Mocha Latte (Silk Stocking Inn - Tess Oliver

Mocha Latte Silk Stocking Inn

Tess Oliver & Anna Hart

MOCHA LATTE Copyright© 2016 by Tess Oliver & Anna Hart This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22 MOCHA LATTE CUPCAKES MORE FROM SILK STOCKING INN ABOUT THE AUTHORS

CHAPTER 1 Some mornings rolled smoothly, starting with my first cup of coffee on the way to my car to the fifth or sixth cup at my lunch break, when I’d already dealt with all the major complaints and problems of the day. Other mornings

took a decidedly more bumpy path. Then there were the, thankfully, rare mornings with catastrophic, or, at the very least, life changing potholes thrown into the mix. But this morning’s wasn’t a detour I’d seen coming, and I could only blame myself for not paying better attention. I skimmed through the day’s script to the two highlighted lines. Skippy the Dinosaur or Ted, a middle aged man whose grumpy demeanor outside of the

big, green felt costume would have scared even the bravest kid, had complained that two of his lines didn’t sound like something Skippy would say. He’d insisted, as producer, I needed to look into it. A knock pulled me from the script. Jimmy, the head puppeteer, poked his head inside. “Becca, we’ve got a problem.”

“Come in, Jim. I can’t hear you over the clatter in the hallway. Why is there clatter in the hallway?” He stepped inside. “Everyone is running around looking for Spike.” “Spike? The puppet, or Vic, the voice of Spike?” “Spike, the puppet.” Jimmy, who could descend easily into a panic attack, fidgeted with the keys on his belt.

I stood up from the desk. “Take a deep breath, Jimmy. I don’t have time for one of your breathing into a paper bag sessions today. Then, tell me just how a dinosaur puppet managed to walk off set.” Jimmy’s thin shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, but it didn’t seem to help. He continued to finger the keys, a large collection that were the center of his day because each one

belonged to a trunk that housed one of the famous dinosaur puppets, the artfully crafted characters of the Skippy the Dinosaur morning show. “That’s just it,” Jimmy huffed, “I thought I’d carried him out to the set. He has a part in the first scene, so I made sure to take him out right away.” He took a few short, frantic breaths. I raised my brow at him in a silent warning not to hyperventilate.

“Then I’m sure he’s somewhere on the set. I’ve got to go over the script, Jimmy. I’m sure you’ll find Spike. Or just pull out the replacement puppet for today until the original trots back onto the set.” I sat down and took hold of the script again, satisfied that I’d solved the problem. Jimmy

stood

over

me,

still

fidgeting with the keys and now adding a shuffle to his feet. “The replacement is

out for repairs. One of his horns ripped off when I was taking him out of the trunk.” I lifted my eyes to him. “Then, I guess you need to find Spike.” He swallowed hard. “We’ve been looking for at least an hour. Filming is at a standstill until he shows up.” “Well, shit, Jimmy,” I started to go off on a rant but stopped when it seemed

that was all it was going to take to push him over the edge into a full scale anxiety meltdown. I skimmed the script for Spike’s part. “There are only a few lines, and they sound like something that Percy could say. I don’t see Percy in this scene at all. Tell Kelly to switch the lines to Percy.” Jimmy remained frozen to the spot.

“What?” I asked, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. He fingered the keys. “It’s just that —well, Percy is sort of mild mannered and Spike, well, he’s kind of badass. I don’t think the two are interchangeable.” I blinked at him. Jimmy took a few steps back. “I’ll go get Percy.” “Good idea. And find Spike. He

couldn’t have gotten too far, his feet are made of felt for fucksake.” Isabel, my assistant, pushed past Jimmy as he scurried out. “One of the advertisers, Gardener’s Insurance, is on line one. He’s not too happy about the fact that his ad got cut off two seconds early.” I was still perusing the script as I spoke. “Did you explain to him that it’s

the network’s fault and not the show’s?” “Tried to, but he rudely told me that he didn’t need to be lectured by an assistant.” My face shot up. Isabel had changed her hair color, yet again, and the constant quest for just the right color was slowly turning her hair into a ball of frizz. “What an ass. I’ll talk to him.” She turned to leave but stopped.

“Oh, and the florist is on line two. Something

about

the

bridesmaids’

bouquets. My dress still needs to be altered,” she added. “Makes me look like I have no boobs. Which, of course, I don’t, but your wedding guests don’t need to know that.” It was moments like these when I wished Nate and I had just run off to Vegas to get married. “Anything else?”

“Nope. Oh, except Nate wants you to call him the second you have a chance.” “Great.” I waved her out as I took a deep breath and picked up the phone to deal with the angry sponsor.

CHAPTER 2 Morning fires doused, dinosaur puppet found and production finally running smoothly, I took the lid off my coffee cup and downed the rest of it. I glanced at my phone. During the rush of the morning, I’d forgotten to call Nate.

He was more than likely in a meeting, so I decided to put the call off until lunch. Nate and I had been dating for six years. We’d both been so busy with our careers, we hadn’t given marriage much thought until the relationship seemed to be growing stale. We’d decided a wedding and a home together were what we needed to bring it back to life. Wedding plans had put some excitement back into our lives, but I wasn’t

completely convinced that same spark would last once the vows were said and the massive wedding bills rolled in. Still, Nate had always brought that piece of stability into my life that I badly needed. My parents had died in a car accident when I was ten. I was an only child. I was quickly popped around from relative to relative as if I was just an unwanted possession that my parents had owned.

Thankfully,

my

wonderful

grandfather took me in for good. At that time, he was a widower in his midseventies. He knew far more about cattle ranching than raising a teenage girl, but, together, we made it work. He took care of me, and I took care of him. Grandpa

died

during

my

sophomore year at college, and his loss had left me feeling as if the only person who mattered in my life was gone. Then Nate moved into the apartment next door.

He was handsome, charming and the catch of the campus. I fell instantly in love. I

moved

the

mouse

on

my

computer. Oddly enough, a website popped up. It was spam, obviously. Something about a Silk Stocking Inn and that I would soon be in need of a weekend away. I clicked out of it, but it stayed in place, tempting me with pictures

of

an

old,

weather-worn

Victorian house and scenic grounds that bordered a countryside with white fences and pastures that seemed to stretch on forever. There were even a few horses standing nearby the Silk Stocking Inn. The sight of them sent a couple twinges of bittersweet nostalgia through me. After college, I’d moved to the city to chase down a good job. I’d found one working for a children’s television network. Through hard work

and determination I’d managed to land a position as head producer on the studio’s top show. But there had been many times during my climb to the top and my whirlwind life in the city, that I’d felt homesick for the country, the smell of grass and horses and delicious down home country food. I deciding

clicked

the

I’d

wasted

website enough

again, time

daydreaming. The website flashed the

words ‘see you soon, Rebecca’ and then disappeared. I could see the stunned look on my face in the monitor. “Cookies and spam. It’s amazing what these sites can do to personalize their messages,” I muttered to myself. My phone buzzed. It was Nate. It was rare for him to call during the work day. Apparently what he needed to tell me couldn’t wait.

“Hey, Nate, it’s been crazy here this morning, and I just didn’t have time to call you. What’s up?” His silent pause was overrun by many voices and far too much noise for his office building. “Where are you?” More silence. I glanced at my phone to see if the connection was lost. “Nate, are you there?”

“Yes, Becca, I’m here. I just wanted to let you know that—” His voice trailed off and the void was filled by a flight announcement over

a

loudspeaker. “Are you at the airport?” The long, chaotic morning had left me at the end of my tether. I didn’t give him time to answer and jumped right into a rant. “That darn company you work for has no right to just send you off without a

moment’s

notice.

We’ve

got

an

appointment with the bakery tomorrow to pick cake flavors.” I picked up the empty coffee cup as if Nate could see me through the phone. “I’m leaning toward something with a mocha flavor. You know me and my coffee habit. Seems appropriate.” “Rebecca, please. I need to talk to you.” He rarely used my full name. His tone was beyond grim, as if something

terrible had happened. “Oh Nate, is it Grandma Nellie in New York?” “Grandma is fine. I’m not in New York. I’m in Australia.” “What? Australia. You know I’ve always wanted to go there. What kind of business are you doing down there?” “I’m not on business.” For once, I decided not to respond.

This

conversation

was

heading

somewhere very south, and it had nothing to do with the land down under. “Becca, I quit my job yesterday, and—” He stopped for a slightly unhinged chuckle. “I just got on a flight to Australia. I met someone.” I sat back hard on my chair as if someone had thrown a fist into my stomach. “You met someone?”

“It was weird. We ran into each other at the lunch counter at George’s diner. She was here on spring break from college, and we just hit it off.” “Spring break from college?” It seemed constructing my own responses within my stunned brain was impossible. I found that all I could do was repeat what he was telling me. None of it sounded real. Just like when my uncle had picked me up from school and sat

me down to tell me my parents were gone forever. The entire time I’d listened to his words but assured myself it wasn’t real. “I just needed to find myself. I wasn’t happy anymore. I’ll always love —” “Don’t.” I snapped out of my trance. “Don’t fucking tell my you’ll always love me because I don’t want to

hear it. You needed to find yourself, so you ran straight into the arms of a college

coed?”

I swallowed

hard

determined not to cry. Every question from—what the hell did I do to scare him off to how much humiliating gossip will I have to avoid once word gets around that the wedding is off—swam through my head. A long pause made the whole thing feel as if it wasn’t really happening.

“I

hope

you

find

happiness,

Rebecca. Truly.” “Huh?” I asked, hardly able to focus

on

the

conversation.

Anger

followed quickly. “Hope you find what you’re looking for, Nate, only don’t look too hard because frankly, you’re not all that impressive.” “You’re upset, Becca, and you’re saying things you don’t really mean. I

understand. It’s just that Mindy and I—” “Mindy and you? Fuck. I just wasted six years on you. Six of my best years too. My tight ass and perky boobs years, you asshole. But I guess you needed a new pair of perky boobs. Mindy’s boobs.” “Rebecca,” he started, but I was in no mood to hear his simpering tone. “Fuck off, Nate. Oh, and don’t

forget to swim with the jellyfish down there. I hear they have some really deadly ones.” I hung up and stared at my phone as if it was on fire. I didn’t know what to feel. It should have been devastation, and I considered that it might be coming along soon. Strangely enough, the man I’d spent the last six years of my life with had left me for another woman, and all I could think about were the calls and

cancelations I was going to have to make to erase our wedding plans. Of course, I really only had to cancel the dress and the flowers. Everything else was on Nate’s credit card, where it could stay until it was too late for a refund.

CHAPTER 3 The late Friday afternoon wind down was over, and most of the cast and crew had left for the weekend. I meandered around the dark set for no real reason except I wasn’t in a hurry to head home. It would be my fourth

weekend as a newly minted single. I’d promptly packed up all of Nate’s stuff and donated it to the local homeless shelter. We’d always both kept our own places, more to hold on to some slice of independence than anything else. There had been plenty of times during our six years together when I’d needed space from him and he’d needed to be away from me. That was something that was blisteringly apparent now that he’d

flown half way around the world to put some true distance between us. The strange thing was that I should have felt devastated and brokenhearted, but aside from a few twinges of loneliness, a nice bout of self-doubt and an occasional urge to call and talk to him, I’d felt little else. One thing was certain, I felt a big sense of relief that we’d never gone through with the wedding. It would have been far worse

to have him walk away once we’d tied the knot. This way the strings were easily broken with no legal commitment or lawyers. Footsteps

traveled

along

the

corridor from the costume studio to the stage. Isabel, who had now taken to wearing hats over her over-processed hair, peeked around the corner in her tweed newsboy cap. The look of worry that she’d perfected since Nate left me

crossed her face again. “Becca, are you sure you don’t want to come to happy hour with the rest of us? It’ll be fun. I’m worried about you. You need to get back on the horse.” I laughed. “You sound like my grandfather, only he literally meant get back on the horse.” I fingered the fake ferns running along the edge of the set. They were our prehistoric backdrop, and

like my social life, they were looking a bit tired and dusty. “Thanks for the invite and for worrying about me, Isabel, but I think I’ll just go home, zap myself a frozen dinner and watch some old westerns on the classic movie channel. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m really not depressed about Nate. I just don’t see myself out in the world, drinking, dancing and meeting new people yet.”

“All right, Becca. If you’re sure. I’ll see you Monday.” “Have fun tonight.” I checked that the lights were off and headed back to my office to shut down my computer. Isabel waved as she shut down her computer and pulled out her purse. My computer monitor glowed on my desk as I stepped into my dark office. I walked around to the keyboard to

power off. A website blinked back at me. It was the same unexplained site I’d seen before, on the day when had Nate called to tell me he’d flown off to find himself in the arms of another woman. A banner that read ‘Silk Stocking Inn where every heart’s desire is filled . . . and then some’ splashed across the top of the page. Right below it, a box with text appeared. “It’s time for that weekend

away, Rebecca. Happiness awaits you.” I glanced through the doorway to the center room. “Isabel? Are you still out there? Did you pull up this website?” I chuckled on my way out of the office. “Where on earth did you scrape up that cheesy dating site?” I stopped. Isabel’s desk was deserted, and my voice echoed back to me in the empty room. I was alone. I laughed again, figuring Isabel was having a good laugh about it all the

way home. I walked back to the office. It had been a long week. I looked forward to curling up on the couch draped in my favorite sweats, clutching the remote and devouring a bag of powdered sugar donuts. I ignored the flashing prompt that said ‘you deserve this, Rebecca’. I shut down the computer and walked to the

closet for my purse and sweater. The glow of the computer hadn’t dimmed by the time I pulled the sweater on and fished out my car keys. I returned to my desk and stared down at my computer. The Silk Stocking Inn with its

shabby exterior

and

impressive collection of roses blinked back at me. “What are you waiting for? Did I

mention we have horses? And you look like a girl who could use a little cowboy sweet talk in your life.” I dropped my purse to the ground as I sat at the keyboard. “Is this a prank?” “Not at all. See you soon.” With that, the computer shut down.

CHAPTER 4 My mind had been preoccupied with the silly website and the notion that, once again, I was headed home to spend two days alone, doing nothing. It wasn’t like me to feel sorry for myself, but I was definitely feeling a twinge of self-

pity. And, it must have been because of those few moments wallowing in my misery that I managed to take a completely wrong turn. I found myself driving down a long road that I’d never seen before. It was a little frightening to think that I’d been so completely out of it, I’d managed to end up utterly lost and confused on a route that I drove every single day. Somehow I’d managed to travel far

enough from the city that paved asphalt and parking lots had morphed into green pastures and open land as far as I could see. Which, with the abnormally heavy fog coasting in, was not terribly far. The early evening summer warmth that had prompted me to roll down my car windows slowly disappeared, and chilly, moist air swept in to replace it. I cranked up the windows and turned on my windshield wipers. With one wrong

turn, I’d found myself in an unfamiliar place and stuck in a clammy fog, an eerie

mist

that

had

somehow

spontaneously formed in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere. I could see no buildings, no cars and no people. I had no idea which way I was headed. I decided to stop and check my phone to see where I’d landed. I pulled off the road and picked up my phone. My screensaver, a picture of Spike, the

dinosaur puppet, a sexy, sophisticated screensaver if there ever was one, appeared, but none of the apps worked. There was no service at all. It was almost as if I’d driven right into a time zone where the internet and cell phones hadn’t been invented yet. After

wasting several

minutes

trying to revive my phone and the service, light suddenly flooded the car. I lifted my face. The phone slipped from

my hand as I sucked in a stunned breath. The fog had dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. But the true source of my shock was the large old house glowering down at me from atop its hill. It was the house from the weird website, minus the garlands of beautiful roses. Without the roses, the house looked tired and lifeless as if it needed a major dose of TLC. My phone beeped. I glanced frantically around for it. After a bit of

contortion and putting some of my yoga moves to good use, I managed to free it from beneath my brake pedal. Spike was gone, and his picture had been replaced by a luscious looking cupcake. A text message popped up beneath it. “Now that you’re here, come on up to the house. I’ve just finished a batch of my newest cupcake flavor—mocha latte.” I was crazy for even considering it, but without much thought, I found myself

putting the car in gear and chugging up the long driveway, right past the Silk Stocking Inn sign. None of it made any sense, yet somehow, that didn’t matter. I spent my entire workday living on the set of a fantasy show where dinosaurs talked and wore sneakers. Just maybe my life away from work needed that same break from reality. With the sour turn my life had taken recently, and the humiliation I’d had to endure telling

everyone that the wedding was off, not to mention pestering myself about what I might have done wrong, I was willing to chance it. The offer of a mocha latte cupcake didn’t hurt either.

CHAPTER 5 I drove up to the house and parked. It seemed the whole place was held together by luck. One good wind would surely bring it down around the owner’s ears. Which brought me to the obvious question—who

was

the

owner?

