Call Of The West. Myrna Temte
A hot, achy sensation invaded her lower belly.
She felt as if the Universe had read her every fantasy of what a perfect kiss should be and delivered it all in one perfect, dizzying rush of pleasure.
Then he stiffened. As suddenly as he’d started kissing her, Jake yanked his mouth away. Hope opened her eyes and found him staring at her, looking shocked and disoriented, his broad chest heaving as if he were having trouble catching his breath. The sound of laughter and catcalls nearly drowned out the music.
A horrified expression crossed his face. He released her and stepped back so quickly she stumbled and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her elbow to steady her. The instant she found her balance, he let go again, muttering something that sounded like, “Sorry, Hope.”
Without another word, he turned and strode off. Hope glanced around at the other dancers and the guests seated at the tables, many of them Jake’s grinning relatives. Uh-oh. She gave them all a quelling scowl, then picked up her long skirt and hurried after Jake.
A devastating sense of disappointment washed over her to have such a wonderful moment spoiled. If she didn’t get to Jake in a hurry, he’d draw so far back into his shell, she’d never be able to coax or pry him out again. She found him leaning against the fence between the corral and the horse pasture, his elbows propped on the top rail, his back and shoulders as stiff as the fence posts.
From the far end of the pasture, a big, buckskin gelding raised his head and nickered, then ambled toward Jake. Hope smoothed down her dress and climbed onto the bottom fence rail, raising herself to his eye level. Three other horses followed the buckskin. Propping her arms beside Jake’s, Hope silently watched the animals approach, searching for something to say.
“Jake?” It wasn’t much, but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.
“You shouldn’t have come out here.”
His voice sounded gruff and not the least bit friendly, which wasn’t at all like the Jake she knew. He’d always been pleasant, even when she knew she was annoying the devil out of him. “You seemed…upset when you left.”
“I’m fine.”
She studied him closely. His eyes had become narrow slits. His nostrils flared. A muscle along the side of his jaw ticked madly. She’d heard he had a healthy temper but had never seen it. She suspected, however, she was about to make its acquaintance. How interesting.
“You’re not fine,” she said, using the same, patient tone she’d use with a pesky reporter. “I just had the most spectacular kiss of my entire life, but you’re definitely upset.”
His neck and ears turned a dark reddish color. “Leave it alone, Hope. Forget about that kiss, and—”
“Forget about it?” She laughed in astonishment at the very idea. “Oh, I don’t believe that’s likely to happen. I don’t believe you’re going to forget it, either.”
The horses arrived at the fence. Jake scratched the buckskin’s forehead. “That kiss never should’ve happened.”
“You’ve wanted to kiss me for weeks.” She patted a black mare’s glossy neck. “If you weren’t such a big coward—”
“Coward! You think I’ve been afraid to kiss you?”
“I’ve given you every encouragement but an engraved invitation. What other explanation could there be?”
“It never occurred to you that I might not’ve been interested in kissing you?”
She chuckled. Now she’d nicked his ego, and of course he had to retaliate. “Jake, Jake, Jake, there’s been a lovely little sizzle between us since we met last summer. Please, don’t even try to pretend you haven’t been aware of it.”
He gave her a frown hot enough to start a forest fire, but kept his voice low in deference, she assumed, to the horses. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about. I’m polite to most everybody and I try to be a gentleman where women are concerned, but—”
“It’s more than politeness—”
“Only in your dreams.”
Her own temper began to simmer, but she’d never let him see it. Rule Number Two for a Happy Universe—never let them see when words stung. She shot a meaningful glance at the fly of his slacks and grinned. “Funny, it didn’t feel like…politeness when you were kissing me.”
“Well, don’t turn any cartwheels over it. That’s never gonna happen again.”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked in her sweetest tone. “I believe you enjoyed that kiss as much as I did.”
He shooed the gelding and his equine pals away. “Go on now, you big moochers. I’ve got nothin’ for ya.” When they’d trotted to the middle of the pasture, he turned back to Hope. “Just because I enjoyed it, doesn’t mean it was a good idea.”
“Darling,” she chided, barely holding in a gurgling laugh. Who would’ve dreamed he’d be so absolutely adorable when he was in a snit? “Kissing me was the best idea you’ve had in months. In fact,” she paused and leaned closer to him, “I think you should do it again.”
“Dammit.” He let out an indignant huff. “Would you be serious for one minute?”
She tipped her head slightly to one side, pretending to consider his question, then cheerfully shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’re more than serious enough for both of us.”
Glaring at her, he tightened his big hands on the fence rail, giving her the impression he’d like to have them wrapped around her neck. “You don’t understand what we’ve just gotten ourselves into. My whole family and half of Sunshine Gap saw that kiss. The other half—hell, the whole stinkin’ county will know about it before morning.”
“The last I checked, we were both single and over twenty-one. What’s the big problem?”
“Every matchmaker in a hundred square miles is liable to be after us. If you stay here, the pressure for us to get together will be unbelievable.”
“So, why don’t we get together a few times?” It was difficult to keep a straight face since she’d only been trying to convince him to do just that for the past three months. “We might actually enjoy it.”
He shook his head so vigorously, his hair fell across his forehead, giving him a rumpled look that made him seem ten years younger. “No offense intended, but you’re not the kind of gal I’d ever date.”
It wasn’t easy to hold back a wince at such bluntness, but she managed. “Why not?”
“For one thing, we’ve got nothing in common.”
“That didn’t stop Blair and Dillon.”
“I’m not Dillon and you’re sure as heck not Blair.”
Oooh, that one smarted. She’d been unfavorably compared to Blair more than once and, while Hope didn’t care about hearing it from some people, she definitely minded hearing it from Jake. “We’re not very different from them.”
“Hey, at least Blair eats meat,” he said.
“That’s important?”
He snorted at her. “This is beef country. I’m a rancher. Yeah, it’s important.”
“Well, I don’t care if other people eat meat,” Hope protested. “I simply don’t like it.” In fact, red meat actually gagged her. Jake rolled his eyes as if what she’d said was silly. He had some nerve.
“Fine,” he said. “How about the age difference? I’m too old for you.”
Hope let out an incredulous huff. “You can’t be more than forty-five.”
“I’m only forty,” he grumbled. “But that’s still