CHAPTER 34
Frankie
Delish doesn’t even do it justice.
Not that I’m surprised, since everything we’ve done with each other and to each other in the last twelve hours has been out-of-this-world hot.
Everything about MacLaine is hot.
And right now, we’re lying on our backs on the mattress, out of breath and sweaty. I turn my head his way and find he’s already looking at me, quite seriously.
His expression is nearly back to the grumpy-pokerfaced baseline I remember.
“Everything okay, MacLaine?”
He shakes his head, then bursts into laughter, throwing a bent arm over his eyes. Which is sort of confusing.
“What?” I ask.
“You,” he mumbles. “Damn, Boots. I think I’ve met my match.”
I do my best not to flinch. I know he’s talking about our sexual compatibility—and he’s right—but I can’t be his “match” in any way at all. Even if I want to, which I do.
I can’t be anyone’s match. Not ever again.
“I’m starving,” I admit.
“So glad you said that.” He jumps up and out of the bed and puts on his pants and socks.
Even now, after enjoying many hours in the presence of a naked Kevin MacLaine, the sight is shocking.
His ass is solid muscle, high and tight above his massive thighs and powerful calves.
The rippling definition of his arms and torso—everything from his tailbone to his thick neck—is enough to make my mouth go dry. I watch him walk back to the fireplace.
“What’cha starin’ at, Boots?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but you’re a beautiful man.”
“So I’ve been downgraded? Last night I was a hunk-a-hunk-a-burnin’ love, and now I’m just beautiful.”
I smile. “You’re a beautiful hunk. How’s that?”
“Fine by me. I’m just damn glad you’re good with whatever I am. How many sandwiches would you like?”
“One should do it, thank you.” I rise from the mattress and grab my clothes off the floor. It’s strange to think that it was only hours ago that Special K ripped them off of me for the first time. It feels like that happened weeks ago. Months.
Like it’s been happening between us for years.
This isn’t good. Because it feels like this is how it’s always been and how it should always be.
“After we eat, I’d like to take you on a little tour of the ranch.”
I yank on the borrowed jeans, my skin prickling. I can’t go on a stroll. What if Niko’s waiting in the woods? I swallow hard.
“I…” I roll my eyes at how ridiculous I’m being. Niko’s not here. If he was, he’d have slipped in during the night and we’d both already be dead. But maybe not. “I should stick close to the cabin.”
Special K turns around, a divot between his brows. “We won’t go far. You’ll enjoy it. It’ll just be the two of us.”
I bite down on my lower lip.
“Scouts’ honor, Boots.”
I rest my hands on my hips. “I thought you were kicked out of the scouts.”
He flashes me a brilliant smile, his single dimple of seduction present and accounted for. He raises two fingers toward the ceiling and recites, “On my ejected-from-scouts honor, I swear I’ll keep you safe and no one will see us.”
I sigh. “Fine. But we’re taking the cat. I can’t leave her alone to be eaten by wolves.”
“We don’t have a wolf population on Yosemite Ranch.”
“Then what was in the woods last night?”
“You sure you want to know?”
I’m not at all sure, actually...
“Feral hog.”
I freeze, horrified. “I’ll get the backpack.”
About thirty minutes later, I’m following Special K as he hikes slightly ahead of me on the narrow trail, the straps of Pussy’s backpack straining to their maximum over his broad shoulders. Honestly, at this point, I’d probably follow him anywhere.
Because I trust him. I can’t believe I just said that to myself, but it’s true.
I trust him.
Pussy’s little head pops out from the top opening of the canvas pack, and she shoots me some side-eye. I swear she’s smirking.
The strangest thought occurs to me...did my cat bolt into the night just so Special K could save her and prove his worthiness to me? But that’s… that’s ridiculous, right? Kitties aren’t matchmakers and they sure can’t plot several moves ahead.
Right?
I narrow my eyes at her. “You damn cat,” I whisper.
Special K glances over his shoulder at me, one eyebrow arched, and the solo dimple locked and loaded. I wish I had a camera to take a photo of these two at this moment. They’re so cute together.
A man and his Pussy.
He’s so gorgeous I can hardly process it.
And he’s a spectacular lover, the best I’ve ever had.
Every moment we spent with each other was magical.
He was precisely tuned into me. He knew what I needed before I did.
And when he wasn’t fucking my brains out, he was either making me laugh or caressing and kissing me with so much tenderness that it choked me up.