Someone with amazing marketing skills that was for sure. That was someone I needed to meet. Marketing was always at the top of my priority list. If I could grab some tips from the inn’s owner, it would make this unexplained detour worth the confusion. I grabbed my rather useless cell phone, deciding that even if I couldn’t call help with it, I could at least bludgeon someone

if

necessary.

I

grabbed my purse, also heavy enough to give someone a good wallop, and headed up the warped steps to the front door. A prickly vine, the last dead remnants of what must have once been a thriving rose bush, grabbed at my sweater. I unhooked it and took a deep breath before knocking. The door opened on its own. The inside of the house looked nothing like the

outside.

Inviting

decor

and

sumptuous

wallpaper

flooded

the

entryway. One step inside and my senses were overwhelmed by the rich mingling scents of coffee and chocolate. If the aroma was any indication, I was soon to be rewarded for my courage and initiative with an incredible mocha latte cupcake. “Hello?” My voice echoed back to me.

“Just down the hallway. Follow the cupcake scent.” The woman’s voice was welcoming and kind. I did as she’d instructed and followed the delicious aroma down the narrow hallway and into a large room that had been set up with quaint tables, metal chairs and all the decor and flowers of a street corner bake shop. I’d

had

only

the

slightest

apprehension about entering the house,

and it had all but disappeared. I felt welcome and safe and inexplicably happier than I had been in a long while. I chalked it up to the charming ambience and the tray of luscious looking cupcakes that silently begged me to approach the sparkling counter that was bursting with an array of baked goods. But my eyes and my nose stayed focused on the dark brown cakes. Each one was topped with a rich chocolate glaze.

I could hear someone clinkering around in the kitchen, so, like a welldisciplined child, I sat on the stool in front of the cupcakes, nearly drooling over them, as I waited for permission to try one. And as if my thoughts had been read, the woman called out from her kitchen. “Please, help yourself to a cupcake. I’ll be right out.”

It was all the invitation I needed. I picked up the cupcake. With no patience for

removing

those

pesky

paper

wrappers, I dragged my tongue across the chocolate glaze on top. It was melt in your mouth delicious, and I made a sound that went along perfectly with the taste. My sugar taste buds saturated with topping for the moment, I took some time to strip the tender cake of its paper peel.

The bite I took nearly obliterated half the cupcake. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the shiny marble tile on the backsplash. My cheeks puffed out like a well-fed

hamster’s.

massive

bite

into

I

chewed

the

something more

manageable. I finished by licking my fingertips. The creamy, coffee-infused glaze was not the kind of thing you wasted on a napkin, even though there was a stack nearby.

“Think I might just need a cold shower after watching you eat that cupcake.” I spun around on the stool and nearly toppled sideways when my eyes landed on the tall figure in the far corner of the bakery. He had pulled out a second chair, and his boots were crossed at the ankles as he had them resting up on the seat of the chair. His hat, a black Stetson, was sitting on the

table next to a plate of food and a bottle of beer. I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark corner, but he had nice shoulders and an unshaven jaw that looked pretty damn good from my vantage point. The kind of tight angular chin that went well with a black cowboy hat. I was never easily embarrassed, and while I should have been somewhat ashamed of my unabashed finger licking

session, I couldn’t work up even the lightest blush. I even concluded my snack session with a final lick of my thumb. “Didn’t

realize

anyone

was

watching. Otherwise, I might have toned it down to a PG version of cupcake gobbling.” I held the empty wrapper up proudly. “Although, it tasted so good, I was actually holding back some.”

“Well damn, don’t let me stop you from thoroughly enjoyin’ the next one. But take your time. I like it slow and easy. You sort of inhaled the last one as if it was ‘bout to jump from your fingers.” His twang was just enough to make me more than interested in seeing his face clearly. But he remained shadowed in the corner. “Slow and easy? Huh. Don’t think I’ve ever met a cowboy who liked it

slow and easy.” I couldn’t believe how quickly

I’d

jumped

into

a

flirty

conversation with a complete stranger, a man whose face I hadn’t even seen yet. But I was enjoying it. He dropped his boots to the ground, one foot at a time, and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. For a second time, I nearly slipped off the stool. Pale green eyes gazed at me from beneath a head of shiny

black hair. And I’d been right about the jaw. In fact, the entire face would look spectacular gazing out from beneath the shade of a cowboy hat. Mostly because the

face

was

nothing

short

of

spectacular. A lopsided smile curled his mouth, adding another layer to the layers of heartbreak. “So you know a lot of cowboys, do ya?”

I shrugged. “Let’s just say I spent my carefree teen years on a cattle ranch. Might have been a few young wranglers passing through for work.” I froze for a second and laughed. “Jeez, that sounds terrible, doesn’t it. Let me reword that. I was a curious teenage girl with more than one crush on a man in a hat and cowboy boots. I never actually—Well, you get it.” Footsteps pattered along the floor

behind me. I was relieved to have a reason to pull away from his highly seductive gaze. A woman appeared around the corner. She had on a flannel shirt and jeans as if she’d just stepped out of the barn instead of the kitchen. Oddly enough, as she turned the corner, she was much younger than I’d first thought. Something about the way she moved had me confused. Her bright green eyes sparkled with youth, but

something about her face assured me she was wise for her age. One thing was certain—the woman knew how to bake a cupcake. “Rebecca, or should I call you Becca? I’m Coco, the owner of Silk Stocking Inn.” She held out a smooth, thin hand that went with the young face. “Uh—Becca is fine. How did you know my name?” I stopped and waved a

finger at her. “Cookies. Not only are you an expert at cupcakes but you are masterful at computer cookies.” She blinked an enviable set of long, black lashes at me, acting as if she had no idea what I was talking about. It had to be an act. It seemed she wasn’t planning to hand out any trade secrets. She pointed back to the kitchen she’d just come from. “I do have some

oatmeal raisin if you prefer cookies.” I laughed, letting her know that I was on to her. “No, thank you, Coco. The mocha latte cupcake will do just fine. I suppose my online coffee buying habits are stored in those cookies as well.” She continued with a clueless expression. “I’m so sorry, Becca, I’m not following your line of conversation.”

She glanced at the empty wrapper on the counter. “Did you enjoy the cupcake?” “Best one I’ve ever had.” “I’m glad.” Her glittering eyes flashed to the corner of the bakery. “Jackson, are you through with that plate? I want to run the dishwasher.” My quest for marketing secrets had temporarily pulled my attention from the handsome, flirtatious diner at the back of

the room. I turned around to look at him. He pushed the hat down low over his head and stood up. He had the whole tall, broad shouldered cowboy thing going on. He picked up the plate and beer. There was even the usual swagger in his stride, a swagger that came from spending a lot of hours in the saddle. My grandpa used to call it his John Wayne strut. He’d been extra proud of his bowed legs, even though they pained him

with arthritis in the end. He’d always boasted that he’d earned every ache and pain. The closer the cowboy got, the clearer the picture became. He was amazing. “Jackson, I don’t know if you two have met. This is Becca. She’s a producer at a children’s television network.”

My surprised gaze shot Coco’s direction for a fleeting second, but I reminded myself that it would be easy enough for anyone to know my position. My name was listed on the credits and the studio website, not to mention all the social media I was part of. Jackson’s handshake was strong and firm as expected. What I hadn’t expected was the sudden rush of heat that swirled through me as I momentarily

imagined his hands all over me. He reached up and tipped his hat in a typical cowboy hello. He truly had it down to an art. “Never would have pegged you as a television producer type.” His eyes drifted down to my knee length skirt and red leather, slip-on heels. “Guess that skirt and those shoes should have been a clue.”

Coco poured me a cup of coffee and placed it on the counter. “Becca knows horses. She grew up on a ranch.” This time my shocked look stayed glued on Coco. “How on earth did you know that?” Jackson answered for her. “You were just telling me about your teen years on the cattle ranch, remember?” “Oh, yes, that’s right. I suppose

that means

you heard

the

whole

conversation?” I asked, feeling more than a little ashamed. Coco

laughed.

“Wasn’t

really

paying attention.” She reached back to untie her apron and placed it on a hook behind the counter. “I’ll bet you’re tired after your long work week. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.” “What? My room? I can’t stay. I

just stopped in for a cupcake.” “Oh,” Coco said disappointedly. “I suppose you have big plans. Makes sense that you’d be in a hurry to go.” I nodded weakly. If there was one thing I was terrible at, it was lying. “No plans really. It’s just—it’s just my plants need water and then there’s the mail . . .” My voice trailed off as each aspect of my dull, pathetic life was revealed.

“I’m sure those plants can survive two days without you,” Coco said cheerily. “Anyhow, it’s free. And I can promise you the best cup of Joe—” She lifted her coffee pot. “And the best vittles this side of the Mississippi,” she said with her own practiced cowboy drawl. “I don’t understand. How can you do this for free?”

“Let’s just say it’s part of my masterful marketing skills.” She winked as if she had been reading my thoughts. Something that seemed more plausible with each passing moment. Jackson walked his plate into the kitchen. “I’m going to head out and finish the barn chores, Coco. Thanks for the dinner.” “Wait, Jackson,” she called.

He poked his handsome face back into the bakery. Coco smiled at me. “I’ll bet it’s been awhile since you did barn chores, Becca.” My mind drifted instantly back to Grandpa’s big red barn. I’d spent so much time in the place, Grandpa used to joke that he’d move my bed there. Everything about the memories of living

on the ranch warmed my heart and made me feel homesick for those carefree days. “It has been a long time. Not even sure I’d know which end of the mucking fork to hold anymore.” I laughed. “I’ll show ya,” Jackson said. “Meet you out there, but you might want to trade in those heels for something more practical.” He looked pointedly at

the skirt. “But I’m kind of partial to that skirt, so if you want to wear it—I’m sure the horses won’t object.” With that, he walked out, his boot heels pounding the wood floor as he headed through the kitchen and out the back door. “He raised a good point. I’ve got nothing to wear for a weekend away. Especially one that involves horses and barn chores.”

Coco stepped out from behind the counter. She was smaller and more petite than I’d realized, but she was one of those women with a huge presence, regardless of physical size. “I’m sure I can rummage up some clothes that’ll fit. Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”

CHAPTER 6 After showing me to a glorious room, complete with floral printed linens and an incredible antique iron bed that was overflowing with pillows and downy quilts, my weekend hostess continued her surprises by bringing me a

pair of jeans, a soft flannel shirt and a pair of cowboy boots. It seemed they hadn’t been worn and yet they were comfortable as if someone had walked a hundred miles in them to soften the leather. Most surprising of all was that everything fit as if it had been made just for me. “I’ve brought you some supper,” Coco called through the door, as she knocked again.

I click clacked to the door in my boots to answer it. For the briefest, strange moment, as I opened the door, I was sure Coco’s face looked older, with fine lines and creases around her eyes and mouth. Then the faint wrinkles faded. I pushed the incident out of my head when she walked past with a plate of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and coleslaw. “Figured you’d be hungry after a

long day at work.” “I am. Although I’ve already had dessert.” I chuckled. “Best cupcake I’ve ever had, by the way.” “My theory on dessert is you should eat it whenever the need for sweet happiness arises. And, Becca, I know

you’ve

been

through

some

unhappiness lately. I can see it in your eyes. So, I think dessert first is

completely justified.” Coco lowered the plate onto the small table sitting in front of an upholstered window seat. She drew back the heavy drapes. A silver moon shined through the wavy glass pane. “Is it really still that obvious? That I’ve been through something? I was hoping it didn’t show much anymore.” “It’s starting to fade, I think. This

weekend might just erase it for good.” There was no possible way she knew what had gone on in my personal life, but with the way she looked at me, it seemed she knew just what I was feeling. She really was a remarkable person. The aroma of her fried chicken was making me nearly dizzy with hunger. I walked to the window seat and looked

down at the crispy golden chicken and fluffy mashed potatoes. A dollop of butter melted in the center of the potatoes like a golden pool in the crater of a mountain. “This

reminds

me

of

my

grandfather’s cooking. He made fried chicken that could make your mouth water just thinking about it. Thank you for this. It’s bringing back memories that I needed to find. I hadn’t lost them, after

all. I’d just been too busy to reminisce.” “I’m glad then. Everyone needs to hold on to the things that matter most. Even a broken heart can’t take them away.

It’s

those

little,

nostalgic

moments, those epiphanies, that keep us grounded and happy.” She took a breath and beamed excitedly down at my outfit. “You look great, by the way. Like a girl ready to

sling a mucking fork and look darn sexy doing it.” I laughed. “Well, I don’t know about darn sexy, but the boots and jeans will definitely work better in a barn. I’m looking forward to the familiar sights and sounds.” “And smells,” she added. “I know this sounds nutty, but I’ve always been comforted by the animal

smells.” I rocked back on my heels to lift the toes of the boots. They were two toned leather beauties with an intricate pattern

and

stitching.

“These

are

beautiful. They remind me of a pair I grew up in. I had them so worn out, they were more like socks than leather boots by the time I shelved them for good. Not that I wanted to give them up, but when the rocks started seeping in through the holes I knew it was time to let them go. I

still have them in my closet.” After yet another stroll down memory lane, I sat down to the plate of food. “I know you call this an inn, but where do the horses come in?” I lifted a drumstick to my mouth and took my first glorious bite. “Horseback riding is one of the activities we offer at the Silk Stocking Inn. I hired Jackson recently to look after

the horses. He was in need of a place to stay.” I swallowed fast, nearly choking on the bite. “He stays here? At the inn?” “For now. My needs and this place change a lot. Let’s just say, I like to adapt

activities

to

my

clientele.”

Something about the twinkle in her eye told me there was more to the statement than just changing things up a bit.

“Although,

cupcakes

are

standard.

Sometimes it seems as if the Silk Stocking Inn was built up around a batch of cupcakes. Like the chicken and egg conundrum.

What

came

first—the

cupcake or the inn? Either way, they are both here to stay.” She took a deep breath. “And so are you, for the next few days. So enjoy. I’ll point you in the direction of the barn when you’re finished with your plate.” She headed to

the door, opened it and then looked back at

me.

“And,

Becca,

remember

everything happens for a reason.” She walked out and closed the door.

CHAPTER 7 I carried my plate down to the kitchen. Coco was sitting at her massive kitchen island writing on a recipe card. She glanced up over a small pair of spectacles, once again making her look older. But her young smile wiped away

the illusion. “I thought I’d write down the recipe for the mocha latte cupcakes before it flitted away through my Swiss cheese brain. Thanks for the flavor idea. I think they turned out great.” I froze halfway to lowering my plate into the sink. My face flashed her direction. “What do you mean? How could I have given you the idea? You had

them baked before I reached the inn, an inn that I hadn’t planned on stopping at.” “Really? Huh. I guess you’re right.” With an innocent blink of her lashes, she looked back through her wire rimmed glasses and moved her pen again. “Is the barn through that back door?” I asked, remembering that my handsome cupcake eating audience had

left through it. “Yes.” She pointed with her pen. “Through that door and then travel the path along the rose bushes until you get to a wide green pasture. You can’t miss the barn. It’s big and red, and it looks, ironically enough, like a barn.” “Great. I’ll see you later then.” “Have fun,” she said, without looking up from her recipe.

I pushed through the screen door. A warm breeze carried the familiar scent of fresh grass and horses my direction. It was home. I was home . . . almost. Grandpa’s

booming laugh and

the

pungent scent of his tobacco pipe were, of course, noticeably absent. The full moon showered the path with its eerie glow. The roses lent their fragrance to the already sweet smelling night air. Unlike the dead rose vines

clinging to the facade of the inn, the bushes bloomed with buoyant clusters of pink and yellow petals. I

meandered

along the

path,

suddenly feeling a bit nervous about seeing Jackson again. The few moments in the bakery had been the first time I’d flirted overtly with a man since I’d met Nate. Mentally, I’d blamed it on the sugar rush I was experiencing from the cupcake. But in truth, it was as if the

man, the exact man who had often traipsed into one of my romantic dreams, had landed in my path. I was instantly attracted to him. And after spending the last three weeks in near social seclusion, other than my nightly threesome with Ben and Jerry, it had felt good to act a little wanton with a man. As promised, the big red barn loomed in the distance. I picked up my pace, suddenly feeling like a carefree

teen again. I was nearly running by the time I reached the two round pens in front of the barn. The soft snorts of horses, who were happily grazing on dinner, rolled out from the building. The warm earthy scent that followed made me grin with anticipation. I was transported back in time again. I stepped inside the well-lit barn and walked right up to the first stall. A thick, stout draft horse with a feathery

white mane looked up from his dinner. Concluding that I hadn’t brought anything better than his mound of hay, he dropped his muzzle back into his feeder. I turned and saw a wheelbarrow standing in the breezeway, sitting right outside of the end stall. I combed my fingers through my shoulder length hair and headed toward it with the tender nerves of a girl working up the courage to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on.

