Maid in Montana Page 10

  “How else do you explain cutting off the possibility of any relationship by forcing me to make a decision before I even know whether or not there should be a decision?”

  “That’s my point, Sophie. There shouldn’t be a decision. I’m saving you the heartbreak of falling in love only to be disappointed.”

  She pulled a paper towel from the roll and cleaned up a spill by the sink. “How vain you are. You’re so absolutely positive I’ll fall in love that you won’t even give me the options.”

  “Trust me. You don’t want the options.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Because you hurt your ex-wife or because she hurt you?”

  Taking a sip of coffee, he studied her over the rim of his mug. Finally he said, “When you love somebody enough that’s the same thing.”

  She stared at him in silence. Technically he’d just told her that he believed he could love her enough. This man who knew his mind, knew himself, knew what he wanted, was afraid of a relationship with her, not because he didn’t think it would result in real love, but because he knew it would.

  She turned to the counter again, wiped at the spot of the spill that she’d already cleaned. Now, she understood why he’d forced her into the position of making her choice the night before. He’d already made his. He might not be in love with her, but if they went any further, shared any more kisses, touched enough, he’d put himself in a danger zone. Unless she could say she accepted the fact that she’d have no more children, he knew he’d be hurt.

  And she wasn’t ready to make that choice.

  So he was right. They couldn’t take this any further.

  He laughed emotionlessly, took another sip of his coffee and said, “Why don’t we just say the whiskey made me kiss you last night and leave it at that?”

  What a wonderful way out for two people in a situation so intense she could barely breathe. “Okay.”

  “And let’s not be upset about this.”

  She blushed as guilt rattled through her. How could she be so cold to a man who deserved her warmth? Why couldn’t she simply say she accepted that she’d never have another child? She had one. She’d had the experience of being pregnant, bearing him and nestling a newborn against her breast. Why couldn’t she say one child was enough?

  Because she’d had that child alone. Because that pregnancy hadn’t been happy. It had been scary. Lonely. She’d made every discovery, experienced every “first” by herself. Not with the man she loved.

  And that was the real bottom line. She didn’t merely want another child. She wanted the experience of a pregnancy with a man who loved her. She wanted the whole package. She wanted him to buy her pickles and ice cream. She wanted to know what it felt like to have a husband holding her hand in labor. Telling her she was beautiful. Thanking her when it was over and he was holding a wailing newborn in his arms. His son. His progeny.

  Still turned away from Jeb, she squeezed her eyes shut. Now she understood. As proud as Jeb was, he’d never feel right about depriving her of those things. He knew the depth of the loss she envisioned because it was his loss, too. He longed to thank somebody for giving him a child. He longed to hold a hand during labor. He might even yearn to be the one to buy pickles and ice cream, to satisfy cravings, to be a part of all those firsts.

  Dear God. No wonder there was no argument for him. He knew what he was asking her to forfeit because he’d done it. And not out of choice. She couldn’t push him or argue with him any more than she already had. That would only make him feel worse.

  She feigned a smile and faced him. “All right. No fussing. No sulking.”

  He studied her a few seconds, undoubtedly recognizing her smile was forced, but at least her thoughts were clear. She agreed. They couldn’t do this.

  “So we’re good? We both know anything romantic between us would be a mistake.”

  “Yes.” All the emotion that had been riding through her suddenly turned into a blank space, a feeling of emptiness so intense it stole her breath.

  He picked up his travel mug and walked out of the kitchen, obviously on his way to his bedroom to dress for the day.

  Sophie watched the door swing closed behind him.

  She liked him.

  He liked her.

  And that emptiness she’d just felt wasn’t her own. It was his. It had hurt him to deprive his ex-wife. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive her. But in protecting everybody else, he hurt himself.

  Ironically that was part of why her attraction to him continually grew. He deserved love. Real love. Selfless, abiding, I’ll-fight-for-you-forever love.

  But she wasn’t the woman to give it to him.

  That afternoon Brady wouldn’t take a nap. He fussed so much Sophie pulled him from the crib. “Is something wrong with you today, little buddy?”

  He sniffed then rubbed his nose against her chest before starting to cry again.

  Walking him to the kitchen, she hugged him tightly. “What’s the matter?”

  He only cried all the more.

  “Are you sick?” She glanced down, as if she expected him to reply, and of course, he didn’t. Remembering he’d gone through something similar when he’d gotten his first few teeth, she sat on a kitchen chair and rubbed her finger along his gums. On the bottom row she felt a bump. Remorse filled her. She hadn’t immediately recognized his problem because she’d been preoccupied with Jeb’s. Her guilt grew, as she realized yet another reason not to get involved in her boss’s life. She had a baby who needed her.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure this out, but now that we’re on the right page we’ll be fine.”

  The door swung open and Jeb walked into the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

  The air always left the room whenever Jeb entered and Sophie struggled for breath. Without even trying, he crackled with life and energy that translated into raw male sexuality. She couldn’t imagine a woman loving him, knowing what it felt like to touch him and taste him, knowing what it felt like to be the object of his desire, and still leaving him. Though she understood his ex-wife’s wish to have a child, she had a new set of doubts about the woman who had left Jeb. How could a woman love a man and desert him in his hour of need?