How’s a girl supposed to walk away from that? Like, ever?
“You good, Boots?”
“Better than good,” I say, reaching up to stroke the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Not much farther,” he says. “Maybe two klicks.”
“What’s a klick?”
“Oh. A klick is a kilometer.”
He reaches out to grab my hand and cradles it in one of his own. I’m accustomed to the size of his hands now. I was right—he can grab my entire ass in one of his palms. Not that I’m complaining.
I don’t think he is, either.
“That’s about one and a third mile from here,” he says.
“Still not telling me where we’re headed?”
“Don’t want to ruin it.”
“Well, it must be somewhere pretty special, since I saw what you stuffed into the storage compartment of the cat carrier—water, peanut butter crackers, granola, fruit, and shower gel.”
“Shampoo, too.”
“This party’s gonna be lit,” I say, squeezing his hand.
“Damn right, it is.”
The morning sun casts a golden glow on the tall trunks of the evergreens that surround us. Bright-green leaves are popping out on the springtime birch and aspen. The breeze hits the towering pine branches, and they sway gently, creating a dance of light and shadow on the forest floor.
I take a deep breath of the crisp air. I inhale the scent of pine and wildflowers. And enjoy the rest of the hike.
Until the uphill climb comes to an end and we crest the top of the ridge. I thought that the cabin sat at the pinnacle of the mountain. Looks like I was wrong.
When we stop, I look down at the world stretched out before us. The colossal, craggy Sierra Nevadas rising to the west are covered in deep snow. They contrast with the neon green of the spring grazing land below.
As I learned from Special K’s handy-dandy map, most of what I’m looking at belongs to the MacLaines. It’s shocking that one family can own a good chunk of an entire state.
“Right down there,” he says, pointing.
The sound of rushing water grows louder as we approach a bend in the trail, and soon I can see what he’s pointing at. It’s a bubbling creek, the water flashing in the sun as it tumbles over smooth, time-worn rocks.
The stream ends in a beautiful waterfall, something I didn’t expect. “Hey! You said you didn’t have waterfalls on Yosemite Ranch!”
“I said we didn’t have huge waterfalls. Come on. Lean on my shoulders on the trip down, okay? It’s really steep.”
It takes about ten more minutes to make our way down through the brambles and rocks. MacLaine is right—it’s basically a straight drop-off. I lean into the sturdiness of his shoulders, knowing without a doubt that Pussy and I are safe with him.
We arrive at a hidden pool at the base of the waterfall. Steam rises from the crystal-clear surface of the water, and we’re surrounded by vibrant ferns and moss-covered boulders. The mountain views are spectacular.
“Holy shit,” I say.
“Exactly,” he says with a grin. “I figured you might like it.
“So, the waterfall is cold, but the pool is hot?”
“Yep. Geothermal heating.” He carefully removes the pack from his back and sets it on a flat rock. Pussy’s eyes dart nervously to me during the brief transition.
“The water’s for us, not you,” I tell her.
“You’re just here so that we can keep an eye on your crazy ass.
” I lift her out and make sure her harness is snug, then I tie her leash to a thick branch of a nearby bush.
She’ll have some room to roam but not enough freedom to make a hors d’oeuvre out of herself again.
I finish securing Pussy and straighten. Special K’s right here, not an inch away from me. He brings his fingertips to the side of my cheek and slides them along the ledge of my jaw. His hand rests against the curve of my neck.
“You should get naked, Boots.”
“Seems I often end up naked with you.”
“I know. I like it that way.”
“Fine. I’ll get naked if you get naked.”
“Deal.”
“Then let’s see who can get naked first, cowboy. Three, two, one…”
Clothes and boots go flying as the sound of our laughter echoes through the trees. I splash into the water about two seconds before Special K does. He jumps in and swims right up to me, grabbing me around my waist and pulling me tight against him.
“You beat me, Boots.”
“I did.”
His smile softens. Drops of water fall from his curls and race down the masculine planes of his cheeks. The dark blond hairs of his unshaven chin sparkle in the light as his grip on me loosens.
Special K lowers his lips to mine and gives me the sweetest kiss I think I’ve ever had. I feel his hands on me, sliding all along my wet skin. I hear myself make a noise that sounds a lot like a purr.
Then he pulls back and looks into my eyes. “You’re quite the talented stripper,” he says.
Well, fuck.