Sweet Nothings by Catherine Anderson
“What?”
“I love you.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
It felt pretty damned relevant to him.
“I may as well parade out naked,” she said crossly. “Do you have another pair of sweats?”
“No.” And he wasn’t about to part with the ones he was wearing. She’d run screaming from the room.
The bathroom door suddenly flew open, and Jake, caught off guard leaning against the planks, almost toppled onto his wife, who stood before him like a vertically challenged boxer, fists knotted at her sides, feet slightly apart, small chin jutting. His first thought was that his underwear had never had it so good. Holy hell. As much as he hated to admit it, he could see why she had been reluctant to come out. Every swell and dip of her body was revealed by the tight knit, some swells far more compelling to the male eye than others.
“Sweet mother of God.”
She bent forward to tug at the apex of the underwear legs, which hung, just as she’d said, midway to her knees. Folds of extra knit were bunched around her slender ankles. The lady didn’t measure up in height, but she sure had dimension.
Planting a hand in the center of his chest, she pushed him back a step and swept past him. “I told you to hand me my T-shirt.”
Jake turned to watch her walk away. The fanny action was mind-boggling. She had the cutest butt he’d ever clapped eyes on, both cheeks jiggling with every step she took. He couldn’t tell bubble knit from dimples. The part of him that was purely male and totally lacking in social graces sprang infuriatingly erect, poking eagerly against his sweats. He shoved himself down. The instant he turned loose, back up he went. Finally, he resorted to tucking himself between his legs, locking his knees together, and walking in awkward baby steps into the bedroom.
Molly, sitting with her back to him on the opposite side of the bed, had plopped all her glorious dimples down on the mattress, which had the spellbinding effect of magnifying her fullness. Above the temptingly plump swells of bottom and hip, her waist dipped in, making his hands ache to grab hold and never turn loose.
“I feel like a hippo stuffed into a knee-high stocking for a giraffe,” she said crossly. Tugging the covers out of her way, she plopped onto her back. “Turn out the lights and stop staring at me. You’re giving me a complex.”
In Jake’s opinion, she already had a complex, and he continued to stand there staring because he couldn’t help himself. Never had east and west looked quite so good.
Molly was his exact opposite in every way, soft where he was hard, convex where he was concave, and temptingly full where he was streamlined. He couldn’t look at her without aching to touch her, and his blood heated when he tried to imagine all that delicious softness pressed against him.
Her breasts were shaped like plump, delectably ripe melons. She’d once told him that they flopped. Not a problem. If her nipples tried to wander off during lovemaking, he would damned sure enjoy the chase and delight in the capture. Just looking at those sensitive peaks of flesh thrusting against tight knit got his juices flowing.
Oh, man. He was in trouble. A promise was a promise. He wouldn’t touch her. But that didn’t mean the temptation would be easy to resist. Her breasts did give way to gravity just a bit. The nipple pointed in his direction was nailing him right between the eyes.
He flipped off the lights. She was right; he could see in the dark. Relief flooded through him when she tugged the blankets up over herself. He picked his way to the bed, sat on the edge of the mattress, and stared at the eerily white outline of his feet. Funny. He’d never noticed how ugly his toes were before.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a faint voice.
Jake sighed. “Praying for fortitude.”
She giggled. “Aw, come on. I’ve never overwhelmed anyone in my life.”
Jake figured that was because she’d never paraded around in front of a man wearing skintight thermal underwear. He wished he could see her nude. He didn’t even know what color her nipples were yet. Pink, maybe? He clenched his teeth. The same color as her lips, probably.
“Lie down,” she urged. “We’ll talk until we feel sleepy.”
Sleep would be a long time in coming. But he followed her advice and lifted the blankets to slip in beside her—flat on his back, arms crossed tightly over his chest so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. He just hoped to hell she didn’t suddenly develop decent night vision. Just below his waist, the sheet and blankets were having an uplifting experience.