Jackson stepped out of the stall just as I reached it. I ran smack into his hard chest. I bounced back with a gasp. “Sorry. Bad timing,” I said, taking another step back. “And here I was thinking just the opposite.” His green eyes flickered under the barn lights. He’d left his hat off for mucking. As hot as he looked with the black hat, my heart was racing

just fine looking at him without it. “If you get me a fork and a wheelbarrow, I can shovel some manure for you. Used to be pretty good at it,” I boasted and then realized how silly it sounded. “Real poop, I mean. Not bull shit. I’m actually really bad at that. Lying, that is.” He lifted his arm and leaned it up against the stall door. “I see you decided

against the skirt. But the jeans work too.” He lowered the tip of the fork to the ground with his other arm. “This is the last stall.” “I guess I wasn’t much help then. Sorry about that. I sort of got lost in a plate of fried chicken. Almost brought tears to my eyes, it was so good.” He laughed as he turned and lifted the wheelbarrow. “Yep, Coco’s food

will do that to ya.” I followed him out into the summery night. We walked across the yard to the manure pile, and he dumped the barrow. “It sure is nice out here.” The only lights on the horizon were the tiny twinkling porch lights, front and back, on the inn. The old house looked taller and more majestic from a distance, as if it

had stood proudly in the same spot for a century. Which, no doubt, it had. “Want to take a ride?” I looked at him. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms. I hadn’t seen a pair of arms, muscular and powerful from hard work, in a long time. Something about his caused a flutter in my belly. “At night? It’s been awhile since

I’ve ridden.” “Like

riding

a

bicycle.”

He

shrugged and turned the wheelbarrow around. “The way you went at that cupcake, just took you as a woman with a bit of spunk.” He rolled the barrow back toward the barn. I stomped after him. “I’ve got spunk. Damn it. You know what? Let’s ride. Saddle me your

fiercest stallion, and I’ll show you spunk.” He stopped without warning. I ran into his back and bounced back, just as I’d done in the barn. He turned around with a laugh. “Looks like you need a new set of brakes, Spunky. I’ll saddle a horse for you.” His dark brow arched. “You sure you want a stallion?” “Well, maybe one of your bomb-

proof geldings for this first initiation back in the saddle.” “Right. We’ll save Thunderstorm for your second ride.” His long legs made his stride impossibly fast to keep up with, but I managed to hurry along next to him to avoid any more collisions. Not that I minded it. If I was going to crash into something, a hunky cowboy built like a

brick wall was a good choice. “Do you really have a stallion named Thunderstorm?” I asked as we reached the barn. “Don’t even have a stallion. I’d just as soon have a fire breathing dragon inside one of those stalls.” The down-home way he spoke put a smile on my face. “My grandpa used to say ‘if you’re not breeding mares then

keeping

a

stallion

is

just

plain

foolhardy’.” “Smart man, your grandpa.” We reached a stall door, and he slid it open. The inside had been transformed into a tack room. The smell of worn leather and saddle blankets coasted out. An array of western saddles were draped over wall racks. Long leather reins and silver bridles dangled

along hooks on the adjacent wall. Jackson stopped in front of the wall of saddles. “Let’s see which of these will work for you.” There was an odd, almost antique looking saddle on a saw horse in the corner. I walked over and fingered the well-oiled sidesaddle?”

leather.

“Is

this

a

“Yep. That’s the one Coco uses. She claims it’s the way she learned to ride.” “Really?

I

know

sometimes

women ride sidesaddle just for novelty and to show how skilled they are, but I didn’t think anyone from this century would ever have learned it from the start.” “Sometimes, I think Coco has seen

as much of history as that old house of hers.” He reached up and yanked down a simple,

lightweight looking saddle.

“You’re going to ride Archie. This saddle fits him best. It’ll work for you too.” He held the saddle against his hip, looking every bit as cowboy as possible. “You ready to ride, Spunky?” I smiled. “Why do I get the feeling

that I just earned myself a nickname?” He stepped closer, close enough that I could nearly count every one of his long black eyelashes. “I kind of like it, myself.” He stared pointedly down at my lips. For a brief second, I was sure he’d kiss me. And I would have been just fine with that. A long, warmly tense moment followed and my lips nearly tingled with

the notion of his kiss, a tingle that drifted down

through

my

body,

stopping

between my thighs. He was a ten, a massive, rugged, oozing manliness ten and briefly I wondered what the heck I’d ever seen in Nate. Jackson smiled and I was fairly certain my heart melted just a bit. “Well, damn. I think this is going to be a good weekend.”

CHAPTER 8 Archie, a sorrel gelding with a shaggy

mane

temperament,

and

a

snorted

sweet, curiously

silly at

nature’s nighttime fragrances. “He seems to have a slight hitch in the back right leg,” I noted as we walked the horses

along a smooth dirt trail leading away from the barn and the inn. In front of us, halfway circled by a copse of thick trees, sat a pond, looking serene and idyllic as if it had just been painted into the landscape. But the green, musky smell of fresh water assured me it wasn’t just a painting. “Yep, his right hock locks up on him sometimes. You’re good. Not many people would notice it.”

“I was lucky enough to ride a lot of different horses on Grandpa’s ranch, some good, some ornery, some just plain crazy. Of course, they probably thought the same of me.” I reached forward and patted Archie’s neck. “So he doesn’t mind being ridden?” “I think it actually loosens him up when he gets out for a ride. The hitch is only noticeable when he walks. His trot and lope are fine.”

Jackson stopped his horse, and Archie followed without me having to halt him. We stared out at the large pond. Its glassy surface mirrored the silhouette of the surrounding trees. I hadn’t traveled far from home when I ended up at the Silk Stocking Inn, yet it seemed that I was far away from the city and deep in the country, a place that had always felt like home. Jackson looked over at me. His

eyes were an unearthly green under the moonlight. “Never would have taken you as the ranching type. But I can see, with the way you sit that saddle, that your riding skills are almost as good as your cupcake eatin’ skills.” I couldn’t hold back a grin. “Can’t even imagine what you must have thought of me when you saw me sit down and gobble that cupcake . . . like a caveman or cavewoman.”

He gazed at me now as if he could see straight into my thoughts. “When you walked in and I saw your face, I thought that broken angel is in need of some much deserved attention.” He reached across and pushed back a strand of hair. I held my breath as his fingers grazed my cheek and ear. As light and gentle as the gesture had been, he might just as well have taken me into his arms and kissed me.

“It shows,” he said. “What shows?” I asked with my first real breath since he’d touched me. “Whatever the hell that guy did to you. It shows.” I pulled my face away and stared down at the horse beneath me. “Thought I was covering it better than that. I never let myself cry about it. In fact, I’m not completely sure tears would have come

if I had allowed them. I was more disappointed in myself. Figured it was all my fault for not keeping his interest.” “The guy was an idiot.” He threw his long leg over the saddle and dropped down to the ground. I followed. We walked the horses to the thick grass growing along the perimeter of the pond. They instantly dropped their heads to graze.

Having my long term boyfriend and fiancé run off with another woman hadn’t

exactly

been

my

proudest

moment. I was anxious to change the subject. Thankfully, Jackson didn’t know any details, even though he was astute enough to see through the poker face I’d been wearing since Nate’s phone call. “Did you grow up on a ranch?” I asked.

“Sort of. My parents split when I was young. They sold off the ranch. I bounced around the country with my mom until she couldn’t handle my wild ways anymore.” He looked pointedly at me. “Her words, not mine. She shipped me back to my dad, who had no interest in raising me. So I found a way to raise myself. I wandered from ranch to ranch as a hired hand, never really settling in anywhere.”

“No other family or friends?” “I’ve got friends from one side of the country to the other but no one rock solid. No one I keep in steady contact with. And no one to come home to.” His last words tugged at my heart. “I’ve been working late every night, hanging out in the studio long after everyone else has gone home, just because I hate walking into my empty

apartment.

Everyone

should

have

someone to come home to. Don’t you think?” He stared out at the water. “I think you’re right about that, Spunky.”

CHAPTER 9 We rode back, mostly in silence. I’d learned a few things in the half hour ride with Jackson, revelations that hadn’t occurred to me until tonight. I’d convinced myself that I’d handled the break-up stoically, that I was certain

everyone was marveling at just how unflappable I was. It had been important to keep a stiff upper lip at work. I was the producer, the person everyone came to with problems, and I didn’t want to appear weak by falling apart at the seams after Nate left me. I hoped that I’d been imagining the empathetic smiles and glances from the cast and crew. But all along, it seemed, I’d been wearing my broken heart right on my proverbial

sleeve. Jackson had seen it the moment I walked into the bakery, and he’d known nothing about me or the break-up. I’d also realized that I badly needed to move on. It was time to shove the Chunky Monkey and Mocha Swirl back into the freezer and get serious about dating again. Going home to an empty apartment had been the hardest part of all. I needed to know someone was waiting for me to come home. I

needed that again. My biggest fret, now, was how the heck I was ever going to trust anyone with my heart again. We reached the barn. I watched as my extremely appealing trail guide jumped down from his horse. Jackson was, of course, the last thing I needed. A man like him would have no shortage of women. But I wondered if a flirtatious,

sexy weekend away from home with a man who I would probably never see again, would be just what I needed to restore some confidence. I climbed off Archie and followed Jackson and his horse into the stables. We put the horses in cross ties. “You’re the only guest this weekend. If you like, we can take a longer ride tomorrow.”

I tapped my chin as if I was actually trying to decide. “Let’s see, a scenic horseback ride with a very hot cowboy—uh, yep. That works.” I could see a crease in his cheek as he stifled a grin. “Very hot cowboy, I like that.” I unfastened the cinch on my horse. “That can’t be the first time a woman has referred to you as a very hot cowboy. I

mean,

you

are

western

calendar

material, my friend.” He shrugged as he hauled the saddle and blanket off his horse. “Calendar material.” He laughed, and shook his head as he disappeared into the tack room. I pulled off my saddle and followed him. He lifted the saddles back onto

their racks. Before I could walk back out, he took hold of my hand. He turned me to face him and pushed my chin up with the side of his finger. His focus went straight to my lips again. I crossed my toes in my boots that this was leading to the much anticipated kiss. “Two rules for this weekend.” “Yes?” The waver in my voice caught me off guard just as the moment

had. “These lips—” He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. “Are mine for the next forty-eight hours.” He dropped his brazen gaze to my body. “This delectable set of curves are mine too. And, most importantly, you leave here forgetting everything about that dimwit asshole except that he is a dimwit asshole.” He lowered his mouth to mine and pressed it over my lips. It

was a gentle, teasing kiss that did not disappoint and left me nearly frantic with wanting more. Just one, easy kiss and my mind fuzzed up with erotic urges and images. He lifted his face. I opened my eyes and gazed up bleary eyed at him. “Three,” I said on a sigh. “That was three rules.” “Was it? Lost count.” He lowered

his mouth to mine again. He smelled of man’s soap, hay and the sweet grit of the work day. It was the best damn fragrance in the world. “See what you’ve already done to me, woman? And I’ve only kissed you. You just might have my head spinnin’ before this weekend is over.”

CHAPTER 10 Jackson had things to finish up in the barn and I, feeling beyond giddy from the flirting, something we’d quickly gotten down to an art, headed back to the inn for a much needed shower and rest. Coco was just coming down the

stairs as I reached them. “I just put some fresh towels and a little something for sleep time in your room.” She was always wearing a smile that seemed to indicate

that

she

knew

even my

innermost thoughts. “Sometimes it’s fun to wear something that feels just a bit naughty, don’t you agree? It’s a luxury we girls should never ignore. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies. I’ll bring you up one. I’ll leave it outside your

door in case you’re in the shower.” “Thanks so much, Coco. This place is wonderful. Five star all the way. Actually, your baking might even be in a star rating system of its own.” “Well, good night then, Becca. See you in the morning.” I stepped inside the room. It looked even cozier in the deep shadows of night. I walked to the window to

lower the drapes. In the distance, I could see Jackson walking out of the barn. His broad shoulders and cool swaggering stride unfurled heat in my pussy, a profound reaction I hadn’t expected. I dropped the drapes and wondered where the man slept. I supposed it was possible that he had a room downstairs. The bathroom had been updated with the glass and tile of a modern bathroom. The shower was spa-like, and

I spent far too long in the warm mist, not wanting to leave its comfort. I’d needed this, all of this, cowboy included. In one short evening, Jackson had restored some of the confidence I’d lost. I coaxed myself out of the shower and was reminded that Coco had left something for me to wear to bed. I patted myself dry. Even her towels were ethereal. I walked into the bedroom and saw, for the first time, a shimmery pink

puddle of fabric sitting on the antique dresser. I hurried over, excited to see what she’d left for me. I lifted up the light-asair garment. Although, calling it a garment might have been a stretch. It was more a whisper of satiny material held together by gossamer and lace. The nightie was in the short baby-doll style one might wear on a wedding night, with two panels that opened down the middle.

The satin panels were attached to a bralike top that was made from a material so sheer, it wouldn’t conceal the tiniest freckle. The straps were spaghetti thin, and the matching panties were a thong consisting of thin lace and a pink satin triangle. I was standing alone in a room and only holding the lingerie, but it made me blush pink to think of wearing it. Then Coco’s words came back to me about wearing something naughty

now and then just because. It was certainly overtly sexy and feminine. And I needed to feel sexy and feminine. What could it hurt? Not to mention, my work clothes and the jeans and shirt that I’d worn to the barn, weren’t really suitable or comfortable for sleeping. I dropped the towel and slipped it on. I allowed myself a few minutes of modeling the itsy bitsy nightie in the mirror. It was definitely the height of

provocative. Instantly, it made me feel, just as Coco had suggested, naughty. And I had to admit, I looked pretty good in it too. I briefly imagined myself taking a selfie and sending it to Nate. Just as quickly, I wanted to kick myself for even thinking it. Nate had lost his privilege of seeing me in see-through lingerie. I so needed to get that asshole out of my head for good. The scent of brown sugar seeped

under

the

door,

and

I

quickly

remembered the promise of a chocolate chip cookie. I looked down at my attire, or lack thereof, and reached for the shirt I’d worn down to the barn. It smelled distinctively of horse, and I was flowery fresh from my shower. The cookie was right outside the door. Chocolate chip was well worth the risk. I opened the door and peered out, keeping my scantily clad body hidden

from the empty hallway. I leaned my head out farther. Unfortunately, the cookie couldn’t be reached from where I stood. It looked utterly delicious, and I had no intention of leaving it in the hallway. I looked both ways, as if crossing a busy street rather than stepping into a completely deserted hallway. I heard some light rustling in the room across the way, which was unexpected because

Jackson had mentioned that I was the only guest this weekend. I dashed around the edge of the door and leaned down to pick up the plate. A breeze, an unexplained movement of air, brushed my half-naked bottom, and my bedroom door snapped soundly shut. The cookie nearly slid off the plate, but I caught it before tragedy struck. I hadn’t locked the door. I reached for the knob with my free hand.

The knob turned, but the door was stuck. I rocked it with one hand, sure it would pop open. It didn’t. Always being the multi-task type, I slid a buttery edge of the cookie into my mouth, put the plate on the ground and used both hands to open the door. It didn’t budge. I shook it wildly, sure that there had to be some way to open it. The knob was turning, assuring me it wasn’t locked.

I heard a door behind me open, and another cool breeze tickled my naked ass and lifted the shimmery panels of the nightie up like wings. I froze in horror, sure that I’d turn around and face some nice elderly couple who had decided to stay the night, or worse, two teenage boys who were just running down to the kitchen to get cookies. “Need some help with that door?” His deep, already familiar voice should

have calmed my earlier terror, but the feeling only intensified. Had I been delusional about the way I looked in the scant piece of satin? I was suddenly feeling

more

ridiculous

and

self-

conscious than I had in my entire life. I turned around, so worried about the lingerie that I’d completely forgotten about the cookie dangling from my mouth. I bit down and the rest of the cookie dropped to the floor. I stared

down at it, and temporarily wondered if I could apply the five second rule at such a vulnerable time. Probably not a good idea. I slowly lifted my gaze. Jackson had taken time to pull on his jeans, but he hadn’t bothered to button the fly. My eyes traveled along the black line of hair as it dissolved away to naked skin beneath the opening on his pants. I swallowed hard as I took in the rest of him. His bare chest and shoulders

were taut with the muscles of a man who didn’t shy away from hard work . . . and hard play, no doubt. I curled my fingers to keep from reaching out and running my hands over his tanned skin. “Holy shit, woman.” Jackson’s green eyes darkened to emeralds as he boldly looked me up and down. “You trying to send me to an early grave?” I lifted my hands hesitantly to my

sides. “Do you like it?” He stared far longer than would be considered chivalrous at my nearly naked breasts and then lifted his heavy, heated gaze to my face. “What the hell do you think? Came out to help you with your door, but sure didn’t expect this kind of a thank you. You just made my night, Spunky.” My body was trembling with

nerves, but my mind was telling me to take the chance. It was my weekend away, away from everything that had happened. My new welcome to a decidedly more exciting social life. “I’d invite you in if I could get the door to open.” Without hesitation, he reached past me, shrouding me with his incredible body heat as he leaned forward stopping

just inches from me. Behind me the door clicked easily open. His smooth brow arched, and he grinned down at me as if this had all been an act. “I promise you it wouldn’t open.” “I believe ya. I got the door open. Is the invite still good?” I hesitated, naturally. I hadn’t been with another man in six years. My

confidence in that area was lacking completely. After so many years with the same man, sex had become rather pedestrian, unfortunately. We followed a plan, almost as if our entire sex life had been outlined and we had to stick to that outline or risk an unhappy ending. Maybe it was that routine in bed that had pushed Nate out the door? Even though I hadn’t been solely to blame for our dull, predictable sex life.

