Teaching the Cowboy (29 page)

“Ha-ha.” Still, she followed John down into the sunken room. “What’s up?” she asked when he sank onto the sofa and patted the adjacent cushion. She settled into it, being careful not to touch him.

“I wanted to run something by you.”

“What?”

He brushed his hair behind his ears and pulled a manila folder out of his jacket. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, open it.”

She opened the flap to the first page and read the printed itinerary. December twenty-second through December twenty-ninth, air travel from Cheyenne to Denver to Houston to Raleigh. Rental cars in Raleigh. Accommodations on Bald Head Island. She read the names listed on the receipt.
Lundstrom—Johan, Jr., Peter, Felicity and Johanna. Silver—Veronica. Darrow—Sidney and Katherine
.

She looked at him. “What is this?”

He grinned. “I figured it was time for the kids to see the ocean, and it’s a big enough rental you could invite your parents, if you want.”

She swallowed hard. “My parents?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s an eight-bedroom house. They usually use it for wedding parties and stuff like that, but this time of year it’s vacant.” He shrugged. “The travel agent asked me where I wanted her to look and I really didn’t know, so I told her to find the best, and that’s what she found. I’m sorry if it’s—”

She dropped the folder onto the cushion and pulled him into a hug. “It’s wonderful, John, thank you.”

“Really?” He wrapped his arms around her back, tentatively it felt, and nestled his nose into the crook of her neck. “With the geography, I didn’t know.”

She sat back and tapped the top of the folder. “It’s fine. I’ve only been on Bald Head a couple of times, and never during the winter. The place should be deserted, but that’s okay. It’ll be cozy with just the locals.”

He breathed out a long exhale and raked his hair back once more. “I was worried you’d be offended.”

“Why would I be offended?”

“I mean, it’s pretty presumptuous. Vacationing together? I didn’t want you to think that I was overstepping any lines.”

“I don’t think anything other than that it’s sweet, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Dad is going to meet us there. I invited Anna, but she decided to take the week off to visit her sister in Montana.”

“What about Landon?”

He shifted in his seat. “I haven’t talked to him.”

“Oh.”

“So I just wanted to run that by you. We’ll figure out who’ll sleep where later.”

“Okay.” She handed him the folder and stood.

“Ronnie?”

“Hmm?”

He scratched his head and grimaced. “Do you need money?”

“What?”
Where’d that come from?

“I didn’t think to ask before. I mean, do you need anything for incidentals, diapers, clothes or whatever? Since you’re not working, I didn’t…”

Her cheeks burned, and she turned away. “Oh.” She wasn’t quite broke, but she’d been living pretty lean the past few weeks. She hadn’t really left the ranch other than a couple of isolated trips to Target. Joey was outgrowing her six-month stuff, so yeah, she needed clothes, but Ronnie didn’t feel right asking. How did married couples manage that money issue when one party didn’t work?

She must have been quiet for too long, because he said, “I’ll set up an account for you to draw on. Just tell me if it’s enough.”

Her inclination was to tell him not to bother, but she couldn’t let pride get in the way of such a thing. They were talking about Joey’s comfort. He was the one who’d dragged her all the way back there. She’d had a job lined up. Income. She shouldn’t feel defeated by having to accept his support since he was the reason she needed it.

“Okay,” she finally managed, and she felt like shit.

Chapter Twenty-Five

T
hanksgiving came and went, and the event was quiet, subdued even, with just John, Anna, Peter, Liss, Sid, Eddie, Kitty, Ronnie, and Joey in attendance. It didn’t feel right to John that Landon wasn’t there, but he still hadn’t been able to extend that olive branch. Wasn’t ready.

He’d been so busy getting the ranch ready for true winter and training Eddie up on the operating policies and procedures he should heed while the family was away, he’d been skipping his midnight treks over to the guesthouse. He missed them. One day, early December, even as tired as he was, he jammed his feet into his boots, put on his duster, and drove down the path.

When he let himself in, he found the house dark as usual with not even the hallway nightlight turned on. He left his coat on the sofa, heeled off his boots, and padded down the hall to the master bedroom.

Ronnie was asleep, lips parted slightly, and lying pretty much on the edge of the king sized bed, having not even bothered to remove the decorative pillows from the other side. John thought that was a little sad. A woman like that, sleeping alone.

He brushed off the surplus pillows and slipped into the empty side.

She rolled over and opened her eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

She shut her eyes and yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. “She’s been sleeping through the night the past couple of weeks.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” He peeled the covers back, preparing to stand.

“Stay.” She rolled back over and faced the window. “You’re blocking the draft from the hall.”

That made him chuckle, and he lay back down.

“You’ve been scarce.”

“Busy.”

“Oh.”

