Sage Creek (22 page)

“I’m . . . sorry. It’s awful.”

“Almost as bad is the fact that Ivy hasn’t seen Lynelle since that day. Neither have I—which is fine with me.” His eyes were cold. “She sent Ivy a couple of notes, a birthday card here and there. And let me know where she was long enough so that we could get our divorce. She didn’t fight me on full custody, didn’t want a penny. Just her freedom, apparently. And now . . . who knows if Lynelle even remembers she
has
a child, much less ever thinks about her.”

“What about Ivy? Does she ever ask about her mother?”

“She had nonstop questions at first. That ended a few years ago. Now she never mentions Lynelle—in fact, she changes the subject if anyone else does. The last time Lynelle sent a birthday card, Ivy read it, tucked it in a drawer, and didn’t say a single word about it. At least, not to me.”

But she must think about her mother,
Sophie realized. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a mother who ran off and never looked back. Who’d leave her child alone and vulnerable on a town bench and desert her husband without a word. She thought about her own mother, who’d brushed her hair until it shone every morning when she was small, and taken her to the library whenever she wanted to go, and read her stories for nearly an hour at bedtime each night. Who’d somehow always known when she most needed a hug. Who’d made Halloween costumes for her and Wes, and smoothed things over when Hoot was at his most critical. Who’d gone to bat for her when Doug Hartigan was the bogey man making Sophie’s life miserable.

And who had welcomed her back to Lonesome Way with open and supportive arms.

She swallowed. Ivy had Rafe, and she was far luckier than she knew, but Sophie’s heart grieved for everything the little girl had missed out on.

And at the mountain of hurt that must still ache inside her.

And Rafe? Did he miss Lynelle too? It didn’t seem so. He claimed he’d never loved her, but he’d never married again....

“More than you wanted to know, I’d bet.”

“No, I’m glad you told me.”

“You sure?” His lips curled in a rueful grin. “It’s a lot more than you bargained for. You must be wondering what kind of a date this is.”

“This isn’t a date, remember? You said so.”

“Did I?” The heaviness seemed to have fallen from his broad shoulders. With that grin spreading across his face, Rafe looked suddenly much more like that mischievous young cowboy she remembered. Only harder, tougher, and if possible, sexier than he’d been back then. His eyes glinted beneath that shock of dark hair, and he suddenly rolled over and swept her beneath him on the grass.

“We need to lighten things up,” he said softly, bracing himself above her. “Have some fun. For the rest of the day, we’re concentrating on us.”

“Us? There’s an us?” She tried not to stare at the bulge of impressive chest muscles beneath his white tee. And instead found herself staring at his mouth. Equally dangerous. Feeling breathless, she pushed herself up on her elbows, trying to regain her equilibrium, but that only brought her closer to his mouth—and to that powerful chest. She was in trouble now.

She wanted to kiss him.

“There’s definitely an us.” Rafe’s smile could’ve melted rock. Shifting, he smoothed a wisp of her hair back from her cheek, his touch gentle, but the look in his eyes would make any woman moan in anticipation. She knew everything, what he wanted to do, what he was going to do . . . unless she stopped him.

But she didn’t want to stop him.

A fire started deep inside her, and she knew if it wasn’t banked soon, it would go out of control....

“I’m going to kiss you now, Sophie. More than once. Just so you know. If you have any objections, speak now or . . . you know the rest.”

Maybe she should listen. Maybe she should push him away. But she didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Just for a little while, she’d pretend not to hear the warning voice telling her to keep him at arm’s length....

“Go for it, cowboy,” she heard herself dare him breathlessly, her hands digging into his shoulders, pulling him down toward her because she not only wanted to kiss him, Sophie knew she
needed
to right that very minute.

Tingles raced through her as he brushed his mouth against hers. His lips were firm and warm and they felt just right, molding against hers as if memorizing them for all time.

It was a long kiss, deep and slow. Excruciatingly sexy.

Besides the kiss in the kitchen at the Good Luck ranch, it was the best kiss she’d ever known. But the next one took her under. It was even deeper, softer and somehow more intimate than the one before.

“You . . . taste so good.” Rafe’s voice was rough as he came up for air, staring into her eyes with a dark intensity that might have scared her if she didn’t feel so safe lying here with him.

“Don’t stop now, cowboy. Don’t you dare stop.”

She pulled his head down as he grinned. She needed to kiss him again, but even as her mouth clung to his, she knew
she
should be the one to stop. She should be careful, stay in control, but she couldn’t. Not yet. It felt too good. Too right. Completely right.

“Not a chance of that,” he whispered, his hot mouth against hers. “Not unless you tell me to.”

The way he kissed her next left her no breath or will to tell him anything.

She was dizzy, breathless as his hands explored her body. She stroked her fingers across the muscles of his back, down to his taut butt as their tongues circled and danced, and a crazy warmth spun through her.

They were both breathing hard as his hands roamed over her, slid beneath her sweatshirt and lace bra, and found her breast, even as he tasted her mouth again, his tongue and teeth rougher this time.

Sophie moaned, drowning in a haze of pleasure. Then she was clutching at his shirt, her fingers flying at the buttons. The next thing she knew, they were locked together on the cool thick grass and her sweatshirt was somewhere, tossed aside. So was his shirt.
What was she doing?

He flung off her bra and stroked her breasts, caressing her as raw heat tore like wildfire through her.

“Rafe, this is . . . crazy,” she gasped, then gave a quick, intake of breath as he thumbed her nipple. “Completely . . . crazy,” she breathed. Her hands had stilled upon his broad, strong back.

