he’d taken his time to touch and caress each of them before he made love to her.
A jolt of need went through him, and he knew whatever lie he’d been telling himself about meeting up with Kinley to clear the air was paper-thin. He wanted her. And pretending that there was anything other than that motivating him would be a mistake.
She slid into the booth she’d spotted in the corner. It was darker back here, lit only with an electric fixture mounted on the wall that was made to look like a gas lamp. The bulb flickered like a live flame. They had more privacy than he’d expected.
He started to slide in next to her, but she shook her head and gestured for him to sit across from her. He sat down on the hard wooden bench, hoping it would cool him down, but it didn’t. Instead his legs brushed against hers under the table, and every time he inhaled all he could smell was her perfume. It was some kind of flowery, summery scent that made him more determined that they should spend the summer together.
He was a temporary guy and she was here temporarily; it should be easy enough for both of them. But his gut warned it wouldn’t be. It couldn’t be. First of all, her job was going to bring her into contact with his family—a lot. Second, her dad was his foreman, and Nate didn’t want to do anything to compromise that relationship. Plus—and this was the big one—he was pretty sure that Kinley had already written him off.
So he was going to have to figure out how to convince her that he was more than a wealthy playboy. Was she worth it?
Even as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer was yes. There was something in her big chocolate-brown eyes that made him determined to figure out what he needed to say or do to claim her as his own.
“What are you drinking?” he asked. His voice sounded almost too loud in the quiet intimacy of the booth.
“Sparkling water with a twist of lime,” she said.
“I can’t order that at the bar or they will laugh me out of here,” he said.
“Then I’ll order it. What do you want?” she asked. He noticed that her tone was all business, and he realized that while he was thinking this was the first step to renewed intimacy, she wasn’t.
“I was joking, Kin. I’ll get the drinks,” he said. “I’m ordering something to eat as well.”
“Thank you,” she said as he left the booth to go and place their order.
A good five minutes had passed before he returned to their table. He put the glasses down before retaking his seat.
“I’m sorry about overreacting about the drink. I’m a little on edge tonight,” she said.
“Planning weddings is stressful work?” he asked. He took a swallow of his beer and leaned back, stretching one arm along the back of the wooden bench.
“Sometimes. Ferrin’s such a sweetie, so she’s making my job pretty easy. But I’m working with another client who is a bit more demanding,” Kinley said.
“I never would have pictured you as a wedding planner,” Nate said. When he’d known her as a child, she’d been so rough-and-tumble. The kind of cowgirl who could do anything the boys could on the ranch. His parents had always treated his brothers and him the same way they did all the kids whose families worked on the ranch. That meant they all did chores together and they all got a horse of their own to take care of. It was a tradition that Nate had followed when he took over running the ranch from his dad a few years ago.
The Caruthers fortune derived from the cattle they ran on their property as well as oil and mineral leases they’d had for generations and the newer stud operation that was just fifteen years old. The stud farm had been Kinley’s dad’s idea for diversifying the ranch.
“I guess you don’t know me,” she said. “I like planning weddings.”
“You might be right that I don’t know certain things about you,” he said. “But I’d argue there are parts of you I know very well.”
She flushed. Her skin was so creamy and pale that any time she was aroused, angry or embarrassed it flashed in a pinkish red across her face.
“Don’t, Nate,” she said. “Please do not bring up that weekend in Vegas or our intimacy again. I really would rather your brothers and parents didn’t know about it.”
He leaned forward over the table. “There isn’t anyone here but you and me, Kin, and we both know what happened.”
“We do. And we both remember how it ended...or is that just me?”
“I already apologized for that,” he said, sitting back. Damned if it wasn’t just like a woman to keep reminding him of how he’d screwed up.
“I know. And I accepted your apology. All I meant by my comment was that we’re like oil and water—we don’t mix very well.”
He thought they’d mixed just fine. But arguing now would just get her back up more and not move them any closer to the ending he wanted for them. He knew he had to ease up, and he did. “I’m not the same man I was three years ago.”
She gave him a small smile and nodded. Then she laced her fingers together, and he noticed she wore a small thin ring on her middle finger. “Fair enough. I’m definitely not the same woman. So what’s changed with Nate Caruthers?”
* * *
Kinley knew she was stalling, but honestly she needed more time. She toyed with the lime on the side of her glass, rubbing it around the rim to distract her from the fact that Nate’s big frame dominated the corner booth. His legs were on either side of hers, the rough fabric of the denim abrading the bare skin of her legs. She tried to shift but just ended up rubbing her leg against his.
She glanced over at him to see if he’d noticed. He had.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he took a sip of his beer, and she watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed and then leaned back, stretching his legs out under the table, brushing them against hers again.
“I’m still doing some investment stuff, but my main focus now is running the ranch. Dad wanted to ease off on the everyday running of the Rockin’ C. And as you know, it’s a full-time job. So I stepped up,” Nate said.
The Rockin’ C was one of the largest ranches in Texas. They ran cattle, had oil, operated a stud farm and employed more than one hundred families on the property. They weren’t gentleman farmers; they were more like the Ewings of TV’s Dallas.
“Where are your folks living now?”
“Still on the property. Mom wanted a smaller house, so they built a five-bedroom ranch house out near the small lake.”
“That’s small?” she asked with a laugh.
“For her. Plus she said she wanted enough room to spoil her grandkids once we all settled down,” Nate said.
Once again Kinley felt the white-hot needle of guilt pierce through her. “When is that going to happen?”
“Not any time soon, as far as I’m concerned. Hunter is the only one who seems interested in getting serious. But after ten
