Chapter 14
“I’m so sorry, Jameson.” Lottie stared after Beckett and his men as they rode away toward Vinnie’s ranch.
Jameson stood beside her and watched the riders too. He’d grown quiet as Beckett had said his farewell and started off.
Even though Jameson had agreed to the fake marriage and played along with her in fooling Beckett, she could tell he wasn’t happy about it.
She heaved an exasperated sigh at herself. “I don’t know what came over me that day in town. I shouldn’t have told everyone we were married, should have just let them think whatever they wanted.”
“I understand why you did it.” He spoke softly, his gaze on Beckett.
Of course Jameson was understanding. He was a decent man in every way—considerate, accommodating, and helpful.
He’d done more for her and the boys in the short month he’d lived with them than Dray had in years.
Not only had he fixed things and interacted with the boys and gone to great lengths to get the puppy, but he’d been there to support and encourage her and the boys every day.
Now he’d even lied for her.
“I didn’t think Beckett would hear about it or even care.” A part of her was irritated that he’d ridden out and interfered with her business after all of the silence and shunning. Another part was surprised he’d taken an interest in her well-being.
Even if he had invited her to visit him and his wife at the Double T, she was still skeptical that he cared about her as a person more than he cared about her creating a scandal for the family.
“Beckett might be pesky”—it was Jameson’s turn to release a sigh—“but he’s a good man.”
She wasn’t so sure about how good Beckett was. But at least he’d been civil, and he’d seemed sincere. “I’m sorry for making things worse between you and him.”
“Maybe Beckett is right. Maybe it’s time I write to my family and tell them where I am.”
“Maybe we’re both in need of setting aside our past grudges toward our families.”
“It’s not easy.”
“No, and we might not end up reconciling, but at least we can stop hanging on to the past and move on.”
“True.”
They fell silent and watched Beckett and his men retreat.
Her thoughts again turned toward Beckett and the years of feeling like an outsider not only with the people in Turnersville but with those at the Double T.
She’d never been accepted there either, and the rejection by her father and brother had hurt maybe even more than the rejection she’d faced in town.
Was it time to follow her own advice and stop hanging on to the past? Especially because Beckett seemed to be trying to do the same.
When Beckett and his men disappeared over the horizon, she was suddenly aware of how close she was standing to Jameson, her arm still linked with his and her shoulder pressed into him.
He was solid and sturdy, and there was something about him that was so magnetic and masculine, something that tugged at her insides and opened the lid on the attraction to him that had been bubbling below the surface and heating up over the past weeks.
Had she really dared to kiss him so freely and passionately just a short while ago?
That kiss. She couldn’t deny how much pleasure she’d taken from it. More than she’d expected, more than she’d ever experienced in kissing Dray. Jameson’s kiss had made her feel adored and cherished. He’d somehow communicated that to her, although she wasn’t sure how.
Even now, the craving for more rose swiftly inside her. She wanted to flatten against him and offer her mouth to him so that she could feel his passion, taste his heat, and let their lips dance together.
Just thinking about fusing her mouth to his brought the heat inside to an overflow so that it pulsed through her. Her hand tightened on his arm, her breathing grew shallow, and she pressed closer into his side.
His muscle flexed beneath her hand, and he seemed to pin her tighter, as though he didn’t want her to move away.
Was he reliving their kiss too? Was he feeling the tension of attraction as much as she was?
Should she drag him down into another kiss? Another one that was exciting and intoxicating and pleasurable all at the same time.
No, she had to resist the desire. She couldn’t kiss Jameson again, because it would lead to more. She felt certain of it, that somehow the passion between them was all too alive and real. If she gave way to it, she would set into motion something she’d been fighting against.
He held himself stiffly and exhaled a short burst. Then he released her and took a step away.
The movement forced her to let go of his arm, and somehow, in the process, it seemed to awaken her to the fact that she was being too brazen, too physical, too consumed with wanting him. She was, in fact, acting like a loose woman. Like her mother.
With a frustrated huff, she stepped out from the shade of the tree and started toward her horse grazing near the spring.
He didn’t move, but she could feel his gaze trailing her.
“Listen, Jameson.” She had to put an end to whatever she was feeling. “I’m not sure what happened with us before Beckett showed up.”