He reached over and pulled her hair back from her neck. It was loose for once, and curly like it had been when he went to fetch her from North Carolina. A bit frizzy, even, but it suited her. “Veronica?”

“Hmm?”

“I never said it before, but I wanted to thank you for bringing Joey.” He pushed up to his elbow so he could read her face, should she show any expression.

She opened her eyes. “What choice did I have?”

“You could have fought me.”

“Some fights aren’t worth it.”

“Oh.”

“And it’s worked out well in some ways.”

“Such as?”

She rolled back over again, and he was so close this time her breasts, firm and full from milk, brushed against him. He didn’t creep back. Neither did she. She sucked in some air. “For one thing, Peter’s really stepping up. Trying to fill his big brother’s shoes, I guess. He really dotes on Liss and Joey.”

“Yeah, he does. I didn’t know he had it in him.”

“Sometimes it happens. Remove the competition and suddenly a kid steps up to the plate and hits a home run. I think it’s good she’s with her siblings. They don’t treat her like a half.”

He twined his fingers around some hair that’d fallen over her cheek. When she didn’t flinch, he leaned in and put his lips where her hair had been. “And what about you? Is it working out for you at all?”

“I miss home. I miss being near things. I miss my family.”

I’m your home. Make
me
your family.
He didn’t say it out loud, but instead dragged his lips down to her lips and hovered over them, waiting.

She didn’t keep him idling long, and bridged the distance between the two of them, lacing her fingers through his overgrown hair and bringing him down to complete the connection.

Her lips were exactly as soft as he remembered, not that they’d been easy to forget. The way she swept her tongue over his teeth and against his cheek, slowly, languorously, told him she wasn’t interested in a quick fuck. It was the kind of kiss that said
I’m tired, but I can’t resist you
.

That was fine with him. It was better than rejection, better than having no chance at all. He’d do all the work if need be. He needed her so bad his skin hurt.

“Veronica.” He slid his hands into the back of her pajama bottoms and cupped her ass as she slung a leg over his hip.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” It could wait. It wasn’t a time for heavy shit. It was a chance to make love.

He rolled her onto her back and slipped her pants down in one smooth yank. He cherished everything about the woman, mind, body, soul, but his biggest concern of the moment was her beautiful, maternal body. He’d done that. He’d made her look that way, all soft and curvy. The thought made him so hard his head swam.

He’d fill her up again and again for more beautiful children just like Joey if she’d let him, but given her contraceptive predicament at the moment, that wasn’t happening. Still, he’d take what he could get. She wasn’t shutting him out, so it was an opportunity to patch up some of their difficulties, or at least he hoped. If they could accept their physical needs, maybe Ronnie would come around and accept the emotional ones, too.

He eased his pants down, kicked them over the edge of the bed, and slipped into her slow and easy.

She let out a little moan that sounded a hell of a lot like
I’ve been waiting so long for this
.

So had he. Ever since she came back, he felt like he was in a situation not too dissimilar from the one her parents lived: married, but distant. She was there, but he couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t reap the benefits of her proximity. He felt like he had a wife he wasn’t allowed to touch because of some stupid thing.

Of course, that stupid thing was himself and his treatment of Landon.

She wrapped her other leg around his waist and tilted up to him.

Fuck.

He’d be lying if he said she didn’t feel different. She did, just like Charlene had after she had Landon, but he still filled her like a hand in a leather glove.

He pulled the lobe of her ear with his teeth and hissed through clenched teeth, “I missed you so much.”

She moaned.

That was okay. What was he expecting? That he’d stick his dick in her and suddenly there’d be an outpouring of affection?

He stilled.

She opened her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Everything. And nothing. He shook his head. “Just thinking about work.”

“Should I be offended?”

“Not at all.” He nudged the hem of her shirt up over her breasts and took in the sight of the full, firm orbs in the dim light. It wasn’t that it’d been all that long since he’d seen them, but watching her pop out a breast to feed Joey was different. He didn’t think about sex then. That was all about nourishment. Mothering. But with them crushed beneath him and her nipples hard as pebbles against his chest, of course he thought about sex and about
owning
them. He slipped out of her and eased back to drag the tip of his tongue around one brown areola.

She started to sit up. “John, I—”

There must have been something telling in the expression he cast up to her because she closed her mouth and lay against her pillow again.

He went back to lapping, first one nipple then the other, then squeezed her full breasts together and licked the cleavage between them.

“John, I can’t control it if I leak.”

“You’re really worried about that?” He clamped one nipple between his teeth and pulled. Nothing happened. He repeated it on the other side. One small bead of milk appeared which he licked away before she could put up a hand. It was hardly even a blip on his radar.

She seemed to relax after that, though, and her eyes closed once more.