  As she thought the last, Brady squirmed, as if Mother Nature was reminding her that her top priority wasn’t her boss, but her son. She had to stop thinking about Jeb.

  “He’s getting a tooth.”

  “Poor little guy.” He ran his fingers through Brady’s downy hair sympathetically. “Do you have medicine or something to help him?”

  She looked up, caught his gaze and swallowed hard at the emotion she saw in his eyes. In one day of interacting with her son, he already had strong feelings for her little boy. And she suddenly realized something that she should have seen before this. He didn’t want her to keep Brady out from underfoot because he didn’t want to be around her son. He’d wanted her to keep him away so he didn’t grow attached to her child. He loved kids and didn’t want to get attached to Brady only to have Sophie take him away when a better job came along, or she grew tired of ranch life…or she found love with someone else.

  She looked away. There were so many ways she could hurt him. Was it any wonder he had been wary of her?

  “I have gel for his gums. It numbs them enough that he can sleep. He’s usually fine in a day or two.”

  “Then you go take care of him. I’ll make my own supper.”

  “No. I’m—”

  “No arguing. I realized today that you haven’t taken a day off since you got here. Your boy needs tending. I can get my own supper.”

  “I know but—”

  “No buts!” He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the door. “I’m fine.”

  The touch of his fingers on her shoulders made her close her eyes. Even a simple gesture shot sparks of fire through her.

  She ignored them. Not because she didn’t like Jeb, but because she did. Too
much. And if she wasn’t careful she’d sacrifice her dreams for a man she barely knew.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BRADY finally fell into a deep sleep around eight o’clock that night. Knowing he’d be good for several hours but not wanting to leave him, Sophie had settled on the sofa, pillow on her lap, ready to unwind by watching some television, when there was a knock at her door.

  Confused, she sat up and set the pillow beside her. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Jeb.”

  She rolled her eyes, laughing at herself. Of course it was Jeb. Who else did she think it would be?

  Shaking her head at her own stupidity, but forgiving herself since the past few hours with Brady had been difficult, she rose from the sofa and opened her door.

  “Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “It’s been a hellish few hours.”

  He produced two brown bottles of beer from behind his back. “I sort of figured, so I brought you a beer.”

  Surprised, she smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  “I also need to talk with you about a few things.”

  “Oh?” The tone in his voice sent shivers of fear through her. He was a very observant man, and busy as she had been with Brady, she hadn’t been careful about her reactions to him that day. What if he’d figured out the conclusions she’d been drawing by the expressions on her face? What if it embarrassed him to realize she had been thinking about him, about his life, about what he’d gone through?

  She opened the door a little wider. “Come in.”

  He stepped into the room, handed her one of the bottles and took a seat on the chair, which seemed to disappear around him.

  Laughing, she sat on the sofa. “Chair’s a little small.”

  He frowned down at it. “Not very comfortable, either.”

  Knowing they could chitchat all night when she’d rather get this over with, she said, “What did you need to talk about?”

  “I got two phone calls this evening.”

  “One from Slim I’m hoping.”

  He took a swig of beer. “Yep. If his older sister can’t handle caring for their mom, he’s out for the summer.”

  He said it in such a somber way that Sophie’s spirits lifted. Maybe his guarded mood wasn’t the result of her making him feel bad about himself, but worry over running the ranch and his business without Slim.

  “That’s awful.”

  “We can manage. Especially since the other call was from the clients. They’ve canceled their visit.”

  “Oh, no! Do you have any good news?”

  He chuckled, leaning back in the chair, looking casual and sexy and totally unconcerned, almost as if he functioned best when others needed him to be strong.

  “It gives us more time to get ready for them.”

  “So, they’re still coming?”

  “Yep.”

  “How long do we have?”

  Jeb shrugged. “Mrs. Baker said they just need a week or two. Mr. Baker’s current picture ran over and he can’t get away from the set.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “He’s a movie star?”

  “Director.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t be disappointed. Directors are important, too.”

  “I know. I was just kind of hoping to meet somebody cool.”

  “Oh, trust me. He’s cool. He wears sunglasses in the house.”

  She laughed and took her first swig of beer. “I can’t drink this whole thing.”

  “You’re a lightweight?”

  His horrified expression caused a giggle to bubble from her. “No. I can hold my own. I simply can’t get tipsy tonight. I’ll probably have to get up with Brady.”

  “He won’t sleep through the night?”

  “Not when he’s teething.”

  “I’d take part of the watch for you, but that means I’d have to sleep on that.” He pointed at the square sofa. “I don’t think that’s a good idea for my back.”

  She glanced down at her beer. Just as she’d suspected, he was such a natural with kids that he didn’t think before he volunteered. If Brady was around, he’d be involved. If she didn’t keep to the rules he’d set, he’d be the one to be hurt.

  “I can handle it, but thanks for offering.”