“But good crazy,” he whispered with a grin, drawing back to look into her eyes. “God, Sophie, you’re so beautiful.”

Her hair spilled like wild honey across the grass, and her face was flushed the most delicate seashell pink he’d ever seen. He was hard and wanted her so much. He’d been wanting her since that night at the Double Cross, not admitting it to himself. But every time he saw her, he thought about her more. He hadn’t felt this way about any woman ever. He didn’t just want to have sex with her, he wanted to spend time with her, look at her, listen to her. And yeah, have sex with her.

She was gorgeous and kind and sweet in a way that drew him in no matter how much he tried not to get attached. There was a quiet strength about her that was every bit as alluring as those green eyes and the way she smiled and the faint huskiness of her voice.

He noticed a faint sheen at her hairline and her lips were red and moist from his kisses. He wanted to take in, breathe in, all of her. Now.

He pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat and felt her tremble.

His mouth trailed lower, until his tongue flicked at one lovely nipple, licking and swirling and teasing its nail-hard peak with his teeth until she gasped and her hands fisted in his hair.

Sophie was losing all control. She opened her eyes as Rafe’s hand slid to the button on her jeans, flicked it open. He started working the zipper down, and she realized suddenly that if they didn’t stop now, there’d be
no
stopping....

An oh-so-tempting thought, but . . .

Sanity was flooding back like a waterfall unleashed. She shifted suddenly, panicking, and put a hand on his arm. “No. W-wait . . . stop.”

His finger paused on the zipper. He drew in his breath.

“I don’t think . . . We shouldn’t. . . .”

“Yeah, we should, baby. We really should. But . . . it’s okay.” He shifted away from her, managing to smile though the tension searing him was almost unbearable. She looked stunned, panicked.
Too much, too soon,
he thought. He should have known better.

But man, he’d lost track of everything for a while there. How recent her divorce was . . . how much she’d been hurt. Even how careful he always was about who he slept with and why, and how it was just sex and laughs and maybe friendship, but nothing more....

This was nothing like he’d ever done before. He’d never had these intense feelings or this sense of loss as she quickly fastened her bra and pulled on her sweatshirt.

Damn, his blood was still pounding. She was killing him here. But he took a deep breath and fought down the need and the tension so close to exploding inside him as he pulled on his shirt.

Her cheeks were bright pink as she fastened her jeans and scrambled to her feet.

“This was . . . It was great, don’t get me wrong, but I . . . I’m not ready for this . . . for more . . . for anything, really . . . not yet, and I don’t know when . . .” She drew in her breath, hoping she sounded calm and logical and in control, even though she was struggling for composure.

The truth was she liked him too much.
Much too much
. She had to find her equilibrium again, the careful self-possession that got her through the days and nights since the divorce. Rafe Tanner had all but destroyed it with his kissing and touching and tasting, with the way he grinned at her and looked at her. And with the way he made her feel.

To her surprise, he reached out and smoothed her tangled hair back from her face.

“Don’t think I don’t want you right here, right now, Sophie, because I do. More than you know. I want to do things to you—with you—but you need to do what
you
have to do and”—his voice was quiet—“I’ll wait until you’ve figured out exactly what you want.”

“You’ll . . . but . . . who knows how long that will be?” She was muttering half to herself. She sounded like a lunatic.

“I’m counting on it not being
too
long.” Smiling, he traced a finger over her lips. “In the meantime, I’ll wait.”

“Why?” Sophie stared at him. Her heart skipped a few beats under that piercing midnight blue gaze.

“A few things are worth waiting for in this world,” he said quietly. “And something tells me you’re one of them.” The flash of his smile felt like dynamite under her skin. She couldn’t think what to say.

“Come on.” He took her hand, pulling her toward the horses. “It’s getting late. It’ll be dark soon and I promised you a barbecue.”

Chapter Seventeen

The sun was melting in a lilac and rose sky when they reached Sage Ranch, and from inside the house, Starbucks was barking furiously. Hoarse, frantic barks, Rafe realized. Not his usual welcoming ones.

Just as the first trace of uneasiness hit his gut, he spotted the smashed corral fence.

“What the hell.” He was out of the saddle and running in a flash. Fury tore through him.

A good chunk of the north side of the fence was down. It looked like someone had taken an axe to it. Weathered white rails lay in splintered heaps in the dirt, and the horses were running restlessly back and forth in a cluster at the far end of the corral.

Sliding off Belle, Sophie raced after him, a chill wiggling down her spine as she reached his side and stared at the savaged remnants of his fence.

“Who would
do
this?” Dismayed, she watched Rafe crouch down to more closely examine the damage.

“Damned if I know. But then, I wondered the same thing about whoever let the air out of your tires.”

As his words sank in, her gaze flew to his face. “You can’t believe the same person is responsible?”

“I have to think it’s a possibility, Sophie. There’s not a lot of vandalism in Lonesome Way. Don’t you think it’s strange that first you were targeted and now me? My ranch?”

Frowning, he stood, his tall frame tense. Narrowing his eyes against the setting sun, he scanned his property, his careful gaze scoping out the barns and sheds and outbuildings, then settling on the ranch house itself, where Starbucks was stationed at the window, his barking nearly hysterical now.

“I need to check everything out. And I need you to come with me.”

“You think whoever did this could still be around.” She was unable to stop a shiver at the thought of someone even now watching them, waiting....

“Probably not. I doubt the coward who did this has the guts to hang around, but I’m not taking any chances.”
Not with you,
he thought.

“Rafe, you need to call Sheriff Hodge.”