She yawned. “It seems like forever since this morning.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Silence. Then she whispered, “What if he comes back with a court order, Jake? What if they discount our marriage as invalid because I’m legally incompetent?”
Hearing the fear in her voice tamped Jake’s libido. He groped to find her hand. After enclosing her slender fingers in his, he whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Molly. I won’t let him take you away.”
“What if you can’t prevent it? He’s got lots of money at his disposal, and he can hire the best lawyers.”
“So can I,” Jake assured her.
“No way are you selling any horses.”
He squeezed her hand. “Rafe and Ryan offered to back me financially. Normally, I don’t like to borrow money, but in this situation, I’ll do it without batting an eye. The Kendricks are a powerful, very wealthy family with connections all over Oregon. Rafe told me this evening that if Rodney tries to cause any trouble, he’ll hook me up with his attorney. The guy kicks ass and takes names.”
He felt her body tense. “I hate for you to borrow money on my behalf.”
Jake would have happily gone into debt for the rest of his life to keep her out of Rodney’s clutches. He’d seen the coldness in the man’s eyes. He never wanted her near the bastard again.
“Rafe and Ryan are relatives by marriage. I don’t mind asking them for help. It’s different when you tap family.”
She sighed wearily. “Well,” she said softly, “if it’s any consolation, I’ll be able to settle the debt one day. If the courts ever grant me control over my inheritance again, that is.”
It was Jake’s turn to grow tense. “Just how much was your dad worth exactly? You never really said.”
“A lot. Not all of it is liquid, of course. Several million are tied up in the corporation. He left me his share of the firm. The rest of the estate was divided up equally between Claudia and me. I can’t remember exact figures, but in stocks, bonds, and cash in the bank, I think I got around four, plus what my share of the firm is worth.”
“Four what?”
“Million. Daddy started investing as soon as he got out of college. He was good at what he did.”
“Dear God, I’ve married into money.”
She giggled again. “Yes, well—it’s nice that you didn’t realize in advance. Being married for my future net worth was the pits.” She fell quiet for a moment. Then, in a tremulous voice, she said, “It doesn’t mean anything, you know. Money doesn’t make you happy. If anything, it’s only made my life difficult.”
“Maybe it can’t make you happy, but it sure as hell helps.”
She laughed again. Then her fingers clutched his. “Does it bother you? My having money, I mean.”
Jake tightened his hand over hers. “Money or the lack of it doesn’t define us as individuals. I love you for who you are, not what you have.”
She sighed. “And who do you think I am, Jake?”
A lump came into his throat. “A very special lady.”
“I’m afraid you don’t really know me. I barely know myself, so how can you?” He heard a hollow plunk and knew she’d swallowed to steady her voice. “Now I feel like I never will.”
“Know yourself, you mean?” Her silence was all the answer he needed. “Molly, being married to me won’t prevent you from achieving your own goals and chasing your own dreams.”
“Yes. Yes, it will. Today, I became a rancher’s wif
He drew a blank at the question. “I’m not following.”
“Exactly. I’ll bet it never once occurred to you that you became a stockbroker’s husband today.” He felt her tension. It radiated from her like electronic waves. “That’s who I am, Jake. Who I was raised to be, anyway. Being married to Rodney derailed my career. We were partners, he said, but in truth, I was little more than his girl Friday. He was the one with the impressive computer science degree. I dropped out of college and just took the state tests to get my license, which made me somehow less in his eyes, even though I’d teethed on finance and knew more about it than he did. I did all the legwork, he got all the recognition.
“After the divorce, I hoped to eventually return to the firm. I wanted to sit behind my dad’s desk. You know? I wanted to take over my half of the business and carry on the Sterling tradition.” A tremor ran through her. He felt the quiver in her hand. “I also wanted to investigate my father’s death. Rodney did it. I’m almost sure of that. I wanted to prove it and make sure he paid.”
“And you feel you can’t do any of that now?”
“I’m married to a Central Oregon rancher. Been there, done that. I’ll end up being an extension of you, just like it was with Rodney.”