  “Why are you always so surprised when somebody does something nice for you?”

  “I’m not. I expected you to offer to help. What surprises me is that you don’t realize how nice you are.”

  He burst out laughing. “You need to have a conversation with my last housekeeper. She’d totally disagree with you.”

  She took a drink of her beer. “Right. I’m guessing she’s the reason you don’t realize you’re nice.”

  “Stop saying I’m nice. I’m not.”

  She winced. “That’s right. I forgot men don’t like to be thought of as nice.”

  He scowled. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “Sort of. But you can’t deny that you’re worried about Brady, or that you pay well—or even that you treat your ranch foreman like a brother.”

  “I threatened to fire Slim for teasing me the day you asked if you could take a walk around the ranch.”

  “Yet he still orchestrated the two of us going out on a ride.” She smiled. “And when his mom got sick you lent him your private plane. Without a second thought.”

  His scowl deepened. “I’m not nice.”

  “Again, you’re not going to get me to believe that.” She motioned around the room. She might not be the woman to love him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make her mark on his life. And her best way would be to get him over the hurdle of thinking he didn’t deserve to be loved. He did.

  “This place is a hundred times better than what I could afford on my own,” she said, ticking off the things he’d already done for her. “You’re keeping me on, when you could have stuck to our three-week deal, because you know how much this job means to me. If I stay long enough, you’d eventually treat Brady like a son.”

  She stopped, suddenly realizing what she’d said.

  Silence cloaked the room in oppression.

  He took a long drink that drained his beer bottle, and then very quietly said, “We both know that’s not a good idea.” He rose. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Filled with remorse for not thinking through her stupid, offhand remark, she rose, too. “Okay.”

  He headed for the door, but suddenly faced her. “And I’m not nice.” With slow, deliberate steps, he closed the distance between them. “Given half a chance, I’d ravish you. I’d kiss you until you couldn’t breathe for wanting me and then I’d take my time making love to you. I wouldn’t think about tomorrow, consequences be damned.” He slid his palm to her cheek, his thumb caressing it softly, seductively. “You’d be in my bed, simply because I want you and some days I can’t control that.”

  She looked away, and he lifted her chin until she caught his gaze. “Think about that the next time you’re tempted to believe I’m nice.”

  With that he kissed her. Dumbfounded by the raw need in his voice and the truth in his words, she hadn’t steeled herself for the touch of his mouth against hers. When their lips met, she simply melted, fell into the sinful sensations, opened to him, accepted the rub of his tongue as it swept into her mouth.

  Heat poured through her, causing her stomach to clench and her breasts to expand with life and need. Of its own volition, her body pressed against his, finding the hard evidence of his desire. Her hands skimmed the strong arms holding her, until they reached his broad shoulders, his neck, and slid into his thick, silky hair.

  He pulled away, brushing his lips from her mouth to her chin, down her neck to the sensitive crevice there. Running them along her collarbone, he quietly said, “I won’t tie you to me when I can’t give you what you need. But unless you can tell me that it’s okay for us to make love—even if it’s only once—you’re going to have to be strong enough for both of us.”

  The strength he spoke of eluded her, but
he stepped away. “Don’t settle for less than what you want. Not even for me.”

  The next morning the air sizzled when Jeb walked into the kitchen. The kiss the night before told her exactly how much he wanted her, and reminded her of exactly how much she wanted him. He hadn’t spoken of love. Hadn’t made excuses or proposed alternatives for not being able to have children. He’d warned her away from him, even as he told her he didn’t intend to resist her.

  When their eyes met, the sizzle that had entered the room with him increased exponentially. Her pulse scrambled. Her chest tightened. Her blood burst into flame.

  Just from a look.

  What would happen if they ever did make love?

  “Good morning.”

  She cleared her throat. “Good morning.”

  “How’s Brady?”

  “He was awake most of the night, so now he’s sleeping like a lamb. He probably won’t be up before noon.”

  A hush fell over the room, and she realized what she’d said. Her baby was tended. Jeb had given the hands a much-needed day off due to the client’s cancellation. Slim was in Texas. They were alone in the big quiet house. And they burned for each other.

  She quickly turned to the sink, shoved her hands in the dishwater and picked up a glass.

  Without a word, he stepped behind her, pushed the hair from her neck and brushed a kiss across her nape. She squeezed her eyes shut, reveling in the sensation, knowing that one of these days she would succumb, not sure at this moment if he was warning her—or seducing her—and terrified that she didn’t have the will to resist.

  “Lucy, I’m home!”

  Slim’s voice rang through the downstairs and Sophie started, but Jeb slowly pulled away. His lips rose from her nape, leaving a cool sensation in their wake. His hands slid from her waist. He stepped back, away from her, just as Slim pushed open the swinging door.

  Dressed in jeans and a lightweight plaid shirt, he walked toward the table and picked up the conversation as if he hadn’t been away. “I hear you have news.”

  Jeb walked to the coffeemaker. “Clients canceled,” he said simply, his voice gruff with sexual need that Sophie prayed Slim wouldn’t notice.