Jackson took my hesitation as a no. “Well, I’ll leave you alone then. Just thought you might be up for some fun.” He glanced pointedly down at my erotic sleepwear. “Shame to waste that patch of satin on a night alone though.” He turned to walk back to his room. The smooth, well-toned expanse of his broad back made my pulse race. I took a deep breath. “Jackson?”

He turned back to face me. A little shortness of breath accompanied my racing pulse. “The invitation still stands—if you’re interested.” “Interested?”

A

short

laugh

followed as he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Looking at you standing there in that sexy nightgown, Becca, gives interested a whole new meaning.”

He took hold of my arm and pulled me into his strong embrace. His mouth came down hard over mine. It was as if his kiss had lifted my feet from the floor and stopped time and motion. I hadn’t even felt myself move. I hadn’t heard the door shut behind us. By the time I’d gained my composure long enough to open my eyes and find out if I was dreaming or not, I was standing in Jackson’s arms inside the solitude of my

lushly furnished bedroom. Jackson’s mouth stayed pressed against mine as he lowered his arms and slid his hands between the panels of the nightie. He stopped long enough to gaze down at the skin he’d exposed. “Every inch of you is fucking priceless, Becca,” he muttered quietly. His words made me smile. “I’ve been called many things,” I sighed as his

hand smoothed over the skin of my stomach. “But never priceless.” Jackson lowered his head as his hands came up along my arms and slid the thin straps off my shoulders. The nearly transparent lace fell beneath my breasts. He pressed his mouth on the round swell. “Fucking priceless,” he muttered again.

My arms wrapped around his head as I held him against my breast. His tongue flicked against my nipple, teasing it to a hard, tight bud. I ran my hands down over his rock hard shoulders and back. The muscles in his body tensed and stretched as he kissed and caressed my skin. My pussy was aching to be touched, kissed and caressed as well, but he took his time, almost as if he

didn’t want to scare me off. A breath of disappointment ushered from my lips as he lifted his mouth away from me. His green eyes were enough to melt me into a puddle at his feet. But I held it together, even with the pulse between my legs nearly screaming out for him. “I meant what I said in the barn.” He reached up and dragged his callused thumb along my bottom lip. “These lips.” He dropped his gaze to my body.

“These curves. Mine for the weekend.” A shiver of excitement coursed through me as he spoke, confident, demanding and impossible to say no to. “Do you trust me enough to give yourself

to

me

for

a

weekend,

Rebecca?” “Trust you? Heck no.” His

face

disappointment.

smoothed

in

I reached up and curled my hands around his neck before he had a chance to pull away. “If I did, then this wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.” His mouth tilted slightly. “Is that a yes?” “You

have

forty-eight

hours,

cowboy, to make me believe that I’m truly priceless.” Jackson’s hands came up, and he

took hold of my face. “Easy as buttermilk pie.” His mouth pressed against mine.

CHAPTER 11 Not wanting to be completely reckless in a world where reality could easily come back to bite you in the butt, Jackson and I had the obligatory conversation about protection. I was on the pill, and after discovering that my

fiancé had been with someone else, I’d hastened myself to the doctor for a quick blood test. Jackson had recently donated blood. So we had those questions out of the way. He’d returned to his room to shower, something he’d been on his way to do before rescuing me from the hallway. I sat amongst the sea of pillows on the bed and flipped through a magazine that had been left on the nightstand, a

periodical completely devoted to raising chickens. I was nearly a chick rearing expert by the time Jackson knocked on the door. The sound of it made me tremble with nerves. I’d never done anything remotely close to this, and I wished that in the interim, rather than increase my knowledge about chickens, I’d gone downstairs for a glass of wine. Maybe two.

“Come in.” I sounded like a frightened child. Coco’s face poked inside, and I covered myself with the magazine. As if she’d read my mind, she walked in with a tray carrying a carafe half filled with red wine and a glass. “Coco, it’s as if I have my own personal fairy godmother this weekend. I was just thinking about a glass of wine.

It

will—it

will

help

me

sleep.

Sometimes I have a hard time getting a good night’s rest in a strange place.” I’d lost the frightened child tone, and now I was talking overly loud and fast, like anyone with a guilty conscience might speak. She lowered the tray onto my nightstand. A few of the phantom age lines appeared and then smoothed away. “Then I’m glad to grant you this wish.”

She winked as if there was far more to the quip than she was letting on. Magical or not, she always seemed to know what I was thinking. Coco looked pointedly at the magazine covering my nearly naked body. “I’ll let you get back to the chickens then.” She walked toward the door. “The section on chicken feed is very informative.” She closed the door behind her.

I kept my fingers crossed that she would not run into Jackson coming across the hallway. *** Turned out there was no worry of Coco running into Jackson. I’d gotten through chicken feeding and

even

memorized the characteristics of certain breeds. There was still no sign of Jackson. The half bottle of wine was

down to its last drops, and my excitement was too. Apparently, sleep had been far more alluring to Jackson than me in my skimpy baby doll. There was no way not to feel completely disappointed and embarrassed. I turned off the lamp, dropped the magazine on the nightstand and finished the drops of wine. Feeling sufficiently buzzed and humiliated, I burrowed down under the quilt and closed my eyes.

I hadn’t drifted into sleep as much as I’d floated into a wine filled cloud. My head was spinning, and some of the harsh edges of being stood up were dulling. In the midst of the warm cocoon of downy feathers and darkness, I felt fresh air brush over my forehead, the only part of me still above blankets. “You still in there, Spunky?” The deep voice zapped me from my wine haze. His big fingers pushed the top of

the quilt down so my eyes were visible. His hair had been washed and brushed back, and he’d put on a blue shirt and jeans. He cleaned up spectacularly. “Thought you got swallowed up by this big ole bed.” Without another word or response from me, and in one swift movement, he had me peeled from my quilted cave and in his arms. He kissed me lightly on the mouth

and then licked his bottom lip. “Hmm, wine. I like it. How much did you have?” I lifted my hand with about an inch of space between my thumb and forefinger. “With the way you’re struggling to keep those beautiful eyes open, I thought it had been more.” “Well, that’s how much I poured

into the glass each time.” “Each time?” “Well, not each time. The last bit was so small, I decided to just chug it from the bottle. Not one of my classier moments, but I didn’t want to waste any.” I looked at him with as much direct focus as I could muster. “I thought you weren’t coming.” “No chance of that, baby.” He

tossed me up a couple of inches to get a better grasp of me and headed to the door. “Where are you taking me in my state of undress?” Suddenly, the notion of my scanty attire shocked me closer to sobriety. I wriggled in his arms. “You’re not carrying me out of the room like this, are you?” “Uh, as I recall the last time I saw

you, you were standing in this in the hallway with a cookie dangling from those amazing lips.” “That was accidental exposure and you know it.” He sighed and lowered my feet to the ground. “Guess it will be too cold anyhow. Just a minute.” He lifted a finger at me. “Don’t move.” He left the room, and I wondered if my bout of self-

consciousness had spoiled the fun. He returned seconds later with a denim jacket. With a gentleman’s touch, he put the coat on me. I was swimming in it, and my hands disappeared at the ends of the sleeves. The bottom came mid-thigh. It was faded and soft and lined with flannel, flannel that had the distinct fragrance of the man himself. It was a leathery, grassy cowboy smell that made me feel homesick and, at the same time,

giddy with the thought of being with Jackson. “We’re going outside?” I asked as I pulled the coat tighter around me. “Should I get my shoes?” “You won’t need them.” He swept me back into his arms. “I could

get

used

to

being

transported around like this.” I curled against him and he carried me out of the

room and down the stairs as if I weighed no more than a pillow. We crossed the foyer to the front door. He managed to keep a secure hold on me as he moved his hand to turn the knob. The front door swung open. He stepped out onto the porch and pushed the door shut with his foot. I lifted my head, heavy with the wine and the man, and squinted out to the front driveway.

“A horse and carriage?” An oldfashioned horse drawn carriage, the open seat kind with a driver’s bench up front and cushioned back seat for passengers, was parked behind the draft horse I’d seen in the barn. “That’s what took me so long to come back for you. Riley, that Belgian cross you see in front of it, wasn’t completely cooperative when I went to harness him. It has been a while since he

pulled a carriage.” “I forgive you for the delay then.” I smiled up at him. “Even if I’m not exactly dressed for a carriage ride, thank you for this.” Stars flooded the navy blue sky above, and the summer night air was just warm enough to keep my bare feet from getting cold. Jackson carried me down the steps to the waiting carriage. For a

moment I allowed myself to imagine that I was back in time being carried off by my dream prince. Jackson lifted me up onto the driver’s bench and then circled around the horse and climbed up next to me. He glanced in my direction as he picked up the reins. “You might want to hang on to my arm. You’re looking a little unsteady from all that wine, Spunky.”

My hands were still lost in the sleeves of his coat, but I managed to wrap one around his arm. He clucked his tongue and flicked the reins, and the stout horse snorted in protest before picking up his heavy feet and plodding forward. We rolled across the front yard to the back of the inn and to the long trail where we’d ridden the horses earlier. Once moving, I couldn’t hold back a

giggle of excitement. The summer breeze carried every scent of nature and animal with it. It even seemed that some of the delicious aromas from Coco’s kitchen and bakery clung to the night air too. “I haven’t been on a carriage ride since my grandfather’s neighbor, Gracie, took us out on her annual Christmas sleigh ride.” I squeezed his arm tighter to keep from bouncing off the bench and to remind myself what great arms the

man had. And that reminder revived some of the earlier sensations I’d been feeling. The heavy coat had almost made me forget that I was basically naked under the denim and flannel. I still had enough of a wine buzz to reach down and brazenly slide the hem of the coat up to expose most of my thighs. The coat stopped just short of displaying my lacy thong panties to the world and to the gaze of my hunky

carriage driver. Jackson’s green eyes shifted down and a grin crossed his face. “Don’t tease. Push it all the way back, so I can see that lacy, little triangle and the sweet treat beneath it.” I glanced around at the surrounding landscape. Jackson laughed loud enough to spur Riley into a trot. “Are you expecting to see a dozen

pairs of glowing eyes watching as you push that coat up? I assure you, we are completely alone out here, just man, woman and grumpy draft horse.” He leaned his head toward mine. “Mine for the weekend, remember?” I blushed at his words, thinking how badly I wanted to give myself over to him. If I could just get rid of those pesky inhibitions. If I didn’t give in to this crazy desire now, I might lose

Jackson and my only chance at a fantasy weekend for good. Here I was in a carriage, under a starlit sky, with an incredible man, and I was over-thinking everything about it. Maybe that had been my problem all along. I pulled my arm from his and balanced myself as well as I could with the side to side motion of the carriage. I

took hold of the sides of the coat and slowly parted them, exposing myself completely to the fresh night air and Jackson’s heated gaze. “That works,” he said with a slight hitch in his throat. “We’re almost at our destination, and it can’t come soon enough.” It was a little cool, being mostly naked on the top of a driver’s bench,

rolling through the lush landscape. But heat surged through my belly and down to my pussy as I considered what my driver might have in mind. My mind drifted into a fictional world, as it often did with my career in television. I was in the middle of a sexy, gritty western riding through the Wild West with a very handsome coachman. Jackson must have caught my faraway look. “What’s the phrase?

Penny for your thoughts? Although if they don’t include me, I’m not sure I want to know.” “Oh,

they

include

you,

my

mysterious Wild West coachman who just picked me up in the middle of a deserted country road.” “In your unmentionables, no less,” he added to my narrative. “Yes, that’s because I ran out of the

house so fast to get away from my terrible husband, a man with a sour temper and a belly as big as a watermelon.” “And I, the Wild West coachman, am still a little drunk and horny from a night in the saloon where I lost my week’s pay at the poker table. And now I’m without enough coin to even bed a whore for the night.”

I looked up at him with a brow lift. “Jeez, men and their idea of romance.” I sighed. “You’re a hard-edged drifter who just never found the right woman to give his heart to. Until, well, you get the idea . . .” “Strangely enough, your scenario is pretty damn close to the truth.” There was a touch of loneliness in his tone that pressed on my chest like a firm hand. “Not that parts of my unromantic version

weren’t wedged in reality too. I’ve left more than one poker game drunk, horny and broke.” “Either way, I’m impressed with your story telling skills,” I said. “Nice imagination.” “Oh,

I’ve

got

all

kinds

of

imagination up in this head of mine. Especially when it comes to the distraught little lady sitting on the bench

next

to

me

in

her

pretty

little

unmentionables.” “See, and that brings me to the rest of the story. I’m in a complete state of despair. Nate, my wretched husband, has been an asshole once too often, and I find myself alone and unclothed and much in need of the right man’s considerate and loving attention. And that’s where you come in with your green eyes and Hollywood smile and,

conveniently enough, carriage with a rather plush backseat.” He handled the reins so well, I didn’t notice that he’d directed Riley to turn off the trail. “Where are we going?” He flicked the reins to spur Riley on. “We’re going to act out an extremely satisfying end to that story.”

CHAPTER 12 Jackson steered the horse and carriage toward a patch of land that was situated between a green hillside and a meandering river. He stopped on a parcel of grass that was walled off by trees and the hill, with the night sky as

our ceiling. It didn’t take much to bring Riley to a halt. Jackson tied off the reins and climbed down from the bench. He walked over to my side of the carriage. I turned toward him as he reached up and took hold of my waist. He kept me in his arms as he walked to the backseat of the carriage. Gently, he lowered me onto the

seat. The smooth leather felt cold against the bare skin of my legs as I scooted over to make room for my western romance lead. He climbed up onto the seat. The carriage shifted slightly as he sat his long frame down. Riley took a steadying step, but, thankfully, didn’t move farther than that. I pulled the coat closed, suddenly feeling more than vulnerable in the wide open. “A new ending just flashed through

my head, a catastrophic one where we’re back here in the heat of passion, and a deranged squirrel darts out from the trees, runs across Riley’s back and sends the horse galloping through the trees with us bouncing behind.” “I’d be worried about that too if I didn’t know Riley well, but I do. And that horse would rather stand still on hot coals than move his feet. Deranged squirrel or not, he’s solid where he

stands.” Jackson scooted to the side and leaned against the corner of the seat, with one long leg curled up on the seat and the other stretched out in front. Without thinking, my gaze went right to his crotch. He grinned as he caught where my eyes had landed. I quickly blamed it on the wine . . . and curiosity. In fact, if I was being totally honest with myself it was about ninety percent curiosity. I wondered if it was as

extraordinary as the rest of the man. I’d just ridden across a field with my sexy lingerie and half-clad body exposed to the world, but suddenly, a bout of shyness overcame me. I pulled the coat panels shut tightly. Jackson rested his arm casually up on the back edge of the carriage. “The way I see it, you can lose that coat now, while it’s still dark outside, or we can

sit here until daylight. But I’ve got to warn you, my patience ain’t great when I see something I really want. And you, my half naked angel, are something I want bad.” He rested back to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that he was waiting. I licked the tip of my finger and put it in the air as if to check the wind direction. “It’s a little cold suddenly. Must be a breeze coming down off that

hillside.” “I’ll keep you plenty warm.” His arm was still draped casually along the back of the carriage as if he had no intention of heading back up to the driver’s bench any time soon. “All right.” I sat up with a long, slow breath. I pushed the coat off my shoulders, and it slid down my arms. I pulled my hands free from the oversized

sleeves. Before I could curl my arms around myself, Jackson sat forward and took hold of my hands. He lifted them to direct me to kneel up on the seat. It took some effort with him holding my hands, but I managed to balance myself up on the leather seat cushion. A shiver went through me, a result of the cool night air and the heated green gaze that was now surveying every inch of me.

“Well?” I asked, sounding slightly shaky. “Do I fit the part?” He released my hands and scooted closer. I rested my hand on the back edge of the seat and wrapped my other arm around him as he reached up and parted the panels of my nightie. His mouth dragged hot kisses along my stomach. While one hand wrapped firmly around my bottom, the other teased my nipples.

I found it hard to balance. The delirium produced by the wine had dissipated and been replaced by an entirely new

state

of intoxication.

