Montana Rescue (The Wildes of Birch Bay Book 2) (5 page)

There were supposed to have kids.

The thought of all she’d lost had her turning away and heading back toward her helicopter. She’d talked enough for one day. Nick let her lead for several minutes before catching up, but he didn’t immediately speak. When they came out of the trees, though, and the helo sat across the field in front of them, he finally broke the silence. And she appreciated his levity.

“So is that thing your only means of transportation?”

She smiled halfheartedly. “I also own a four-wheel-drive truck, as well as a jeep.”

“No car for you?”

“Cars don’t always go where I want to take them.” They reached the perimeter of the helicopter, and she turned to him. “But I’d just finished up a job today. Hadn’t made it back home yet.”

“What do you do?”

“Whatever someone will pay me for.” She spent a couple of minutes filling him in on the types of fares she contracted for. Tours over Glacier National Park, a pickup or drop-off from airports, showing realtors and potential buyers around the area.

“You stay busy?”

“I do okay.” Only, she didn’t do what they’d purchased the helicopter for. She glanced toward the lake once again. “So . . . tomorrow?”

“You’re not going to try to make me puke again, are you?”

She deadpanned. “Only if you get on my nerves again.”

“Well, I’m not sure I can promise not to do that.” He smiled at her then. It wasn’t the panty-dropping, making-women-beg-at-his-feet smile that he seemed to enjoy bandying about so much . . . but it was potent enough. In fact, she had the same reaction to this one as she’d had when he
had
turned the super-sexy smile on her. She got hot all over.

But the thing was, she’d thought her response was about attraction. A simple reawakening of her libido. Only, at the moment, it wasn’t merely parts of her coming back to life. It was desire. It was
hunger
.

She wanted sex, and she wanted it with Nick.

The realization floored her.

“Let me pay you for the ride tomorrow.”

She looked down her nose at him. “As if.”

Then he shifted and leaned in. It was a subtle move, but she couldn’t miss it. He was crowding her. Testing her boundaries. And her internal panic button blazed to life.

And what she realized was that just because she had a reawakened urge to do more than lie alone in her own bed at night, it
d
idn’t
necessarily mean she was actually ready to do more. She took a step back. “We’ll call it a favor for my little sister’s friend,” she suggested.

“How about a favor for
your
friend?”

Her pulse thumped harder. Did friendship come with responsibilities she wasn’t ready for?

Nick studied her as she battled with her internal dialogue, and she sensed that he wouldn’t let her tease the moment away. He was pushing her, seeing where she’d let him in. But she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Because she didn’t know the answer. Friendship somehow seemed scarier than the idea of sex.

“Could you use a friend, Harper?”

“I—”

“Because
I
could use one.”

The moment had grown heavy once again. “I somehow suspect that you have all the friends you need, Mr. Montana’s Favorite Cowboy. You certainly didn’t seem to be lacking for any Saturday night.”

Interest flared in his eyes at her words, and she realized he could take them to mean that she’d been watching him at the rodeo last weekend. As she had been. But he politely didn’t point that out.

Instead, his voice lowered, and he said, “But I don’t have any who know my secrets.”

Shock froze her. Nick Wilde had secrets? He seemed so carefree.

“I’ll pick you up here after lunch.” She backed toward the cockpit door. She didn’t want to talk about secrets, his
or
hers. “I have an early charter in the morning, but I’ll be here by one.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Forcing herself to break eye contact, she turned and climbed into the cockpit. Her hands were shaking as she powered up, but she ignored them. She didn’t know
what
she wanted from Nick. Someone to talk to? Sex? A friend?

And what were his secrets?

Dang. He had her all kinds of confused.

But more than that, he had her all kinds of interested.

Chapter Five

T
hat’s eight seconds for Jeb Mauley, folks!”

Nick kept his face impassive as he stood, arms slung over the top rung of the gate, and waited for his competitor’s score to be announced. It was night one in Great Falls, and it seemed everyone had upped their game. Especially the rookie out of Fort Benton. Nick’s agent had already pointed the same fact out several times that evening, until Nick had barked at him to find someone else to annoy. It wasn’t that Nick was overly concerned with one event. He never won every competition. Nobody did. It was that Charlie had also been badgering him about the PBR all night.

Jeb’s score flashed on the scoreboard hanging above the crowd, and Nick pressed his lips together. That was a good score.

“That kid might just beat you this weekend.”

He glanced over to find Harper standing next to him, her arms slung over the gate like his.

She nodded toward Jeb. “He seems to be on a streak. Nipping at your heels last weekend, and that score right there just overtook yours.”

“It’s only day one of the competition.”

“I’m just saying . . .”

Nick frowned at her. “It’s not a crime not to win every weekend.”