“Is that why you feel so lost sometimes?” he asked huskily.
“Yes.” He could still feel her trembling. “It’s not as bad now as it was, but yes.”
“Ah, Molly. You just need time to rediscover yourself, that’s all.”
She went rigid. “How can I do that now? The cycle will just start all over again.”
He tucked in his chin, trying to see her face. She pressed her thumb hard against his palm, and by that, he took measure of her agitation. “That’s why I never wanted to be married again. They say we live in an enlightened age, but women still get absorbed into their husbands’ lives, not the other way around. I’m not blaming you. I understand it’s a societal condition, one that you didn’t invent or perpetrate. You’re the man. You don’t have to change. I’m the woman, therefore I do.”
“Do you dislike the idea of being a rancher’s wife?”
She lay quietly beside him for a long while, saying nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice rang hollow. “I’ve become a rancher’s wife. There’s not much I can do to change it.”
Jake smiled into the shadows. “I’ve become your husband as much as you’ve become my wife.”
“No, you haven’t. I’ll bet it never once occurred to you all day that by marrying me, you’d changed from being a rancher into something else.”
That was true. “It was a fast-paced day. I didn’t have a lot of time to contemplate all the changes that are bound to occur in my life now.”
“What changes?” she asked bitterly.
He chuckled.
“It isn’t funny,” she said tightly. “I told you why I didn’t want to get married again, and you couldn’t understand. I wanted to be me for a while. I needed to find out who I am again and just be me for a while.”
The note of longing in her voice made Jake hurt for her.
“I gave up my freedom twelve hours ago, end of subject. I didn’t have a choice, and I knew what I was doing when I did it. Now I just have to—” He heard her swallow again. “I just have to live with it, is all.”
“No, you don’t, Molly. That isn’t what marriage is all about. I told you it won’t be a prison, and I meant it. You want to be a stockbroker? Fine. Be the best damned stockbroker there is. Invest for me. Make me a rich man. I won’t bitch.”
“The firm is in Portland. If the court eventually rules in my favor, how can I work there and live here?” Her voice went thin. “Ever since I got out of the clinic, I’ve lived for the day when I could walk back into Sterling and Wells. Now I never will. I’ll be the chief cook and bottle washer on the Lazy J, separating milk and making butter that will make me big as a barn if I eat it.”
Jake disentangled his hand from hers, hooked an arm over her waist, and hauled her across the mattress into his arms. She gave a startled squeak, her body snapping taut. He pressed his face against her hair, hugging her fiercely.
“You listen up,” he said huskily. When she started to speak, he gave her a squeeze to silence her. “You will walk back into Sterling and Wells again, and the first time you sit down behind your dad’s desk, I’m going to be there to celebrate the moment with you. It’s true that you’ve married a rancher, but that doesn’t mean you have to wash my pots and pans. If you’re working and I’m working, we can hire someone to do the domestic crap.”
“You’d consider doing that?”
“I’ll do better than just consider. As for living here, yeah, we’ll have to at least part of the time. But what’s to say we can’t live in Portland part of the time as well? We’re in a telecommunication age, Molly. When you’re here, you can work out of a home office on a computer hooked up with the firm network. There are fax machines and telephones. And in case of an emergency, Portland isn’t that far to drive. We can hop in a car and be there in three-and-a-half hours.”
She sniffed. “You make it sound so simple, but it won’t be. What’ll you do with yourself if we stay for any period of time in Portland?”
He caught a silky curl between his teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “I’ll be a stockbroker’s husband. What else? If you can run a milk separator, I can run a calculator and become proficient on a computer.”
He felt her mouth curve in a smile against his shoulder. “You’d really do that?”
“Damn straight.” He ran a hand up her back, loving the way she felt in his arms. Now that he’d finally found her, he would move heaven and earth to make her happy. “During the winter, the snow gets so deep that the work here slacks off. Most cattlemen ship their cows down to California for winter grazing. I’ll be able to break away and leave Hank in charge during that time, no sweat. Who knows? I may get a kick out of changing my occupation six months a year. It’ll give us variety in our lives.”