“I apologize for that.” He spoke quickly and sincerely.
She paused in front of her horse and faced Jameson squarely. The afternoon sunshine fell over her and seemed to wake her up even more to how close she’d come to losing herself with him. “I apologize too—”
“It was all my fault.”
“That’s not entirely true, and we both know it.” She’d had a role in it too, but she appreciated that he was taking some responsibility.
“No, Lottie. It was me.” His tone turned insistent. “I had no business lying next to you, especially with how beautiful you are. I was only asking for trouble in resisting my desire for you.”
The bubbling inside her started up again at double the speed. He desired her?
She wasn’t sure why that statement affected her. Men had called her beautiful and desired her in the past. But with Jameson, it stirred her in a strange and new way.
“I vow that I won’t take advantage of you or the circumstances again.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me—”
“I should have used self-restraint, and I regret that I didn’t.”
“So you didn’t like kissing me?” The instant the question was out, she knew she shouldn’t have asked it. “Don’t answer that.”
He was silent. His gaze flitted to her mouth, then back to her eyes.
The brown had darkened to the color of thick molasses.
Even though he didn’t say a word, his answer was obvious.
He’d found pleasure in kissing her. Maybe not as much as she had in kissing him, but he wouldn’t have kissed her back so thoroughly if he hadn’t enjoyed it.
“All right.” Her voice came out huskier than she wanted. “We won’t kiss again.” It would be easier on everyone if they kept their relationship platonic for the duration of his stay. No doubt he knew that as much as she did.
He shoved his hat on and then began to stuff their lunch remains in the saddlebag on his horse. When he finished, she was already mounted and taking a sip from her canteen, trying not to watch him but as fascinated with him as always.
He stuck his boot into the stirrup, then paused and looked up at her. “What if we decide to be married for real instead of just pretending?”
The question came at her so unexpectedly that she choked on the water she was drinking.
“I’m serious.” He didn’t make a move to mount. “It’s the right thing for me to do after sharing intimacies with you like that.”
She scoffed. “There’s no harm from a little kissing.”
“If Beckett knew we weren’t married, he’d see it differently and insist on me making you my wife.”
“Good thing Beckett isn’t here.”
“But I feel the same way after dishonoring you.”
“You didn’t dishonor me, Jameson. I probably wanted the kiss more than you did.” Now why had she admitted that?
He finished mounting, then shifted his horse, giving her a clear view of the heat that was flaring in his eyes at her admission.
Regardless, she had to squelch the attraction. “I thought I explained that I’m not planning to get married again and end up with a handful of husbands like my mother.”
“You won’t. I’ll be your final husband.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“To me, marriage is forever.”
“You’re a drifter, and eventually you’ll want to move on.”
“I don’t have to be a drifter any longer.”
“But my ranch, me, the kids—it’s not what you were looking for, and I won’t saddle you with everything just because we kissed and you want to make yourself feel better.”
His expression took on a shadow. “I’m not doing it to feel better about myself.”
“I refuse to marry a man who is proposing out of obligation and not out of love.” Where had love gotten her with Dray?
Not very far. Of course, in hindsight, she could see that maybe she’d mistaken physical attraction for love.
Even so, she’d thought they’d cared about each other when they’d spoken their marriage vows.
Jameson didn’t respond except to press his lips together.
She was glad he wasn’t pushing her more, especially in making a declaration about love developing if they worked hard enough at it or something like that. That would be even worse than the whole marrying-for-noble-reasons line he’d just given her.
“The fact is,” she continued, “I don’t want or need a man in my life. So anytime you’re ready to move on, I won’t hold you back.”
His eyes narrowed. “Thanks for making your position clear.” With that, he nudged his horse forward.
She stared after him for a long second, her heart suddenly tapping with a need to ride after him and tell him she didn’t mean it, that she liked him, that she wanted to be with him, that she didn’t really want him to leave.
But no. She clamped her mouth closed. She’d already had enough instability in her life. She would be better off staying independent and not getting involved with any men. Including Jameson.
She would also be better off keeping their relationship a working one so that when the time came for him to leave, he wouldn’t break her heart in the process.