“No,” she mused. Her head tilted slightly. “But if you’re ‘the man’ . . .”

Which was the exact problem he was having tonight. Everyone expected him to be “the man.” “Jeb’s good,” he pointed out. “He’s going to win a few.”

“True. But he’s going at it like maybe
he
wants to be the man,” Harper teased. Mischief danced in her eyes “I mean . . . watch him. He’s not giving you an inch.”

Nick didn’t reply. He merely squinted at her in frustration. Because he very much suspected that Jeb not only could be the man—with a bit more time—but that he someday would be.

They both turned their attention to the next rider readying in the chute. The guy’s spotter was a friend of Nick’s. They’d met his first year out on his own, and Nick had pulled him into the sport. The bull dropped his front legs and twisted before the rider could get properly seated, nearly pinning his leg between the bull and the back gate, and Nick and Harper both sucked in a sharp breath. The spotter jabbed at the bull just in time.

“It’s a dangerous sport,” Harper murmured.

“Definitely not for the faint of heart.” A leg could easily be crushed by that move.

The rider repositioned himself, gave his okay, and the gate opened. And within three seconds the bull was riderless. The crowd groaned, and Nick looked back over at Harper. Their flight to get his truck the day before had been uneventful. They’d surpassed the weather and mundane topics they’d stuck to the first time, but he wouldn’t say they’d breached the line of personal either—other than that brief moment on the farm earlier in the week.

But personal or not, they
had
talked for the full length of the ride. And whether she recognized it or not, they
were
becoming friends. They’d had a good time the day before. Her showing up at his side tonight only reiterated the budding friendship.

“Jewel turned you loose for a while?” Friends or not, though, what he couldn’t figure out was why he’d tossed out the idea that
he
could use someone to share secrets with.

“She’s got it under control.”

“She doing okay?”

“Puking her guts up every few minutes.” Harper shot him an annoyed look. “I swear she purposely waited until Bobby was out of town to start that.”

He chuckled. “Probably not exactly her plan.”

“I know.” She turned her gaze back to the arena, but Nick kept an eye on her for a moment longer. A tiny flicker of sadness had flashed across her face right before she’d looked away. She was good at hiding it, but it was there. All the time.

And
that
was why he wanted to be her friend.

They both continued watching the action in the arena, their eyes on the bullfighter now entertaining the crowd, but Nick spent the time thinking about Harper. He liked her. A lot. He would give his left nut to sleep with her. But she wasn’t like the women he usually went for.

Instead of curvy and soft, she was tough and strong—which blew the top off of hot. She marched entirely to her own drum. But he also suspected that sleeping with
him
wasn’t what she needed at the moment. Him poking at her, trying to have a few nights of fun, might only soothe
his
needs. And he wasn’t into that.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t attracted to him. He’d seen her attraction at his place. Where she’d also given him a peek at how much she’d loved her husband.

An arm circled him from behind, and he looked down, taking in the pink nails and long, narrow fingers now laying flat against his chest, and he knew in an instant who it was. Betsy breathed out a flirty laugh behind him as her body pressed into his back, her softness and heat grazing him to midthigh. He smiled in welcome, turning so she could slip in between Harper and him, and Harper glanced their way. Her brows inched up when Betsy snuggled in tight, but she didn’t say anything.

“I missed you this week,” Betsy singsonged. She lifted to her toes. “And Jeb wasn’t half the man you are,” she whispered hotly in his ear. “Please tell me I’ll be in your bed tonight.”

Harper’s brows rose even more with that, and she very carefully didn’t look at them.

“I . . .” Nick started. He swallowed. He hadn’t given Betsy the first thought, neither during the week nor tonight. And honestly, if he weren’t at least thinking about a woman once in a while, should he be sleeping with her? “Bets.” He untwined her body from his, and nodded toward Harper. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Harper Stone.”

Harper shifted on her feet, looking as uncomfortable as
he
felt, and said hello to Betsy. Then her hazel gaze flicked quickly to his before once again shifting away, and that brief glance left him furrowing his brow. What had that look been about? He’d swear it was determination.

But determination to do what?

Betsy turned back to him, and Nick took her hands in his before she could reattach herself. “I’ll holler at you later, okay?”

A bad-girl smile immediately covered her face. “I’m going to hold you to that, champ.” She lifted to her toes again, this time whispering details far more comprehensive as to her wishes for that evening, and he almost blushed.

His gaze shot to Harper, and by the stiffness of her posture, he knew she’d overheard.

Betsy walked away then, and he took the moment to track her movements. Her skirt, barely covering her round bottom, was ultrashort, leaving her legs bare and mouthwatering, and her top left a two-inch gap of skin showing at her trim waist. She was looking seriously banging tonight. And he found that it did nothing for him.

