Chapter 12
Lottie yawned, the hot air at midday making her sleepy. The shade of the trees beside the spring only brought a little relief.
In the shade beside her, Jameson was stretched out and leaning on his elbow. The cattle grazed in the lush grass near the water, their tails swishing and their backs twitching.
“Having a puppy is more work than having a baby.” Her eyes felt heavy.
Rascal had been with them for three days, and the dog seemed to have her nights and days mixed up, playing and barking and romping around the house at night and then sleeping all day.
Jameson had instructed the boys to do what they could to keep the puppy awake during the days, but the puppy was still convinced that nighttime was when she needed to have everyone’s undivided attention.
Even though Jameson appeared to be resting, he was as alert as always and had made sure to scan the area for snakes before they’d sat down to eat their lunch. “I can keep the puppy with me in the barn for a few nights.”
“A few nights?” She arched a brow at him.
“I don’t mind.”
Whether he minded or not wasn’t the point. Tomorrow marked the last day of his month of working for her. Surely he hadn’t forgotten. Of course, he’d offered to stay longer a few nights ago when she’d followed him down to the creek. But they hadn’t agreed on it, and he hadn’t brought it up since.
“It’ll give you and the boys and Mimmi a chance to catch up on sleep.”
“That’s nice of you to offer. There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You won’t be here.”
“I told you I’d stay.” His voice was quiet and earnest.
A part of her knew she couldn’t turn him down again. If he really was willing—and it seemed like he was—she had to accept his kind offer. She shifted her head so that she was facing him. “How long?”
He’d taken off his hat, and his hair had a hat ring from perspiration. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
“So what you’re really saying is that you don’t want to give me a date? That you want to keep it open?”
“Maybe.”
“So you want to go day to day and see how you feel?”
“Are you okay with that?”
How would the boys do with that approach?
She’d already warned them that Jameson was leaving.
She hadn’t given them an exact day because she hadn’t been sure.
But in the end, she supposed it didn’t really matter if Jameson stayed a few more days or a few more weeks.
The boys were used to people coming and going in their lives and would adjust just like they always had.
Besides, after the other night and learning more about Jameson’s past, she understood better why he was a drifter. He’d shouldered the burden of all that had happened with the woman he’d once loved and was running away from the guilt that plagued him.
The trouble with guilt was that a person never could get very far before it caught up. The best thing to do was to figure out a way to cut it loose and leave it behind. But she wasn’t a preacher and didn’t plan to give him a sermon about it.
At her silence, he searched her face. “You ready to be rid of me?”
“Of course not. I’d be a fool not to keep you on. You can work for me as long as you want.”
“A fool?” He seemed to relax a little. “I’m that good?”
“Are you fishing for a compliment, Mr. Noble?”
“I might be.” His lips quirked with the beginning of a grin.
They’d shared a few smiles over the boys’ antics with the puppy. But mostly, Jameson’s grins were rare.
“I didn’t get much sleep before you arrived, so I suppose even with the puppy, I’m getting more with you here.”
His mouth inched up higher on one side, and the lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. “You really know how to lay on the praise.”
She chuckled. “I know. It’s my gift.”
He combed his fingers through his hair, which was now sticking on end.
“Speaking of praise, you look like you got struck by lightning.”
This time, a real grin finally made an appearance. “Wow. Thanks.”
She smiled back. “You’re welcome.”
“Should I give you a lesson on how to pay a compliment?” His voice held a note of teasing.
“Are you as good at compliment lessons as you are at shooting lessons?”
“Better.”
“Then okay.” She loved this lighthearted bantering. It was as rare as his grins. “Show me how it’s done.”
He bent toward her and touched a loose strand of her hair. “Your hair is so fair that I think the sun rises and falls just on you.”
For a moment, his touch and his words left her both speechless and breathless.
“So?” He leaned back and released her hair. “How was that?”
“It was good.”
“Just good?” His brows rose.