He continued his attention to her breasts, licking, biting, and carefully sucking one then the other, so when he pushed his cock back into her their chests slid easily against each other from her wetness.

The sensation was overwhelming: her being so wet down below as he surged into her and the sensation of her taut nipples gliding over his wet skin. And then she spread her knees, opening herself up to him even more, and he nearly lost control.

“Veronica, I’m not going to last.”

“Mmm.” She reached a hand down between them and rubbed her clitoris, tickling her fingers against his nuts in the process.

“Not helping.” He brushed her hand aside and she groaned. “I’ll get you there.”

And he did, though it took all the will he had to bring her without losing control himself. When he finally came, grinding his teeth and shuddering at the hard, fast ejaculation inside her, Ronnie, formerly in an orgasmic daze opened her eyes and an expression of shock marred her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I thought I heard a coyote.”

He chuckled and rolled off her. “Could be.”

He fixed the covers over them and drew her against his chest. She was unusually tense at first, but after a moment relaxed and nestled her face into the crook of his neck, dancing her lips over his skin.

“Goodnight, John.”

He closed his eyes as a tiny sliver of relief unclenched his lungs. He breathed.

Ronnie paced, and when that didn’t make her feel any better she scratched her head, loosening the messy gathering of her ponytail, and not giving a shit how she must have looked. John kept coming over, and she kept sleeping with him. She didn’t want him to think everything was okay, because it wasn’t, but his body was so warm and felt so right in her bed that turning him away seemed like a waste of resources. She loved the man, and knew it in the same way she knew she loved all the kids, but really didn’t like some things about him. The Landon thing, for one. The political thing, well, that wasn’t quite a deal breaker, but ideologically she wasn’t sure if they meshed. And then there was the part about him being a bit of a possessive jackass. She didn’t like that one bit. He needed fixing, but she wasn’t sure she was the woman capable of handling the repair.

“Ronnie, I can’t think.” Peter complained.

She stopped pacing and looked over at the desk where Peter was trying to finish an exam before their trip. “Sorry, kiddo. I’ll just go in the kitchen. I’ve got to make a phone call, anyway.”

In the kitchen, she poured herself her fourth cup of coffee of the day and dialed Sid. Lately, her tendency had been to call the blonde ballbuster and not Phil when she needed advice of a personal nature. Phil was another guy she was still mad at.

“Yep.”

“Hey, are you spending the night here or are we picking you up on the way out of Storafalt?”

Sid laughed that hearty, brash laugh of hers. “That’s not what you called me for. What’s up?”

Ronnie sighed. “I need to make a decision about that temporary gig at the community school, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t see why that would be hard. Do you want to do it?”

“I miss having money of my own.”

“Are you shitting me? Don’t tell me that’s the only reason you’d do it. Woman, please.”

“No, not just that. I’m a teacher, and I wanted to go work somewhere where I could affect real change. That’s why I wanted to earn my PhD. Well, the universe is kind of pointing a neon sign at that place, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it kind of is, but are you really ready to go back to work? Serious question, so give me a serious answer, not the feminist lib shit I’ve probably spouted off a time or two myself.”

Ronnie hung her head. “No. Right now, a big part of me feels like I’d be okay with never going back to work. I like being here with the kids. All of them, including Kitty, but…”

“I know. You’d feel like you were wasting a perfectly good education.”

“Yeah.”

“What does John think?”

“I didn’t tell him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear his opinion when I hadn’t quite formulated one myself.”

“Well, Ronnie, I’m offering you this advice because you’re not just some random chick tutoring my kid. You’re the mother of my niece, so I have a stake in this. I say figure out some other way to help the school and stay home with that baby for as long as you can.”

“Oh, yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like Sid.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about cooking or cleaning, did I? I just don’t want you to have a sixteen-year-old one day and look back feeling miserable because you had a choice, but picked work.”

“You had a choice, Sid?”

“Yep. Mom and Daddy told us to move home, but I said no. I didn’t want anybody’s help. I was nineteen and had shit for brains back then and now what? Mom’s gone and me and John are on the outs half the time. I picked wrong ’cause of pride. I shoulda came home. I needed the structure.”

Ronnie drained the remnants of her coffee and rinsed the mug in the sink. “Do you think I’m prideful? You know, Celia called me a peacock last year.”

“Oh, screw that old coot. She’s just jealous that you’re smart and carry yourself well.”

“And what about everyone else in town who won’t even open their doors when I bring them dinners?”

“Scared.”

“Of what?”

“Being ashamed. I mean, come on, Ronnie. Don’t you see it? You swept into this dustball town all shiny and glamorous, and a lot of these folks have never even left the county. Just like you worry about them judging you, they’re worried about the same, that you’ll look inside their homes and think what they have isn’t enough.”