Jackson’s mouth left a trail of blazing heat along my skin as he made a slow, erotic path to the small triangle of silk covering my pussy. It took no more than a long lick of his tongue to push the fabric aside, leaving no barrier between the wet, slick folds of my pussy and his

mouth. “Lean back, baby, I need to taste more of you,” he drawled. I held him for support, every muscle in my body trembling with anticipation as I sat back down on the seat. “Relax. Mine for the weekend, remember?” His eyes were like green gemstones, richer in color from desire, a

desire for me. That thought made every inch of my skin erupt with gooseflesh. I couldn’t

remember

ever

wanting

someone this badly. The unusual location and striking fact that we were in the back of a horse drawn carriage, no longer mattered. I wanted Jackson to finish what he’d started. I needed his mouth, his cock. I needed all of him, or I would fall apart from wanting him.

I rested back against the side of the seat. Jackson lifted my feet up onto the smooth leather cushion. “Reach back, baby. Reach back and take hold of the seat.” He’d switched to calling me baby. Nate had done it more than once, and I’d chided him for it. It had made me bristle. But coming from Jackson, in the heat of passion, it sounded like the best form of dirty talk I’d ever heard. Right then and

there, in the open carriage, I wanted to be his, to be his baby to do with as he pleased. As I lifted my arms, the silky shift inched up, exposing me from the belly button down. The only thing between my pussy and his hungry stare was a tiny triangle of silk. I let my arms rest on the back of the seat above my head, but as he pushed open my thighs wide enough to expose me completely, I clutched the

edge of the seat to hold myself together. He watched my face, his long black lashes fluttering over his green eyes as he pulled the silk thong aside. He slid his finger through the creamy wetness that was pooling between the folds of my pussy. I pulled in a shuddering breath and tightened my hold on the top edge of the seat.

He dropped down to his stomach and brought his head between my thighs. His warm breath tickled my pussy and inner thighs. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned as he moved his mouth so close to my pussy, I could feel the lightest scrape of his beard stubble. I nearly startled off the seat as he used his fingers to spread me open wider. A low, deep chuckle rumbled between my thighs. “Relax, baby. It’ll be

that much more fun.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt near to naked and completely exposed.

But

Jackson

made

me

comfortable. I wanted him there between my thighs. I needed him there. His tongue started slowly, with a teasing flick across my clit, a small intimate touch that made me tighten my grip even more. His big hand cupped beneath my

ass as he lifted me to his hungry mouth. His tongue coaxed me to arch my back so that my pussy would be tighter against his mouth. He growled in approval against my tender flesh. One hand held me securely in place as the other teased my throbbing clit to a frenzy. And all the while, his tongue made love to my pussy as if I was producing a sweet nectar for him to taste. I scooted my feet closer to my

bottom, wanting to move even higher and harder against his mouth. Every inch of me trembled with desire. I needed to finish this, to come in a glorious, mind blowing orgasm or the disappointment would be devastating. I released my hold on the seat and curled my fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him against me. “Yes, Jackson, please.” My tender plea floated up and disappeared in the field of stars above.

One final stroke of his finger over my clit and my thighs clamped shut as my pussy convulsed in hot waves around his tongue. I rocked against him, nearly close to tears with the sheer intensity of it all. Jackson rose up over me. He reached down with one hand and had his pants open and pushed down to reveal his cock, a massive erection that took away the breath I’d been trying to catch.

Jackson gazed down at me with an expression that was half questioning and half lust. “Yes.” I knew what he wanted to hear. “Yes, Jackson. I want this.” He took hold of my legs and scooted me down farther on the seat. He leaned down over me. The heat radiating from his body warmed me in the cool night air. He lowered his mouth to mine

and with the same hand that had held me steady against his mouth, he lifted my pussy to meet him. His self-control now shattered, he pushed into me hard and fast, producing that sweet pussy ache that came after an orgasm. I’d never climaxed twice in a row, but something about this man made me think it wasn’t impossible. And it seemed he expected it. He

rose up on his strong arms and thrust into me, lifting his hips each time so that his cock penetrated the deepest, most untouched place inside of me. With each movement, the friction against my still aching clit sent tingling sensations through me. “Hold me tight with your pussy, baby,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “I want to feel you holding my cock as I slide into you.”

I concentrated on the muscles between my legs and my pussy as I contracted them, squeezing them around his erection as he dove deep inside of me, seemingly knowing my most intimate places even more than me. His long lashes drifted shut. “That’s it, Becca. I can feel you as if you’re stroking me with your tight pussy. So fucking beautiful.”

I reached for the edge of the seat, something to hold onto, something to keep me from floating right up into the night sky. I held him securely between my legs, feeling each hot inch of him as he rocked against me, filling me completely. Then that tiny trickle of sensation, those first few seconds of reaching the front edge of climax caused me to grip him even harder with my pussy.

He sensed what was happening and kept the rhythm. “That’s it, baby. Come for me and take me with you.” My soft cry circled the carriage, and I hardly knew it had come from my own lips. My body shuddered beneath him. As I came in shattering waves, he increased the speed and intensity of his movements. Each time, it nearly started the orgasm afresh, nearly bringing me over the edge into a seemingly endless

climax. The muscles in his arms tightened, and he rammed his cock deep inside of me one last time. “Fuck yeah,” he growled as he came. He stayed there, buried deep inside of me for a few minutes, while our breathing and heart rates returned to normal. The light wind ruffled his thick hair, making him look nothing short of

glorious, as he gazed down at me. The night sky was navy blue with white diamonds and nature’s nighttime music vibrated around us. It was almost impossible to believe that this was happening. “I’ve never done anything quite like this before,” I said quietly. “Well, Spunky, that’s cuz you were waiting for me.” He lowered himself

down and kissed me.

CHAPTER 13 My

extremely

accommodating

coachman drove me back to the house and carried me back up the stairs, depositing me reluctantly at my bedroom door. “I need to take Riley and the

carriage back.” He kissed me again. “If you need anything, or if the creaks and noises in this old house make you uneasy, I’ll be right there across the hallway in my big, comfortable bed. Where there’s plenty of space for a sleep buddy.” His boots clacked the wood floor as he walked back down the hallway and stairs. I could still hear them in the entryway as he walked out the front

door. I smiled to myself. A girl sure could get used to the sound of boot heels in the house. The wine, the late hour, the abundance of fresh air and the incredible sex had pushed me easily into a deep sleep where visions of a certain hot cowboy danced in my head. But a harsh sound, a noise that mimicked sharp nails on glass, woke me from my dreams.

I sat up, reeling for a moment, trying to remember exactly where I was. As the darkness turned to the silhouettes of Coco’s antique furniture, my mind cleared enough to remind me that I was at the Silk Stocking Inn. The unsettling sound startled me again. It was followed by a ghostly howl that seemed to circle the entire house. I put my feet on the cold floor and plodded over to the window. With some

trepidation, I pushed back the heavy drapes. Trees were curled over as if invisible strings had been tied to their tips and were being pulled at the same time. Another rushing sound followed that pushed against the house, making it groan loudly in protest. Long, thin fingers clawed at my window, and I stumbled back with a gasp. The howling sound quieted and the clawing

fingers

morphed

into

the

branches of the tree growing outside the window. It was a wind storm. I headed back to the bed, my heart still racing from the earlier scare. It was strange how quickly the wind had kicked up. Just hours earlier, Jackson and I had been rolling through a completely quiet, calm landscape that had been disrupted only by the occasional breeze. But now gusts of wind that could upturn trees, if given the opportunity, blew in gale force

around the inn. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was four in the morning. Late by even the most ardent barhopper’s standards. There was no doubt my neighbor across the hall was fast asleep in his big bed. I leaned back against the pillows, pulled the quilt up tight beneath my chin and tried to imagine how breathtaking Jackson must look sleeping. Naked, most likely.

I took a deep, calming breath. My head grew heavy with sleep again. Another gust of wind and the horrid scratching at the window snapped me back to fully awake. This time it was not just a burst of wind but a long, stretched-out onslaught of violent air. The windows rattled. I could almost hear the roof shingles being peeled away from the top of the century old house.

I held tightly to the blanket, bracing for whatever might come next. A loud, crashing sound outside was followed by something hard hitting the house. I hopped back out of bed and ran into the hallway. I smacked right into a hard, naked chest. In fact, the entire man was naked, and a welcome sight, in the middle of my frenzy. “Thought I heard the patter of your

little feet.” Jackson reached up and tucked the hair that had fallen across my face behind my ear. “It’s just wind.” “No. Wind pushes the trees around a little, dislodges some leaves from their branches. Whatever’s going on out there —it’s picking up large objects and throwing them at the house.” “I did hear something smack the far wall.” He grinned appreciatively at the

nightie again as if he hadn’t already seen it. “It seems that once again I’ve happened upon my distraught heroine. Only this time she’s fleeing dangerous weather instead of a rotten husband.” He took hold of my hand. “There’s only one thing to do.” I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat. “What’s that?” I squeaked. “I need to take you into my

bedroom and comfort you the best way I know how.” “Comfort me?” “Well, comfort might be the wrong word.” He leaned down, and as he kissed

me,

another

violent

wind

whipped around the house. “But I guarantee it will take your mind off that wind.” Without waiting for a response, he

led me into his room. The room on the opposite side had less floral prints and an altogether more masculine interior, right up to the massive four post bed standing in the center of the room. Something about seeing the sheets and blankets in a disarray, knowing that Jackson’s naked body had just, moments before, been lying in the center of it all, sent a stream of heat through me. My pussy, still tender from the tryst in the

carriage, throbbed with an urge to be the center of attention again. The shadows of the room came alive when Jackson walked over and turned the nightstand lamp on one notch. It cast the perfect amount of glow over the room, a yellow stream of light that made the whole room look as if it was on the movie set of some nineteenth century romance.

The only thing that didn’t look as if it belonged in a past century was the completely heartbreaking man standing in front of the antique bed. His lean, well-muscled body looked positively incredible in the dimly lit room. As my eyes dropped, I took in, for the first time, the true length and size of his erection. It had seemed nearly impossible when he’d made love to me in the carriage, filling me to capacity in a way I’d never

experienced before. But seeing it now, assured me it had not been my imagination. Jackson was head to toe magnificent, and best of all, he was every bit man and every bit cowboy. I hadn’t realized how much I’d hankered for a perfectly hot cowboy until now. Apparently, Jackson noticed me ogling him. He grinned and held out his arms. “See anything that interests ya’?” He looked pointedly down at his rock

solid cock. “I guess my interest is more than obvious.” “You are a picture, that’s for damn sure. Although—” I sashayed over to his dresser. The storm outside no longer concerned me. I felt safe, secure and once again flirty with Jackson. I picked up his hat and carried it over to him. “I think this will just add the cherry on top.”

He lifted the black hat and pushed it down low over his head. I’d teased him about it once, but his brilliant white smile really did remind me of a Hollywood caliber smile. I could easily imagine him on the set of some edgy western with badass men on cool horses chasing after money, bad guys and fast women. And if that made me a fast woman, then so be it. “See, now that I’m wearing my hat,

my confidence level has just shot up ten points. And I aim to do as I please.” “Since confidence was never an issue with you—” “We’re

done

talking,

Spunky.

Night’s nearly over, and I want to finish it with you in my arms . . . preferably naked.” He took hold of the ends of my nightgown. With one fluid move, he had it up and off my head. He pushed the

thong down next. Before I could feel self-conscious enough to bring my hands up and across my breasts, he swept me up into his arms. His hat stayed low, shading his green eyes as he carried me to the bed. He plopped me down on the mattress and flicked his hat off before climbing in next to me. I stretched back on the

pillows. He rolled toward me with a gleam in his eyes. “What’s that phrase?” He took hold of my waist and swung me over to straddle him. “Think it’s Cowgirl Up.” I pressed my hands against his chest. “Think that pertains to climbing up on a horse.” He reached up to caress my

breasts. “I can give you a much better ride than any ole’ horse.” “Yeah? Let’s see.” I leaned down to kiss him and scooted my body back so that his cock pressed urgently against my pussy. Jackson’s hands reached down and took a firm hold of my ass. “Slide that pussy down over me, baby,” he growled against my mouth. “I want to feel it

swallow me, hold me, milk me.” I lifted my face and tilted a grin at him. “A girl could really get used to that cowboy style dirty talk.” “Then, come on, baby, and put me out of my misery. I want you so bad, I’m ready to come just looking at you.” He held my ass firmly in his hands, spreading me wide as I maneuvered my body against his erection. Slowly, I

eased down over him, closing my eyes to revel in every glorious, slick inch of him as he filled my pussy. I rested back for a moment to feel the entire length of him inside me, pushing my hands against his chest to brace myself, even as his hands tugged at my ass. I leaned forward and reached up above his head, hanging my breasts over his face as I grabbed hold of the mahogany headboard.

“I fucking love your nipples, baby.” He lifted his head temporarily to attend to each nipple with a tease of his tongue. I slid my body over him, my pussy gloving his cock again and again. His fingers pressed deeper against the crack of my ass, penetrating my anus as I pushed against the pressure of his hands. He held me tightly, stretching my pussy back so my clit could rub firmly against

the base of his cock. I shut my eyes and curled my fingers

against

him

like

fists,

concentrating solely on the intimate connection between us. He impaled my ass with his finger as I stroked his cock with my pussy. My thighs squeezed tightly against his hips, holding him as if I’d never let him go. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I moved my hips. His hands worked with me, to keep me solid over him. Our bodies moved in perfect rhythm as he lifted his hips to meet me every time I ground down over him. “Oh,

Jackson,

my

head

is

spinning,” I sighed. He held me firmly over him, and I pushed down hard as his cock pushed deep. My body trembled and my pussy

tightened around him, clinging to him to feel every sensation as I climaxed. I had a hard time keeping my arms steady as I braced against him. He moved faster and harder. His hands took hold of my waist, and he lifted me off of him. “Baby, I want to take you on your hands and knees. Please.” I rose up on my hands and knees. The entire mattress shifted with his

weight as he circled behind me. I had no time to catch my breath or gain composure before he took firm hold of my hips and thrust his cock inside of me, the new angle letting him reach new, deep pockets of pleasure. He moved with a fury that made the bed creak and the headboard beat a rhythm against the wall. I worried what Coco might be thinking but then she was the one to leave me the extremely sexy

lingerie. I had a wild thought that she had set this all up. I gripped the sheets as a sweet ache, that delectable pain that came from a lot of sex, filled my body. “Damn, baby, you are fucking beautiful on your hands and knees.” Jackson’s deep voice rolled over my bare back and sent a shiver of delight through me.

His hands tightened and he pushed in hard, grunting in ecstasy as his body stiffened and he came. He stayed there for a moment and leaned down to kiss the hollow between my shoulder blades. “I mean it, Rebecca, fucking beautiful.” Hearing him say my real name sent another frisson of pleasure through me. The way he said it made me feel important, as if I mattered to him.

I closed my eyes and pushed the notion from my mind. I couldn’t allow myself to get attached to Jackson. He’d be gone with the end of the weekend. A man like him wouldn’t have any interest past the fun we were having. We collapsed down onto the mattress in the spoon position. Jackson wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to his warm body. The lamp still glowed, but the heavy draw of sleep

lowered my lids and blocked the light. In the security of Jackson’s strong arms, I fell asleep.

CHAPTER 14 Not wanting to expose the morning version of myself, particularly after a long night of wine and activity, to my new hunky friend, I climbed out of his bed at the crack of dawn. It had been one of the hardest things I’d done in a long

time, leaving the warmth and protection of his body to traipse across a dark hallway and fall into a bed where the sheets were cold from being empty. I would have slept well into the morning, but a knock on my door woke me. I quickly fussed with my hair, as if raking my fingers through my pillowmussed mop could make any significant improvement.

Fortunately, Coco’s soft voice followed the knock. I relaxed and pulled the quilt to cover up the sexy nightie that she had left for me. “Come in.” Coco entered with a breakfast tray. Her shoulders seemed to straighten more as she stepped farther into the room and the spring in her step became . . . well, springier. Her age was so hard to gauge,

I’d stopped trying to guess it. My mouth watered at the fragrance streaming in with the tray. “Would you like some French toast with

maple

whipped

cream

and

berries?” she asked as she carried the tray toward the bed. “I doubt there is any person on this planet who would say no to that question.”

She chuckled as she lowered the tray over my lap. A mound of caramel colored whipped cream had begun its slow melting descent over a stack of thick golden pieces of French toast. Blue and red berries swam happily in the creamy concoction. I breathed in deeply as the steamy scent of maple swirled around the plate. “This would explain why my last dream involved me standing in a

forest of maple trees with a fork.” “People have told me that they dream about my food,” she quipped. “I figured you’d be hungry after the long night.” My eyes popped open wide as a warm blush crept up my cheeks. “I mean with that noisy wind and all,” she added hastily, but I was still sure there was more behind her comment

than the inclement weather. “Jackson told me you two were taking a trail ride today.” She stood and smiled proudly down at her luscious breakfast food. “Isn’t it wonderful when things work out just the way you planned.” Again, I stared up at her with wide eyes. “The

breakfast,

of

course.

Everything turned out just as I planned.