He felt her smile again. She sighed and slipped her arms around his neck. It felt wonderful to have her hug him back. “Jake Coulter in a suit. That I have to see.”
“I look damned good in a suit, I’ll have you know.”
“When have you worn one?”
He grinned into the darkness. “I wore one—let me see. I went to a funeral last year. I wore one then. I smelled like mothballs, but I stayed downwind of everybody.”
She rewarded him with a giggle. “You can’t go to Sterling and Wells smelling like mothballs. We’ll have to send the suit out for cleaning.”
Jake gathered her closer, glad to hear that wondering, almost hopeful note in her voice. She still had a lot of reservations, but she was starting to believe it might be possible for them to make this work.
Jake had news for her. He’d make it work or die trying.
Chapter Twenty-one
The following day, Jake refused to let Molly out of his sight for fear Rodney might show up. She went with him while he fed the horses. She trudged beside him in oversized rubber boots while he changed sprinkler lines. That evening he insisted she accompany him in the pickup while he hayed the livestock.
“I never realized how hard you work all day,” she commented when the last of the cattle had been fed.
He parked his truck near the house. After pocketing the keys, he looked over at her, his eyes as blue as sapphires as he traced her features. “Come for a walk with me.”
“What about dinner?” She glanced at her watch. “It’s after five, and I haven’t started it yet.”
“We’re newlyweds. Screw dinner. We’ll heat up leftovers. I’d like to spend a few quiet minutes with my bride. In lieu of a honeymoon, it’s not much, but it’s all I can offer for now, a walk by the creek.”
It was a beautiful evening. Molly relented with a grin. “All right, but only if you’ll help me fix something to eat. I’m tired from chasing after you all day.”
“
He held her hand as they walked along the stream. Their footsteps were slow, their bodies moving in lazy unison as they listened to the sounds that drifted on the air. Now early May, the days were growing longer, but even so, dusk was beginning to descend, forming pools of grayish gloom beneath the trees that fronted the woodlands. They startled a lone buck with beautiful antlers still in velvet.
Jake led her to sit on a grassy knoll by the stream. The valley narrowed there to only about a hundred yards wide, the north fence line across the creek running parallel with the encroaching forest. To the east, red Herefords dotted the landscape. Directly across the creek, Molly saw a rabbit foraging for its supper, and at the edge of the woods, she glimpsed a doe and fawn.
“Uh-oh,” she whispered. “I think we’re preventing that mama and her baby from having their evening snack.”
Jake followed her gaze. “They’ll mosey along to find a more private spot.”
Molly watched the deer bound away. “They’re so lovely and graceful.”
“They’re quite something, all right.” After a moment, he whispered, “Listen.”
Molly went still. All around them, she heard a beautiful woodland symphony—the wind whispering in the trees, the call of a hawk in the distance, the chattering of the squirrels preparing for night.
“Isn’t that fantastic?” he asked.
Molly agreed wholeheartedly. It was especially beautiful to be sharing it with him. Gazing at his dark profile, she felt her heart swell with emotions she didn’t want to name or acknowledge, but there was no avoiding it. She’d done the unthinkable and let herself fall in love with him. Oh, God. The realization frightened her. He was such a strong-willed man—and so very handsome. Loving him could be dangerous.
He caught her studying him. His brilliant blue eyes went cloudy with tenderness, and he reached over to touch a fingertip to her nose. “Don’t be afraid, Molly mine. I’m the best long-term investment you’ll ever make.”
She hugged her knees. “How can you know what I’m feeling?”
“I’m good at reading feelings. That’s why I’m so good with horses.” He gave her a slow smile. “When people love each other, they share all their feelings anyway. What’s so wrong with my knowing how you feel without you telling me? On the bright side, it’ll make me a better husband. I’ll understand you and know straight off when I’ve stepped on your toes.”