07 It Had to Be You Read online

  “I wouldn’t fit in.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know.” She turned away. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “Come with me tonight.”

  “I don’t date.”

  “Then we’ll go out as friends, with the others.”

  Her hands stilled. With a can of tomato sauce in each palm, she looked at him. “Not a date?”

  “Just fun. A bunch of us. No pressure, no anything. You’ll eat, talk, smile…hell, you might even forget yourself and laugh.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think about it.”

  “Maybe. You have to go now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t think when you’re in here.”

  He grinned. “You know, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Whistling, he strolled out of the kitchen, and spent the rest of the afternoon chopping wood, making sure to stay in view of Amy’s kitchen window as he did.

  Amy shocked herself that night by going with Tucker into town. They sat in the Last Stop Bar and Grill with a bunch of his friends, laughing and talking and—she had to admit—having a decent time. She’d worn the least faded of her three pairs of jeans, and a new T-shirt she’d gotten with her last paycheck. The music rocked, the food was good, and she actually found herself smiling for no reason at all.

  “Now that’s what I’ve been waiting for.” Tucker drew her to her feet and toward the dance floor. “Don’t forget you’re having a good time.”

  “Oh no.” She dug in her heels. “I’m not having that good a time—Tucker!”

  He let go of her hand and started dancing, if you could call arms flailing and legs dancing—good Lord, what was he doing with his legs? He was easily the worst dancer out there, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. Was he kidding?

  “Come on.” He gestured she should do the same.

  He wasn’t kidding.

  Eddie was also out on the floor with two girls. The rest of the group they’d been sitting with was there, too, all dancing together, none quite as dorkily as Tucker, but no one seemed to care what they looked like, only that the music was good.

  “If you think I look silly,” Tucker said over the music, “then you should see how you look just standing there with a scowl on your face.”

  “I’m not scowling.” But she was, so she smoothed that out first. Then with Tucker still wobbling and hopping and bobbing all around her as he smiled into her face, looking so cute and happy, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She swayed. “See? Dancing.”

  He laughed. “Is that it? That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Shut up.” But she moved a little bit more, using her arms this time. She knew how to dance; she’d spent hours doing so late at night after her father passed out cold on the couch. She’d sneak into his closet and put on the one thing of her mother’s he’d kept, a long, flowery sundress. She’d twirl around in it to the music from her little AM/FM radio, pretending she was a fairytale princess locked away in her castle waiting for her prince. It’d been the only time she’d ever been happy.

  So when she closed her eyes now and let herself go, let herself dance—much better than Tucker, she might add—the same emotion came over her.

  Happiness.

  Callie stood in front of the sink in her bathroom wearing a sea green lace camisole and matching shorts, neither of which even attempted to hide much of her body. Another online impulse buy. Of course the model had been long, leggy and lean as a whistle, but Callie had to admit, having curves suited the set as well.

  She knew wearing pretty things beneath her work clothes was a pathetic attempt at feeling feminine in a decidedly unfeminine world, but figured she deserved one little concession to being a woman.

  When the knock came at her door, her heart jerked.

  “Callie?”

  God, just his voice, a little thick and husky, wound her up. Not sure how she felt about that, she reached for her robe, slipping into it before opening the door.

  Jake filled her vision, his good arm holding up the doorjamb. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Suddenly a little unsure, she crossed her arms. “You had a busy day.”

  “I wanted to introduce you to the real estate agent but you vanished.”

  “I was busy, too.” She’d avoided them on purpose. Childish, definitely, but she’d needed the distance. “How did it go?”

  “People are pretty spooked over the gossip. They’re saying we’ve either got a mischievous ghost, or someone is after giving the ranch a bad name.”

  “None of the incidents are that bad…”

  “Missing money.” He ticked off the others on his fingers. “Injury to a horse, injury to horse’s owner, more missing money.” He shook his head. “It’s just enough to scare people.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  “Are you?”

  She leaned against the opposite side of the door. “I’m sorry it’s giving you trouble, yes. I’m not sorry you haven’t sold yet.”

  A smile touched his lips. “I can always count on you for honesty.”

  “Always. You got your message from Joe.”

  “He said you sounded pretty.” His smile widened. “I told him you were.”

  “And he said you’d promised to come and train his next group of recruits.” She didn’t let any emotion tinge her voice, even though she felt plenty. “I told him to expect an ugly puppy along with you.”

  His smile faded. “Callie—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Honest to God she didn’t because nothing would change. “Can you live with that?”

  He ran his gaze over her face for a long moment. “I can. For now.”

  She moved back. His body brushed hers as he came inside and shut the door, holding her to his side as he lightly drew his knuckles along her cheek. “I thought about you all day. I’m going off the assumption you gave me at least a passing thought.”

  A laugh almost bubbled out of her. A passing thought? Try a hundred. “Yeah. You could assume that.”

  His other hand skimmed up and down her back over the smooth robe. That warmth he always caused within began deep inside, and she lifted her hand to his chest.

  “Another assumption I had was that we’d share your bed tonight.” His voice was nothing but a rough whisper. His eyes were lit with hunger, and more, so much more that it took her breath away.

  She ran her hand back and forth over his chest. Beneath his shirt he was warm, hard with strength. “I think that’s a good assumption.”

  “What’s beneath the robe?” he asked hoarsely, then unbelted it himself, sweeping it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He took her in with one sweep of his eyes, and groaned. “That’s incredible. Now take it off.” That said, he took care of it himself.

  She had every light on in the place, and for a minute felt bare and vulnerable sandwiched between the closed door and his fully dressed form. “The bed?”

  He kissed her, then lifted his head. “Too far.” He kissed her again and then again, until she forgot about feeling vulnerable and open. When he scraped his teeth over a nipple, then soothed it with his tongue, she writhed against him while his busy, clever, and extremely talented hands skimmed up the backs of her thighs, exploring between. “Jake.” She let out a shaky laugh. “My legs won’t hold me.”

  He eyed her kitchen table, which was only a few feet to the left, then slid his good arm around her waist, lifting her against him as he headed toward it.

  “No,” she gasped, laughing. “It won’t hold.”

  So he set her down on the counter instead. Stepping back, he began to strip out of his clothes, and she blessed the light she’d just cursed because he had such a glorious body. He pulled out a condom, held her gaze while he put it on. Settling his big palms on her thighs, he pushed them apart. She’d barely taken a breath before one powerful thrust brought him home. And he was home right here in her arms, just as she was in his, which was bot