Enjoy.” With that, she winked and left the room. Coco popped her head back in just as I took the first magical bite. “Jackson told me that you should walk down to the barn as soon as you’re ready.” She shut the door. I spent the next twenty minutes losing myself in the bliss of Coco’s French toast.

CHAPTER 15 Coco,

the

world’s

greatest

innkeeper, provided me with a fresh shirt and a straw cowboy hat for the trail ride. The shirt, which was actually a sleeveless

blouse

made

of

blue

seersucker wasn’t something I would

have picked for myself and yet, it looked great. Or at least that was what the bedroom mirror had told me. It had been the first time since Nate had broken off with me that I hadn’t stared into a mirror trying to decide what I needed to improve upon. I’d come up with a long list of things, but today, as I stared back at the reflection with cheeks pink from a night with Jackson, I decided all of me was just fine.

I was feeling sufficiently nervous to see the man I’d just spent an extremely sensual night with as I trekked the path to the barn. I’d spent the morning reminding myself that this was just for a weekend and not to expect any more than that. Jackson had made it clear that he wanted me, all of me, this weekend. His mention of the time limit had not passed by me. It was man code for—after that we go our separate ways.

That thought saddened me some. We seemed to go together well . . . in every aspect. But the last thing I needed was to have my heart stomped on again, and something told me it would hurt even worse if it were Jackson’s cowboy boots doing the stomping. Archie, my mount from the night before, was standing outside of the barn, saddled and ready. Jackson walked out with his horse, a gray dapple gelding

who looked full of spirit this morning. I used the horse as a way to avoid any awkward first moments. I shoved my hands in my back pockets, making sure to present my breasts nicely in the seersucker blouse, as I walked toward him. “You never told me your horse’s name,” I called. “It’s Rebel. He came with the

name, but it fits.” Jackson stopped and shifted his black hat back to get a better view of me. I added a little extra sway to my hips. Once again, I easily fell into flirt mode with Jackson. There was just something about him. Could have been the green eyes, or the Hollywood smile, or the great shoulders . . . My mental catalogue was too long to list.

“So, Spunky, you ready for a real ride?” I stopped and patted Archie’s neck. “My thighs might be a little shaky after last night’s ride.” I tamped down a wicked smile. “Or rides, to be more exact. But I think I’m up to it.” He walked up in front of me and tapped the brim of my hat. “Looks just right on you. But there’s one big problem

with cowboy hats.” I peered up at him from beneath the shade of the brim. “Can’t get in a proper good morning kiss?” “Exactly.” I swept off my hat, and he plucked his up with one hand. His other hand curled around the back of my head as he leaned forward to kiss me. The moment his mouth pressed against mine, my mind

splintered in all kinds of directions, none of them wholesome. He pressed his hat back on his head. “Guess we should head out before it gets too hot.” We climbed up onto the saddles and led the horses toward the same trail he’d driven the carriage along. A brilliant blue sky stretched on endlessly in front of us and the lush surrounding

landscape twittered with the occasional breeze or wild creature. Archie’s slow, lazy walk made us fall behind quickly. I pressed my calves against his sides, but he seemed immune to my cues. Jackson slowed Rebel down to fall back with us. “You never did say how you ended up on a ranch in your teens. Did your dad have a midlife urge to raise cattle?”

I stared out at the scenery. Even after so many years, it was still painfully hard to talk about my parents. My throat did its usual tightening, and I blinked away the burning in my eyes. “Sorry. Seems like I brought up a bad memory.” Jackson had only just met me, yet he was more in tune with my thoughts and feelings than the man I’d spent six years of my life with.

“That’s all right. You couldn’t know.” I smiled weakly at him. “But thank you for noticing. My parents died in a car accident when I was ten. I was at school when it happened. My uncle and the principal walked into the classroom, and—” I swallowed, but it was hard. “I’ll never forget my uncle’s face. I knew then that something really bad had happened. I just didn’t know how bad until he got me home and sat me

down. I remember looking around the house, wondering where my parents were, and that’s when it occurred to me that the bad news was about them.” I hauled in a steadying breath. “I wasn’t a bad kid, the opposite, in fact. I was quiet, a good student, lots of hobbies, but my relatives just didn’t have space in their lives for me. My grandpa, a man who I only saw every other Christmas, insisted I come live with him on his

cattle ranch. My dad had never gotten along well with his dad. They were extremely different. My dad was this mild mannered, bookish man who liked to spend time theorizing about the world. My grandpa was a doer. He didn’t think you lived a true life unless you came home every night with calluses on your palms and dirt crusted on your boots. I loved living on the ranch. He got sick just after I left for college and died a

few years later. The ranch was in debt by the time he passed, so my uncles sold it off to pay creditors. I really miss that place . . . and him.” “I’ll bet.” He reined his horse to the right side of a fork we’d come to. Archie followed without much effort on my part. “In the bakery, Coco mentioned you’re a television producer.”

“I produce a children’s show. It involves people and puppets. If I had to choose between the two as the best work partners, I’d choose the puppets every time. They’re far less whiny and needy.” “Sounds about right,” he said with a deep laugh, a sound that I was quickly growing used to. He peered over at me, his green eyes shiny under the shade of his hat. “I could see you hustling around a television set telling people what to do

and keeping all the chaos under control. It suits you, a big shot job like that.” “Big shot?” I said, sounding slightly insulted. But the more I thought about it, I liked it. “I’ll take it. I’ve been called a lot worse. Behind my back, of course. But my crew can be overly sensitive about stuff.” “Well then, big shot, you ready to kick that horse into a lope? He picks up

his feet a lot better when he has to move fast.” I patted Archie’s neck. “I’m ready if he is.” I moved to press my leg against Archie’s side, but as soon as Rebel took off, Archie was right behind. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. It had been a long time since I’d loped a horse, or even ridden one, for that matter. I realized

how much I’d missed it. Nate had never been a horse person or even a pet person. What the hell had I seen in the man? A breeze nearly took off with my straw hat. I reached up with my free hand and pushed it back down on my head. Then I rested back on my pockets, something

Grandpa

had

always

reminded me to do in a lope. I allowed myself the pleasure of watching the

extremely handsome cowboy riding his horse in front of me. Jackson was one of those men who rode a horse as if he’d been born right there in the saddle. He made it look effortless. His cues were so subtle, it was as if the horse was merely reading his mind. Jackson held his hat as he glanced back at me over his shoulder. I could see his gleaming white teeth beneath the shadow of his hat. He turned back

around and led Rebel off the trail and slowed him to a trot. Archie followed without me asking him. He was on auto pilot, and the main pilot was Rebel. I trotted up next to Jackson. We slowed the horses to a walk. “I don’t even have to steer this horse. He’d follow Rebel straight off a cliff without a second thought.” “Yeah, Archie prefers not to have

to put much thought into things.” “I suppose Rebel must be top horse in the barn. Especially if you don’t have any stallions.” “Yep, but there are a few mares that are quick to put Rebel in his place out in the pasture.” The temperature had dropped as we headed toward a copse of lush evergreen trees. The sweet, musky scent

of running water filled the air. I took a deep whiff. “Is that water I smell?” “You’ve got a good nose.” He didn’t say any more. The path thinned down so that we had to ride single file. Archie just about glued his head to Rebel’s butt as we walked through the trees. A crow hopped down from a branch, startling Rebel, and Archie, who felt the need to mimic everything his leader

did,

jumped

a

good

foot

sideways. I slid to the side of the saddle but managed to right myself easily. “You all right back there?” Jackson asked. “I’m still in the saddle, so yep, I’m good.” Sunlight clawed its way back as the heavy foliage thinned to a light canopy of pine branches. We stepped into a clearing that seemed to have

popped right out of a travel postcard. I sat back, which immediately cued my well-broke horse to stop. “Is that a waterfall?” I glanced around at the idyllic setting. “I’d ask how this place is possible just miles from the concrete jungle I live and work in, but nothing about this weekend seems real.” “Far as I know, this river and the pitch in the rocks creating the waterfall

and pool beneath it have been here for a long time.” I pointed at him. “Far as you know, but with the magical way Coco cooks and bakes and finds perfect clothes and seems to know everything I’m thinking, I’m not ruling out that she did this.” I waved my arm around the piece of paradise we’d found. Jackson climbed off his horse. “I’ll

admit that Coco has some extraordinary gifts, but I doubt we can credit her with hundred year old trees and a majestic waterfall.” I raised a brow to show him I disagreed. “All right, so maybe it isn’t beyond her powers.” “Then we’re in agreement,” I said satisfied. I climbed down off of Archie.

Jackson unwound a lead rope and halter that he had attached to his saddle. “Archie’s halter is on your saddle too. We can tie them off under these trees. Archie would probably be safe tied up by his reins, but all it would take is one fast moving squirrel or a big bee and Rebel would yank out all his teeth with one move.” I pulled the halter and lead rope off the saddle and exchanged Archie’s

bridle for his halter. We tied the horses loosely where they could entertain themselves on small tufts of green grass growing beneath the trees. Jackson took my hand. It had been a long time since a man had taken hold of my hand, and it dawned on me that I’d missed it. He led me to the edge of the pool, a swirl of deep green water that had formed where the waterfall ended and the river began.

We sat down on the mossy bank. I picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. The surface of the pond was smooth enough, even with being so close to the foam of the waterfall, that a group of concentric circles formed in the spot that the stone had landed. The rock disappeared quickly below the surface. “That water looks cold.” “It is. But on a hot day like this,

it’s a nice place for a dip. If you’re feeling spunky, that is.” “Spunky is my middle name, buddy. But, freezing my butt off has nothing to do with spunk and everything to do with my jeans fitting right.” His deep laugh made both horses lift their heads before returning to their late morning nibble. Jackson leaned forward to take off his boots. “Suit

yourself, but I’m going in.” “But we have no bathing suits.” He dropped his boots next to him and stood up. He grinned down at me as he reached down to the hem of his shirt. “Little late to worry about me seeing you naked, don’t ya think?” His shirt came off, revealing the incredible physique beneath. The vision of Jackson standing shirtless in front of

me, prompted me to pull off my boots. “You’re sure we’re alone, right?” “Not gonna guarantee that. Right now, I only know about Archie and Rebel, and they’re far more interested in that grass than a couple of naked humans.” Jackson took hold of the button on his jeans. “Come on in. Could be fun.” The way he said the last three words got me to my feet.

“Maybe I should leave on my bra and panties.” I unbuttoned the blouse. “Then you’ll have to ride back with wet underwear. Besides, chances are I’m going to be taking them both off —one way or another.” He pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs for proof that I’d more than likely be relieved of my underwear, and soon. His erection seemed to glisten in the thin ribbons of sunlight streaming through the patchy

foliage. In fact, it was more of a sparkle than a glisten. I’d

stripped

down

to

my

underwear and placed my hands on my bare hips to survey the incredible guy in front of me. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but you look even more appealing out in the middle of nature.” “Funny, I was thinking the same damn thing.” He stepped toward me,

wrapped an arm around me and hauled me against his rock solid, naked body. The slick, fleshy tip of his cock pushed seductively at my panties. “Lose those lacy little drawers, woman. I need to feel all of you.” I reached back to the clasp on my bra as he impatiently pushed my panties down to my ankles. “First I’m naked in a carriage, and now I’m standing naked in

the middle of”—I glanced around —“wherever the heck this place is. Two things I’ve never done before, and I’ve done them both in the span of a day.” “Ever been fucked beneath a waterfall?” Jackson asked as he reached up to tug at my erect nipple. “No, I have not.” He took hold of my hand. “Then, baby, you’re about to add number three

to your list.”

CHAPTER 16 The bank around the pond was soft and muddy. I trudged willingly behind Jackson, from the need to get out from the wide open and be at least clothed by the water and from the need to, as he’d suggested,

be

‘fucked

beneath

a

waterfall’. “Jeezus,” I shrieked as my feet first hit the water. I pulled free from his hand. He continued to wade into the pool several feet before turning around and sitting back easily into the icy water. He coasted toward the center. “It’s better if you go in fast, like yanking a bandage off.” “I disagree.” I stood calf deep and

scooped up handfuls of the frigid water to pour over my dry skin. “This is what I do to get in a swimming pool, even a heated one. It takes patience to do it without giving yourself a heart attack. That’s my advice, and I’m sticking to it.” “That’s fine. I’m having a helluva a good time just watching you pour handfuls

of water

on that curvy,

delicious body of yours. In fact, if I have to watch it for too long, I might have to

swim over to that waterfall and finish all by myself. Unless you get brave enough to jump in . . . Spunky.” “Fine. I feel like the forest creatures are all staring at me anyhow. Squirrels are probably having a good laugh.” “They’ll definitely have a good story to tell their relatives.” “One, two, three.” I sucked in a

breath, as if somehow that would make the water less glacial, and I pushed forward. “Holy shit, that is so cold I can no longer feel my limbs.” It was hard swimming while still trying to catch my breath. I pulled my arms through the water and pushed like a frog with my legs but wasn’t making much progress. “What do they call that style of swim stroke?” he asked with that ridiculously white smile.

“Don’t know but my mom’s Aunt Nancy used to swim like this when she didn’t want to get her hair wet. I want to avoid brain freeze and keep my head above the surface. Which brings me to the

previously

mentioned

waterfall

event. I’m too numb. Hot, naked cowboy or not, I’m just not feeling it.” He stretched his arms out and headed toward the falls. “Follow me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

It took some effort with my body functions slowing to a crawl to keep from freezing to death, but I managed to swim behind him. The waterfall itself was small in the general scheme of waterfalls, but it kicked up a respectable amount of spray and bubbles. The roar of the water made it hard to hear anything. Jackson reached the rock ledge before me and hoisted himself out of the

water. Sleek and wet, sitting in front of a majestic outcropping of black rocks, he looked like an erotic daydream. Only he wasn’t a daydream. He was real. My already labored breathing took another hit, and I gulped in some of the moistureladen air floating over the surface of the pond. I tread water beneath where he sat and stared up at him. I had a stunning view of everything. “I don’t think I can

pull myself out, especially because I can’t feel my hands or feet or anything in between.” Jackson reached forward, took hold of my arms and plucked me from the icy water. I sat down next to him on the rocks to catch my breath. “You know the water’s cold when the outside air feels like a cozy blanket.”

He stood up and offered me his hand. “Do you have your land legs back yet? I want to show you something.” I put my hand in his and he helped me to my feet. The surface of the rock was slick and smooth from the constant flow of water, but there was enough flat area to walk along the ridge. My skin was covered with gooseflesh, and my teeth chattered

as

my core

body

temperature tried to catch up to the rest

of me. Jackson glanced back over his shoulder at me and stopped. “You’re freezing. This was a bad idea.” He pulled me against his body and began rubbing my back and shoulders with his hands. “Can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but let’s swim back to the horses so you can get dressed.” My face was cradled against his

incredible pecs, and I didn’t feel like leaving the warmth of his body. My voice was muffled by his chest and the thunder of the waterfall. “We’re this far. I don’t want to turn back yet.” He rubbed me a few minutes longer. I actually grew drowsy pressed into his comforting heat, especially with the feel of his hands moving over me to generate hot friction.

When he stopped, I groaned quietly in disappointment. He lifted my chin to look at him. Wet and dreamy, they were the first words to float into my sleepy head. They were followed by, pinch me, someone. “Are you ready? Or should we turn back?” “Hey,” I said weakly, “you’re talking to Spunky, remember? Besides, if

you promise to hold me and rub me like that again, once we reach the bank, then I’ll follow you right onto a damn glacier.” “I promise.” He took my hand again. We traveled closer

to the

waterfall. The cold misty spray grew stronger and louder as we neared it. Jackson turned into a recess in the rock. It was deep and tall enough to

walk into. One half of the opening was curtained by the cascading water as it shot out over the rocks and down to the pool below. I

looked

around.

We

were

surrounded by smooth, slate-colored rock. The view out toward the water was incredible. “We’re standing in a cave . . . behind a waterfall.” I gazed out in awe. “It’s amazing.”

He pulled me into his arms again. “Worth freezing your cute butt off?” “Absolutely. Thank you, Jackson.” I peered up at him. “I won’t ask how you know about this extremely secret and super sexy hiding spot in the rocks.” “You can ask. I just happened to take a swim in the pond one day, and I decided to explore. I found this spot and thought, hell, if I ever find a hot woman

with a lot of spunk then I’m going to bring her here and kiss her.” He lowered his mouth to mine. His kiss was all the warmth I needed to stop shivering. I curled my arms around his neck and clung to him, our naked bodies providing plenty of heat. His hands swept over me as his cock pushed urgently against my belly.