“I couldn’t tell if you actually meant what you were saying or if you were just being nice.”
He frowned. “I wasn’t sincere enough?”
“Maybe.”
He peered out toward the spring, seemed to think for a moment, then he leaned toward her again.
His gaze skimmed her face, taking in each feature before stalling on her cheek.
“Your cheeks are so smooth that the moon must kiss them every night.” With that, he lifted a hand to her cheek, hovered a moment, then traced a delicate line toward her jaw.
Her breath snagged in her chest at the same time that her heart flipped upside down, sending a cascade of heat rippling into her blood. Oh my. He was good. Very good.
His gaze met hers, and his eyes were filled with sincerity and appreciation.
Did he really believe what he’d just said? It seemed like he did.
“Was that better?” he asked softly.
“A little.” She hoped he couldn’t see the heat that was creeping into her face.
He stared off into the distance again.
She rested in the grass and peered up at him, this time taking in the scruff on his jaw and fighting the sudden longing to skim her fingers over his cheek the same way he had just done to hers. If he could touch her, why couldn’t she do the same to him? Maybe pay him a compliment in the process?
Without giving herself a chance to second-guess what she was doing, she lifted her hand and brushed it along the hard angle of his jaw. “The only thing more your jaw needs to make it perfect is my kisses to soften it.”
At her compliment, his eyes flew to meet hers. They were wide with surprise.
Had she said too much? Spoken too passionately? Been too bold? She could admit he was much better at his compliments than she was. “Okay, well, maybe not kiss. Maybe my caress.” She let her fingers drift along his jaw again.
His eyes had dropped to her mouth and lingered there.
The ripples of heat inside her turned into full, crashing waves. Was he thinking about kissing her now? What exactly would kissing Jameson feel like? No doubt it would be as gentle and sweet as his compliments.
“Your lips are so rosy and full,” he said in a low voice, “that every wildflower in Texas pales in comparison.” He shifted his hand to her mouth and traced her top lip.
The touch was like a flame, igniting her so that the craving for him burned through her, growing more intense with every passing moment.
As he shifted his finger to her lower lip and skimmed it, she couldn’t hold back a murmur of pleasure.
She arched up into him. He was close enough that her body easily connected with him.
At the same time, her arms wound around his neck, and she dragged him down, so that her mouth collided with his.
He remained motionless for what felt like an eternal second, as if he might actually roll away from her and refuse to kiss her.
But she was enjoying the feel of him too much to let him get away, and she tightened her hold even more fervently.
Whatever battle he was waging to resist her ended in the next instant.
He capitulated, his return kiss meeting hers with a surge of power and longing so intense it sent tight desire spiraling through her.
She’d been wrong. His kiss wasn’t gentle or sweet.
It was hard and hungry, almost as if he were famished for her.
That wasn’t true. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. He’d been respectful at all times and had never given her a hint of wanting more from her.
In this moment, however, she could sense his need. Not only did he command the kiss, but he pressed against her, his body partially covering hers. She relished the long length of him, the strength, the heat, the desire, all of it.
She could only groan at the back of her throat as more pleasure began to swell inside her. He was a good kisser, and it was clear he was experienced. She didn’t like the thought of him having been with other women, but she’d been with Dray and was experienced too.
She had to remember that their pasts were behind them.
All that was important was him and this attraction to each other that had been suddenly unleashed.
It was strong and wild, and she had half a mind to lie in the grass and kiss him the rest of the afternoon.
She couldn’t do that, and a warning in the back of her mind told her she needed to end the moment of passion before it got out of hand.
But his fingers made a trail up her arm, across her shoulder, and then to her neck, almost as though he was claiming her and had no intention of stopping.
Did she want to stop him?
The answer to that was clear as daylight. No.
With another groan, she laced her fingers into his hair.
“Well, would you look at this,” came a voice from nearby. “Didn’t think the rumor was true about Jameson Noble being married, but I reckon I was wrong.”