Damn.

When he finally turned back to Harper, intending to shrug an apology her way for Betsy’s blatant proposition, he was caught off guard by her proximity. He had only a second to register details. She was within inches of him,
her
body heat now tickled at his, and the soft scent of baby powder drifted up to his nose.

Then she burrowed one hand under the back of his hat . . . and pulled his mouth down to hers.

He stood rooted in shock before groaning when Harper’s tongue slipped between his lips.

The lady knew how to kiss. Her lips were soft and warm. Plush. And she attacked the act as if there would be only one chance to get it right. She lifted her other hand to hold his head in place, knocking his hat to the ground as she deepened her exploration, and he finally registered that he was standing there letting her lead. Letting her do everything!

His hands sought out her hips, intending to take control, and he tugged her closer. And damned if her tight body didn’t immediately mold to his. He grew rock hard in an instant. She tasted like funnel cake, and he decided it was his favorite treat in the world. But then she pulled back as abruptly as she’d started the kiss. She blinked, looked at his mouth. And then took a step back.

After she walked away—without saying another word—Nick spent a full fifteen seconds simply focusing on breathing. What in the hell had that been about?

Because damn, he had not seen it coming. But his next question was the more important one. When would he get to experience it again?

Later that evening, the sounds of retching hit Harper’s ears for the sixth time in as many hours, and she grimaced in commiseration with her sister. The poor thing. Harper rose from where she’d been watching the local news in her hotel room, and passed through the open connecting doors. She reached Jewel’s bathroom and put a hand to the door.

“Can I do anything to help?” She’d asked this same lame question the five previous times she’d been in this situation today, but she didn’t know what else she could do.

“No.” Jewel’s voice barely whispered out . “I’m sorry it’s happening again.”

Harper dropped her forehead to the door. “It’s not your fault, hon.” Harper had not been the most sympathetic sister when it came to this part of Jewel’s pregnancy—she could freely admit that. But she just didn’t have it in her.

“Can you get me a soda?” Jewel’s weak voice croaked out. “Caffeine free.”

“Sure thing.”

Harper hurried back to her own room and grabbed the room key and a handful of change, then zipped a hoodie on over her T-shirt and slipped out into the night. They were staying in an old-but-charming two-story motel with a basket of flowers and a single rocking chair gracing each room’s porch, and earlier, Harper had spotted vending machines tucked beneath the set of whitewashed concrete stairs. As she headed in that direction, she thought back over the day. For her first weekend helping her sister, it had gone well. There had been the vomiting, yes. And Harper’s guilty desire to be anywhere but here. But she’d also easily gotten a handle on the tasks at hand and had been an asset to Jewel. Plus, she’d enjoyed the atmosphere.

It wasn’t as if she’d never been to a rodeo before. One couldn’t very well call themselves a Montanan and not have attended rodeos over the years. She’d just never been a part of the back end of things.

And though her favorite event in past years had been barrel racing—her best friend in high school had been captain of the girls’ barrel racing team—these days, she found her preference leaning more toward bull riding. And it had absolutely everything to do with one tall, sexy cowboy. Whom she’d had her lips on earlier that day.

She pulled Jewel’s soda from the dispenser and fed in enough money for a second, then paused long enough to press the tips of her fingers to her lips. Christ Almighty, Nick Wilde was hot.

But seriously, what in the world had gotten into her?

She somehow doubted he’d let her pretend the kiss hadn’t happened. And really, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pretend it away. Because she might want to do it again.

She hadn’t seen him since she’d walked away. Between helping with the stock and providing needed sympathy to her sister, she’d been too busy. But now that the evening was over and she could let herself think, she couldn’t help but scold herself for allowing jealousy to rear its head.

One minute she’d been standing there trying to avoid watching “Bets” wiggling herself all over Nick, and the next minute she’d wanted to be the one Nick wiggled with.

She pressed the button for a drink for herself and scanned the parking lot as the bottle tumbled to the dispenser. The small, paved area was loaded with pickups of all sizes, but it was the brown metallic four-door parked ten spots away that held her interest. Nick was staying in the same hotel as them.

Was Betsy in his room tonight?

The question made her want to bang her head against the machine.

Only, her next question was even more embarrassing than the first. Was he thinking about
her
while sleeping with Betsy? It was a humiliating thought, but she owned it. She wanted Nick thinking of her—picturing her—whether he hooked up with the cute strawberry-blonde tonight or not. Which was why she’d kissed him. And wrong on so many levels.

She wasn’t the jealous type. Never had been. And even if she were, there was no reason to be jealous of Betsy. Nick and Harper were nothing to each other. They wouldn’t
be
anything.