I’d been nearly blue with cold just moments earlier, but the flush of arousal warmed me as if we were standing inside a warm room, rather than a rocky hollow behind a waterfall. I reached between our bodies and wrapped my hand around his erection. He groaned against my mouth and rocked his hips to move his cock in my hand. His kiss deepened as I stroked him from base to tip, urging hot sticky liquid from

his erection. “Hell, Becca, I can’t get enough of you. Wish there was a damn bed in this crevice.” A short laugh pushed my lips from his, but I instantly pressed them back where they belonged, tight against his mouth. His hands continued to rub heat into my body as I brought him near to climax with my hand, each stroke

moving faster and harder. His low, sensual groan echoed off the rock wall. “I’ve got to have you, baby.” He reached down and took hold of my wrist in a silent request to release him. I uncurled my fingers, and he took a deep, steadying breath. Even in the shadow of the rocks, his eyes glowed with raw, erotic hunger. It sent a shiver

through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature. He made what seemed to be a quick assessment of our surroundings, slick

and

sometimes

craggy

rock

surfaces that were neither cozy nor inviting. Yet, I was completely aroused. I wanted it just as badly as Jackson. He took hold of both my wrists, gently kissed my knuckles on each hand

and then turned me around to face the rock wall. The shower of water flowed past me. I could feel the energy, the power in the moving water just as I could feel the energy and power of the man standing behind me. Jackson

lifted

my

arms

and

pressed my hands against the wall. Then he took hold of my hips and moved them so that my ass jutted out. His bare foot moved between my feet, and he spread

my legs wider. He leaned over me and kissed my back as his hand moved around my hip and down between my legs. His fingers were cold at first but they warmed quickly in the moist heat of my pussy. He tickled my clit. “Are you all right?” he asked, and I knew what he meant. I straightened my arms to brace for him.

“Yes.” My answer flowed away with the torrent of water rushing past. It was an unreal setting. I was standing against a rock wall, with a waterfall as my curtain and about to be taken by a man who had made every inch of me feel alive with a passion I never knew I had. My senses were overwhelmed with it all. I was expecting it, yet my knees crumpled as Jackson pushed his cock

inside of me. He gripped me until I could steady myself. Then his fingers worked magic on my clit, teasing it to oblivion while he thrust into me with a force that seemed to match the intensity of the waterfall. In

seconds,

I

found

myself

squeezing his hand between my legs for more as I pushed hard against his movements. His heavy sac slapped my pussy as he jammed himself deeper,

reaching my hot center. I felt the first sensations and made a useless attempt to curl my fingers around the rock like I would around a bed sheet. But there was nothing to hold onto as I rolled over the cliff into ecstasy. “Oh Jackson! Yes!” My cries echoed off the rock walls. Jackson’s fingers dug into my flesh as he came seconds later.

It took several moments for us both to catch our breath. The waterfall churned on. The water misted our naked bodies as we stood beneath the spray. Jackson spun me around and pulled me into his arms. “Sure as hell didn’t see this coming,” he muttered as if only speaking to himself. I looked questioningly up at him,

expecting him to elaborate. Which he did. With a kiss.

CHAPTER 17 I leaned back and released a long, satisfied sigh. Peony scented bubbles sparkled around me as I stretched my legs out in the magnificent bathtub. Somehow, my hostess, a woman who I was now convinced could read my

thoughts, had managed to have a hot bubble bath waiting for me the moment I arrived back at the inn. Jackson and I had had tons to talk about on the way back to the barn. I found he was a great storyteller and an even better listener. We’d only known each other for a day, yet I already felt a true connection with him. And it wasn’t just because of the numerous intimate moments we’d shared during that short

amount of time. Jackson was someone I felt comfortable talking to, and we shared common interests. Best of all, he laughed at my dry wit, something Nate had never really liked. Along with a lot of other things, apparently. But that didn’t matter to me at all anymore. My ex-fiancé was slowly becoming a faint and distant memory, thanks to my weekend

with someone

who

was

showing me just what I’d been missing

all that time. Stepping out of my luxurious bath was like dragging myself out of a cozy, quilted bed on a snowy Monday morning. But my fingers were starting to look like raisins, a sure sign that I’d overstayed my welcome. I wrapped myself in the plush towel Coco had left for me and walked out to the bedroom. My legs were

certainly

feeling

the

weekend’s

activities. Both, on the horse and with the cowboy. It was a rich, achy fatigue that I could definitely get used to. I walked into the bedroom. While I was in soaking, Coco had left a flirty, short denim dress on a hook on the door. There was even a fresh pair of panties and a pair of ankle boots with it. A note was pinned to the collar.

I took off the note and read it. “The dress is for tonight. The grilled cheese sandwich and dill pickle on the kitchen counter are for now. I’m out, by the way, and I won’t be back until late tonight. Have fun.” I stared in confusion at the note. She wrote the letter as if she had my evening planned already. I hadn’t thought too much about the night, only that I hoped to see Jackson at some point.

After the ride, I’d hobbled back to the inn and he’d started his barn chores. I’d insisted I could stay and help, but he shooed me off, saying I’d only slow him down. Which hurt my feelings at first, until he added that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me long enough to ‘get a damn thing done’. I pulled on the dress. It was snug all the way down, but technically a perfect fit. I would have expected no

less. I left the ankle boots off. It was a barefoot kind of afternoon. During summer days on my grandpa’s ranch when the August sun was billowing through all the farmhouse windows and his hound dogs were snoring on the front porch, I’d kick off my work boots, grab a sandwich and lemonade and head out onto the front porch to bask in the fruit scented warmth of the day. Grandpa would catch me sitting out there and look

pointedly at my feet and say ‘guess it’s a barefoot kind of afternoon, eh Becca’? Sometimes, he’d even join me. Although kicking off his boots always took a more determined approach, which included me sitting on the floor tugging them until I rolled back onto my bottom with an empty boot in my hands. I headed downstairs and to the kitchen. The bakery was quiet. I wondered just when the customers had

come in to clear out most of the trays. Of course, I’d been so wrapped up in my own stay at the inn, it was possible I just hadn’t noticed anyone else. Just as with the perfectly hot bath, the thick grilled cheese that seemed to be oozing with at least three different cheeses, was still hot. I picked up the icy, cold pickle and took a bite. It snapped off salty and tangy in my mouth. As if my thoughts about my days on Grandpa’s porch had conjured

it, a tall glass of lemonade sat next to the plate. Coco was positively clairvoyant. I picked up the plate and glass. There was a linen napkin tucked underneath it. Silk Stocking Inn had been neatly embroidered across the top of the napkin. I could feel stitching on the back as well. I turned it over, expecting to see the same words. There was a sentence stitched in pink thread on the back. It read ‘sometimes you’ve got to look to

your past to find your future’. I stared at the sentiment for a moment, thinking how often my stay here at the inn had transported me back to my wonderful life on Grandpa’s ranch. My stomach growled, reminding me that the sandwich waited. I tucked the napkin under the plate and carried it out to the front porch to sit. It wasn’t going to be the same without Samson and Goliath, Grandpa’s dogs, but I felt

confident that Coco’s grilled cheese would make up for the lack of dog snores. I sat on the top step. That’s when I noticed something strange. The dead, spindly rose vines had come back to life with pink, perfume-rich blossoms. I was no expert on gardening or roses, and while I was sure it was possible to save a dying rose vine, I could find no explanation for how clusters of roses

could have grown overnight. It was almost as if the Silk Stocking Inn was out of a regular time zone. With Coco’s incalculable age, bathtubs and food always being just the right temperature and now with roses springing up overnight, it was the best explanation I could come up with, even as impossible as it seemed. My theorizing about time and roses and Coco stopped the second a tall,

broad shouldered cowboy came around the corner. His white smile made me nearly melt right along with the cheese on my sandwich. “Thought I’d find you sitting out here, Spunky.” He walked over and sat on the porch step below me. He leaned his forearm on the step and gazed up at me. “How’d you know? Did you smell

the grilled cheese?” I handed him half of my sandwich. He gladly accepted. “Nope. I’ve just developed a sixth sense when it comes to you, Becca.” He took a big bite. “Is that right? A sixth sense?” He swallowed and took a sip of my lemonade. “Yep. I was walking this direction and, as usual, I was thinking about you.” He reached up and smoothed

his hand down the back of my calf. “And these legs. And your smile. And our day at the pond.” He winked unnecessarily. “That’s a lot of thinking for a short walk from the barn.” He shrugged. “What can I say, woman? You’ve got my head filled with thoughts, all kinds of thoughts.” He shut one eye to let me know he was assessing my dress. “Since you’ve got that hot

little denim dress, what do you say we go out dancing tonight? There’s a place up the street that plays a little country and a lot of rock. There’s a crummy dance floor in the middle. Sound good?” “Actually, it sounds great.”

CHAPTER 18 After sharing the sandwich on the porch, Jackson had gone back to the barn for the afternoon feeding. I’d headed in to peruse the books in the sitting room. A floor to ceiling dark mahogany bookcase sat on the back wall of the room, which

was painted a deep gold color. The vast room was furnished with grand looking furniture, upholstered with rich red and yellow brocade and covered with tassel trimmed pillows. I tried to focus on a well-used copy of Pride and Prejudice, but my mind kept slipping off to Jackson and our dance date. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone dancing.

I shut the book for good and tapped a rhythm on the ornately carved wood trim running along the arm of the couch as I stared out the window. The afternoon sun was just starting to droop in the blue sky, but time seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. As much as I didn’t want the weekend to end, I was anxiously waiting for nightfall. I was like a teenage girl waiting for her first date.

With Coco gone, it was far too quiet in the house. I decided a quick jaunt to the barn to possibly lend a hand with the hay was what I needed to pass the time along faster. I climbed the stairs and grabbed the ankle boots Coco had left for me. They looked amazing with the denim dress. I turned around in the mirror a few times and decided I looked exactly right for a few barn chores. Especially if

those chores included some heavy kissing and, with any luck, some heavy petting. And I wasn’t thinking about petting the horses. I strolled the long path. Once the barn came into view, I picked up my pace, nearly skipping along in my stylish boots. I hadn’t dressed in western fashion in a long while, mostly because it wasn’t something Nate would have appreciated. I was definitely going to hit

a few country western stores once I got back home. With the thought of back home, my gait slowed and my shoulders slumped. Back home would mean away from Silk Stocking Inn, and most importantly, it would mean away from Jackson. “What have I done?” I asked myself aloud. It seemed I’d tried to patch my former heartbreak with another layer

of heartbreak. I stopped and stared at the barn. The entire scene in front of me already seemed so familiar that it felt as if I’d been at the inn for months. Jackson walked out of the barn with a wheelbarrow. He was wearing his black hat, a white t-shirt and jeans. He was familiar too. As if I’d known him for months. I drew in a deep breath and willed

my feet forward. There was no sense in stopping the weekend short just because I was afraid of getting hurt. That horse and buggy had already left the gate. I was well past the point of getting hurt. I’d just have to deal with it when the time came. Jackson swung the barrow around and spotted me coming along the path. His smile could light an entire television set. Feeling revived just by seeing him, I

picked up my pace and headed toward him. He pushed his hat back as I stepped right next to him and hopped up on my toes to kiss him. “Well, that sure makes barn chores a

lot

sweeter.”

He

pushed

the

wheelbarrow, and I walked alongside him. “I’m here to lend a helping hand . .

. with the hay.” I smiled flirtatiously his direction. “Or whatever else you might need.” “Is that right? Since I’m already finished feeding, I guess I’ll have to come up with whatever else.” He parked the wheelbarrow outside the barn and stripped off his gloves, an innocent enough action that caused my already tender pussy to clench. Jackson had awakened feelings and desires in me that

I’d apparently buried during my long relationship with Nate. Now that they’d resurfaced, I had no intention of tamping them down again. Music was coming from a radio in the barn. I followed him into the tack room. “Counting Crows playing Four White Stallions. I love this song.” I walked over to the radio on the shelf and

turned it up. I swung around and discovered Jackson had been watching me. “It’s just the right blend of rock and country, don’t you think?” He nodded. “Just the right damn blend, Becca.” He reached out his hand. I took it. He pulled me close and placed his other arm around my back. “Who needs to waste a night in a crowded bar when we’ve got each other and a perfectly good dance floor.” He tapped

the cement floor with his boot. “And the Counting Crows singing country rock tunes.” The great music, the lighting in the breezeway and the warm scent of hay and animals created an incredibly romantic ambience for a girl who was quickly discovering that she’d left a piece of her heart back in the country on her grandpa’s ranch.

Jackson swung me around. My head felt dizzy with it all. I lolled my head back. He spun me around again and then pulled me tightly against him. I rested my face on his shoulder, trying to remember if I’d ever felt so secure and safe with Nate as I did with Jackson. “Thank you, Jackson.” I said it so quietly, I was sure he hadn’t heard. “For what, Becca?”

“For this. For being you. For helping me find my heart again.” He responded by closing his arms around me tighter. We danced until the song ran out.

CHAPTER 19 Daylight was shifting to evening outside the barn. Jackson finished our impromptu dance session with a kiss. “I was thinkin’ maybe we should just stay in tonight. It’s your last night, and I don’t

really want to share you with anyone else.” His mention of it being my last night made my heart sink in my chest. What would happen once I left the inn? We’d never discussed anything more than the weekend. In fact, he’d made it quite clear that I was his ‘for the weekend’. I’d given him just that--all of me, without hesitation. But I’d needed this, I’d needed something to take my

mind off Nate dumping me. There was no way I was going to let any form of regret seep in and take hold of me. Jackson pushed up my chin, and his brows creased together as he looked at me. “Did I say something wrong? We could still go out dancing.” I shook my head. “No, there’s nothing wrong. And I’d rather not share you tonight either.”

“Great.” Jackson walked over and picked up a bridle from the sawhorse. His boots thumped the floor as he went to hang it on the wall hook. I watched his muscular back and shoulders move beneath the fabric of his shirt as he lifted his strong arms to the hook. I needed badly to shake off the melancholy feelings that had swept over me. I decided right then that taking a little initiative might be fun.

While his back was turned to me, I unbuttoned the bodice of the denim dress. The buttons led all the way down to my belly button. I’d just finished pushing aside the panels to expose my bra as he turned back around. He was holding a rope in his hand. A wickedly charming smile crept up on his face. His cool green gaze slid down to my exposed bra and stomach. He tried hard not to be shocked

that I’d opened my dress, but I was sure I detected a small, tense twitch in his jaw. “Seems like you and me were thinking the same damn thing.” His deep, rich drawl sent a shiver through me. I looked pointedly at the rope in his hand. “Are you going ropin’, cowboy?” “Sure as hell am.” As he walked

toward me, he took a rope end in each hand. He reached me and dropped the rope around me. With one quick tug, he had me solid against him. I smiled up at him. “Guess you really were going roping.” “Not done yet.” He held me against him with the rope circled behind my back, and he kissed me. It was a deep, urgent kiss. I melted against him,

wanting more of it. His hungry mouth trailed down my neck to my bra. His tongue swept beneath the lace to tease my nipples. I reached between us for his fly and unbuttoned his pants. His deep groan tickled my naked skin as I slid my hand into his pants and took hold of his cock. It was hard and hot in my fingers as I pulled it free of his jeans.

I stroked him. He moved his hips, urging me along. Then, with a growl, he let go of one side of the rope and took hold of my wrist. I released him. He walked me to the wall where the lead ropes hung from a hook. With one swift movement, he picked up all the ropes and tossed them to the floor of the stall. His lids were heavy with lust, almost astonishingly so, and I trembled with anticipation of what was to come.

“Just occurred to me that I was standing in a place with a lot of rope and the hottest damn woman in the world. Why waste an opportunity?” “Huh?” I sighed dreamily. “I’m sorry I faded off with the words ‘hottest damn woman in the world’.” He lowered his face to kiss me again, distracting me temporarily as he tied the rope he was holding around my

wrists. “Well, this is different.” I giggled nervously against his mouth. “Yep. Thought I’d try something new.” He lifted my bound hands above my head and tied the rope to the hook on the wall. I should have been shocked and even a little worried, but I wasn’t. Jackson had a power over me that made me want to yield to all his commands.

When it came to sex, I was his. He’d unleashed a whole other part of me that I was rather enjoying. He slid his hands beneath the panels of the dress and swept his palms over my back as he kissed my breasts. I moved to put my hands in his hair and remembered, with a hot blush, that my hands were tied and I was bound to the wall. It was excitingly erotic being at his mercy. My pussy surged with moist heat.

Jackson pulled his hands out from the dress and shoved the bottom half up above my waist. He dropped down to his knees in front of me. I was lightheaded, as my pulse raced with the thought of him taking me with my hands tied above my head. “Hell, Becca, I can’t get enough of you. I want you every second of the day. You should be touched every second of the day.” His fingers pushed down my

panties. I felt them slide down to my boots. Jackson rose up on his knees and kissed the tender skin around my pussy as he reached down and lifted my boot out of the panties. He moved my feet wide. The rope tugged at my wrists. Then he picked up my leg and draped it over his shoulder. He did the same with the other. I was sitting on his shoulders but facing him, my pussy directly in front of his mouth. It took the

weight off my wrists, but I was still defenseless. I rested

my head

back and

luxuriated in the feel of his mouth on my pussy. He reached around to my ass, pushing his fingers into the crack and spreading me wide so his tongue could reach every intimate fold and crease. My hands tingled above my head, but it was

nothing compared to the frissons of pleasure overwhelming the rest of my body. “Oh, Jackson, everything you do . . .” My voice trailed off. I could no longer think coherent thoughts. The light and colors of the barn swirled into a blended haze. My body stiffened and I pressed my pussy hard against Jackson’s mouth as he brought me easily to climax.

