas. It’s Montana.”
“People don’t kiss in Montana?”
“They didn’t know we were just kissing.”
“But …” Melissa took a step back.
“Your lips,” he told her softly. “Your hair, your clothes. You look like you just tumbled out of a haystack.”
“But we didn’t do anything.”
“We thought about it,” he told her gruffly. “And it shows.”
Her glance went down to her chest. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Melissa swiftly pulled her hair to the base of her neck and fastened it with the clip. “What about Stephanie? You know what she’s going to think.”
Jared nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Melissa raised her brows.
“Would you mind playing along for a few days? Have dinner with us, pretend you like me, just enough to make Stephanie think there’s a possibility we’ll fall for each other.”
Melissa seemed genuinely astonished. “Why? Why would you do that to your own sister?”
“You saw how excited she was,” Jared pointed out.
“Yes. And I know how disappointed she’s going to be when she finds out the truth. Not to mention how ticked off she’s going to be at you.”
“Who says she has to find out?”
“I’m leaving in a few days.”
“That’s perfect,” he said. “It’ll get us through Sunday. Then we’ll act like it didn’t work out. She’ll be disappointed, sure. But she’ll also be past the hard part of commemorating our parents’ deaths and remembering how much she misses her grandfather.”
“I don’t think you can postpone grieving.”
“Sure, you can.” You could postpone it. You could ignore it. And you could replace it. With, for example, anger.
Melissa shook her head. “I’m not