“Damn, baby, you taste like fucking candy,” Jackson muttered as he lowered my feet to the ground. Having my hands bound was helping to keep me from crumpling to the floor in a whimpering puddle. Jackson watched me through heavy lids as he jammed his jeans down to his thighs. In my haze, I saw him move toward me, but my eyes drifted shut as he wrapped his hands around my ass. He

lifted me just slightly off the ground. I threw my legs around his waist. “Damn, you are something else, Rebecca.” His words and hearing him call me by my real name made my throat tighten. He took firm hold of my bottom and held me as he drove his cock into me. “Fuck yeah,” he sighed deeply, as if the all the tension in his body had been released in

one motion. I held him firmly with my legs. My hands grew slightly numb from the rope, but I hardly noticed. All of my focus was on the sweet spot between my legs where Jackson was penetrating me with a frantic hunger that thrilled me. “This is where I belong, Becca. Right between your legs, always and forever.” He moved faster against me,

reviving some of the earlier pulses of pleasure that had nearly overwhelmed my pussy. He caused a delicious ache that made me want even more. His hands tightened around my ass. He shoved into me deep and hard until his body went rigid and a deep growl rose in his chest. He held me there, his cock still buried inside of me, until his ragged breathing slowed.

Then, he lowered my feet to the ground and quickly untied my hands. He took them between his own large hands and rubbed away the numbness. He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed the pink marks the rope had left on my wrists. “Sorry about that.” I stared down proudly at the marks. “Kinky. I like it. Besides, it’ll fade soon.

My skin is sensitive.” He put his arm around me. “That explains why you react so instantly to my touch.” “That has nothing to do with my sensitive skin and everything to do with the hot cowboy, who seems to know exactly what I want and need.” He kissed me. “I’m thinking we should

both freshen up,

raid

the

refrigerator for some grub and start the kinky stuff all over.” “I like the way you think.” I pulled my panties up and my dress down. He buttoned up his jeans. “I’m just going to finish straightening up in here. I’ll see you at the house.” “All right. Don’t be too long. I’m starved.” “Are ya? Well, shit little woman,

just get your ass over here again. I think I can work up some more energy for another round.” “Uh, I was talking about the grub. But I’m looking forward to the dessert too.” I winked and stepped out of the tack room. I walked to Archie’s stall to say good-night. Archie was lying on the ground next to an untouched mound of hay. He

lifted his big head and blinked lazily at me. But this wasn’t a sleepy horse. I hurried back to the tack room. “Jackson, Archie’s on the ground and he didn’t finish dinner.” “Damn it.” He followed me to Archie’s stall. Archie was still on the ground, trying to roll his big body over. “Guess I’ll see you at the house

later.” Jackson grabbed Archie’s halter. “Looks like I’ll be tending to a belly ache.” “Should I call a vet?” “Not yet. Archie can be overly dramatic. I’m going to walk him around and keep an eye on him. I’ve got a phone out here if I need to call the vet.” “All right. I’ll bring you out some food.” I looked into the stall. “Feel

better, Archie.” “Hey, Becca.” I stopped and looked back at him. “Good catch. You really do know horses.”

CHAPTER 20 After a hot shower, I’d pulled back on the jeans and shirt, for practicality. I headed down to the kitchen. Jackson hadn’t come back to the house, so I could only conclude that he was still tending to the sick horse.

I leaned into the refrigerator. A white casserole dish sat on the top shelf with a note taped to the top. “Rebecca, this is for dinner. Heat it in the oven for thirty minutes at 375.” I walked over to the oven and turned it on. I hated to wait so long for the dinner to heat, but chances were, Jackson was still busy with Archie. When a horse had an upset stomach, or colic, then the animal had to be walked

and kept on his feet. Rolling or lying on the ground could cause more problems. I stuck the casserole, a tuna noodle delight, complete with crunchy topping, into the heated oven and headed to the sitting room. I realized that I’d gone more than a day without looking at my phone or computer, and it was pretty darn freeing. Growing up with my grandpa, it was the one thing he would scold me about. ‘Too much damn time

staring a screen and not enough time looking at the world around you’. It was one of his favorite chants, and one I never forgot. I sat down on the elegant tufted sofa and picked up a book that had been left on the corner table. It was Louis L’Amour, The Riders of High Rock, one of my grandpa’s favorites. He used to sit in his easy chair under his big brass reading lamp and read. It wouldn’t be

longer than fifteen minutes of page turning before his head would droop, his chin would tuck against his chest and he would start snoring right along with his dogs. There had been many times back then when I’d yearned for my parents, but Grandpa filled a void that they’d left behind. It wasn’t easy raising a teenage girl, but he did a pretty damn good job. I closed the book and held it on my lap as I rested my head back and shut my

eyes.

This

weekend

had

been

unforgettable. Tomorrow was Sunday, and Monday morning, I’d be back at work to start my crazy job schedule all over again. I would have to say my good-byes and leave this wonderful place. I wasn’t completely sure what would happen. I’d started something with Jackson that had felt like more than just a fun fling. The intimacy we’d shared had created a connection. Or, at

least it had for me. Since I was terrible at reading men’s feelings, I had no idea how Jackson felt. I would wait and see how things went. I should’ve been kicking myself for letting myself feel attached to him, but I wouldn’t have missed the last twentyfour hours for the world. They’d helped me recuperate some of that selfconfidence I’d lost when Nate dumped me. I was no longer questioning why he

left but smiling about the fact that he’d given up something awesome. The aroma of tuna casserole was starting to fill the air. I walked into the kitchen. There was still twenty minutes on the timer. I decided to take a stroll out to the barn to see how the patient was doing and see if Jackson needed me to take over for awhile. When I’d left the barn earlier,

Jackson had led Archie out to the round pen to walk him around. The outside barn lights lit up the yard. The round pen was empty. A convertible Mustang was parked outside the barn. A strange vehicle for an equine vet, but then nothing around the Silk Stocking Inn was usual. I

headed

toward

the

barn.

Jackson’s laugh rolled out. A distinctly more feminine laugh followed. A woman

vet would not be unusual, I reminded myself. I reached the opening and looked in. Archie was standing in the cross ties. Not one, but two pretty women, a red head and a blonde, all dressed for a night of dancing, were standing in the barn talking and laughing with Jackson. He was too busy to notice me at first. Archie, who seemed to be feeling much better, lifted his head and snorted.

Jackson’s

attention

turned

my

direction. “Hey, Becca, told you he was overly dramatic. He’s fine. No vet required.” He was completely oblivious to the assessing looks I was receiving from his two friends. “This is Angie and Carla. They came by to see if I was heading to the bar tonight. Do you still want to go?” I shook my head and swallowed back the dryness in my throat. I was such

a knucklehead. A man like Jackson would have plenty of women waiting for him to dance or ride or do whatever. I was just a diversion for the weekend, a traveler with no commitment who would be gone on Sunday. I pointed back over my shoulder. “No, you go ahead. I’m just going to go back.” “Wait, Becca,” he called as I spun

around and headed off toward the house. I heard him behind me and picked up to a run. “Becca.” His long legs overtook me fast. He took hold of my arm and turned me toward him. “What’s wrong? They’re just friends.” He went to place his hand against my face, but I moved away from his touch. “You’ve

done

nothing

wrong,

Jackson. You don’t need to explain a thing. I’m just a little touchy. It’s been a wonderful day, and I have you to thank for it. You’ve helped me mend some, and I appreciate it. I know this was all just a weekend dalliance for you. It was silly of me to think differently.” A sob escaped my lips. “And now I feel extra silly for making a scene.” I tore off and ran for the house. Jackson didn’t follow.

CHAPTER 21 I’d managed to effectively cry myself to sleep. I’d hardly shed a tear after Nate left me, and it seemed that I’d needed it badly, after all. The funny thing was, I wasn’t shedding tears about losing him so much as about letting

myself make such nonsense decisions when it came to relationships. Some of it I blamed on not having a mom when I’d needed one most growing up. Heck, I didn’t even have an older sister to bounce ideas and choices off of. Grandpa had always shut down quickly when I started talking about boys. And I couldn’t blame him. Nate had appeared right after my grandfather’s death, and at a time when

I’d felt completely alone. I latched onto him without giving it much thought. Just as I’d latched onto Jackson at a time when I’d again felt completely alone. I’d fallen prey to his green eyes and deep cowboy drawl . . . among other things. The comical thing was—it seemed it was going to be much harder getting over the man I’d spent a weekend with than the man I’d been with for six years.

I sat up from the pillow. My head ached from the night of crying. I avoided the mirror on the side of the room, certain that I looked like a puffy-eyed monster. I needed to head home and get ready for another week at work. My computer would be bursting with emails and next week’s script. As nice as it had been being off the grid for a few days, my entire life and career counted on that grid.

I put my feet on the cold floor. Before I left, I was determined to work up the courage to say good-bye to Jackson. I didn’t want to leave the inn with him thinking badly of me. And I wanted to let him know how much fun I’d had with him. A knock on my door was followed by Coco’s voice. “I have a croissant and coffee for you.”

I walked to the door and opened it. Coco lifted up a tray with coffee and a croissant. There was nothing unusual about her appearance today, just a pretty, young innkeeper and one of her amazing baked goods. “The little crock has my honey butter. I think you’ll like it. I thought you might need some sustenance for your drive home.” I took hold of the tray. She followed me into the room. “I don’t

know how to thank you, Coco. I wish you’d let me pay for all this luxury.” “Nonsense. Occasionally, a guest shows up who is in special need of some pampering. When they do, I always invite them for a free weekend. It’s all part of my marketing master plan.” She winked at me. “I’ll give you directions back to the highway once you come downstairs.”

“I’ll just shower quickly and eat. Is Jackson at the barn? I wanted to say good-bye.” “Oh, that’s too bad then.” My face flashed her direction. “Why?” “Jackson drove out early this morning in his truck. Said something about picking up some new equipment. Won’t be back until tonight.”

“Oh.” My disappointment could not be missed, but instead of looking sympathetic, Coco was holding back a smile. It was a strange reaction from someone who had been so kind. “Anyhow,” she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders, “I’ll see you downstairs.” She floated out of the room and closed the door behind her. It seemed I would never see

Jackson again. Not even to say goodbye. Maybe that was for the best. Something told me a good-bye was not going to be as easy as I envisioned. It was probably going to be much less painful to drive away from the inn without having to gaze into his green eyes or see that Hollywood smile again. Or, worst of all, stand in his arms again.

CHAPTER 22 The

usual

Monday

morning

frenetic energy on the set had made the first half of the day race by. It was what I’d needed to keep my mind off other things. The weekend at Silk Stocking Inn was supposed to help me clear my mind

of Nate. And it had. Only now I was suffering what seemed to be a broken heart. The truth was, I missed Jackson. He’d

been

everything

I

wanted.

Everything I needed. Isabel walked into the office with the ratings reports. “Ratings are up,” she said cheerily. “Anything else you need before I head down to lunch?” “Yes, I need to be slapped upside

the head.” She blinked at me from beneath her rhinestone

covered

cap.

“I

don’t

understand. You want me to slap you?” “Figure of speech my grandpa liked to use when he saw me do something stupid. This seemed as good a time as any because I’ve been stupid.” She

came

toward

the

desk.

“Thought you seemed off today, but with

it being Monday morning, I didn’t want to bring it up. Want to talk about it?” I thought for an instant about rehashing the whole story of my glorious romantic weekend, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it yet. Soon enough, it would all seem like a dream, a mirage that would wash away with time and clarity. “No, you go ahead.” I glanced at

the clock on my desk. “It’s early for lunch, isn’t it?” Isabel smiled. “Yes, a bit, but a couple of us are anxious to get downstairs.

Jenny,

the

building

receptionist, called Edna and told her an incredibly

handsome

stranger

was

walking around downstairs looking for someone or something. We just wanted to see him before he disappeared.”

I shook my head. “My gosh, we’re all pathetic when it comes to handsome men, aren’t we? Go ahead then. Enjoy your lunch.” She headed to the door. “I will. I only wish I’d worn a cowboy hat to cover this frizzy hair today instead of my glittery cap.” My face snapped up at the words cowboy hat. My throat dried and the

question crackled out. “Why a cowboy hat?” “Jenny said the guy was some tall, broad-shouldered man in a cowboy hat and cowboy boots.” I took a steadying breath and sat back as she hurried out of the office. I was thankful she hadn’t noticed my reaction. But her face, as she quickly raced back to my office, made my heart

nearly jump from my chest. Isabel’s

eyes

were

round

as

saucers, and her mouth was dropped open as she stepped into the office. “Becca, there’s someone here to see you.” I swallowed hard and took another deep breath. My fingers trembled as I stood from my chair. Isabel stayed frozen to the spot as I walked past her

without a word. I wondered if I would be able to keep from throwing myself into Jackson’s arms the second I saw him. I walked out into the hallway, and a man came around the corner. The excitement rushed out of me. “Nate,” I said, barely able to speak aloud. Nate looked thinner and suntanned

and, somehow, not as handsome as I remembered. “Hey, Becca.” A short, illtimed laugh spurted from his mouth. “Thought you might be happier to see me.” “Why would I?” The cast and crew tried hard not to pay attention to the drama unfolding in the hallway, but they all knew what I’d been through. I couldn’t blame them for

lurking nearby to listen. It made Nate nervous. “Look, can we go into your office?” “No, we can’t.” He glanced around at the faces and took a deep breath. “The truth is, I miss you. I made a big mistake. I was hoping we could go back to where we were.” At the end of the hallway, the

elevator bell sounded and the doors slid open. My heart sped up again. The heavy weight in my chest that I’d felt at the sight of Nate lifted. “Holy mackerel,” Isabel muttered behind me. “I’ve got to get me a horse.” My feet started moving and moving fast. Nate smiled and opened his arms. I swerved quickly around him and straight into the arms of the amazing cowboy

standing behind my ex. I could hear the stunned gasps of some of my crew and the string of cuss words from Nate as Jackson closed his arms around me. I peered up at him. “You left so early. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” “No chance of that, baby.” Jackson plucked his hat off and kissed me. A round of cheers and whistles went up

around us. I heard Nate stomp past us as he headed back to the elevators. More cheers followed as the doors closed and the elevator took him away for good. I took hold of Jackson’s hand and led him toward my office. I pulled him past my extremely stunned assistant. “Isabel, hold all my calls.” “You bet I will, boss.”

MOCHA LATTE CUPCAKES DOWNLOAD A PRINTABLE RECIPE CARD

Ingredients: Cake •1cup all purpose flour

•⅓ cup unsweetened cocoa •¾ tsp. baking soda •½ tsp salt •½ cup butter softened •⅔ cup granulated sugar •2 eggs •1½ tsp. vanilla •½ cup milk (2% or whole) •½ cup strongly brewed hot coffee •2 tsp. instant espresso coffee powder Frosting: GANACHE GLAZE •4 oz. quality semi-sweet chocolate

•¼ cup heavy cream •2 tsp. instant espresso powder

Yields 12 cupcakes.

Directions: 1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Prepare muffin pan with paper muffin cups. 2. In a medium bowl, mix together flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt. Set aside. 3. Heat the strongly brewed coffee (if not still hot) Add 2 tsp. instant espresso and stir to dissolve. Set aside to cool. 4. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and milk. Stir 3 tablespoons of the cooled coffee into the egg mixture. Set aside.

5. In a large bowl, cream together butter, sugar, and vanilla until light and fluffy. 6. Add half the dry and half the wet ingredients into butter and sugar mixture until just blended. Add the remaining wet and dry ingredients and mix until blended. Do not overbeat. 7. Spoon batter into muffin cups until 2/3 full. Bake for 20-22 minutes or until fork comes out clean. 8. Make glaze: Break or chop the chocolate into chunks and place in small bowl. Sprinkle 2 tsp instant espresso powder on the chocolate chunks. 9. Heat the heavy cream until hot but not boiling. Pour hot cream over the chocolate, espresso mixture. Cover and let sit 5 minutes. Stir the chocolate mixture until smooth. Taste and add a pinch more espresso if you prefer a stronger coffee flavor.

10. Mocha ganache can be spread onto the cooled cupcakes or pour the chocolate into a shallow bowl and carefully dip cupcake in to coat the top.

Now available from Silk Stocking Inn: Red Velvet & Salted Caramel

WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT THE AUTHORS? Learn more about Tess Oliver on her website & subscribe to receive new release and sale updates. You can also follow her on Twitter and Facebook. Check out Tess’s available titles on Amazon.

Learn more about Anna Hart on her website & subscribe to receive new release and sale updates. Check out Anna’s available titles on Amazon.