She remembered this part of the ranch, though she hadn’t traveled this way for years. They arrived at the pond where her dad used to take them to fish. There was a small cabin just up the bank from the pond. It was just a one-room shack, really, but Brea recalled it had a fireplace and a bed and a sofa.

Gage stopped, got off his horse and came around to hers.

“I do know how to dismount, you know,” she said, looking down at him.

He gave her one those now-familiar half smiles she found incredibly disarming. “It’s more fun this way.” He held his arms out and she slid into them, letting him draw her to the ground. He held on to her for a few seconds, his fingers burning into the skin of her waist, before he stepped back and tethered the horses to a tree near the water.

He retrieved a blanket from the saddlebag, then pulled out a sack containing . . . something.

“Come on over here,” he said.

She thought they’d go inside, but she walked down the bank and saw him spreading the blanket out on the hill.

“What are you doing?”

He took a six-pack and a bag of chips out of the bag.

“It’s warm tonight. Thought we’d stretch out on the blanket, look at the stars and have a snack.”

She skirted her gaze to the chips and beer. “That’s the snack?”

“Yeah.”

She laughed, then sat on the blanket.

Gage stretched out on the blanket, popped open two cans of beer and handed one to her. He laid the bag of chips between them.

This had to be the strangest date she’d ever been on. No, strange wasn’t even the right word for it. Unique was the appropriate word choice.

“I like coming out here because the stars feel like they’re bearing right down on you,” Gage said, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky.

“You come out here often?”

“Yeah. Usually in the summer, on the weekends. I’ll stay in the cabin overnight, get an early start on fishing.”

Brea smiled. “My dad used to bring us girls out here when we were little. He taught us to fish in that pond.”

Gage turned his gaze to her. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” She sipped her beer. “I remember countless mornings Dad dragged us out of bed before dawn, fishing poles and tackle already loaded in the back of the pickup. We’d spend hours out here watching the sun come up. Dad said it was how we learned patience.”

Gage laughed. “It’s a good way to teach kids to be still.”

She nodded. “He didn’t much appreciate us jabbering away and scaring the fish. And teaching three impatient, wiggly, talkative little girls to shut up and be still was no easy feat.”

“Your dad sounds like he was a great man.”

“He was.”

“What about your mom?”

She grinned. “She’d pack up scrambled egg sandwiches to take along for breakfast, and cold fried chicken for lunch, but wouldn’t come with us. She said it was our time with our father. I think she said that so she could have half a day of peace and quiet to read.”

“So you got your love of reading from your mama?”

“I guess so. She was always busy doing something around the ranch. But whenever she managed to sit down she always had a book in her hand.”

“Must have been hard to lose them both.”

She stared out across the water, the memories of her parents still sweet, still painful. “It devastated us. It left a gaping hole in all three of us. Especially Valerie, who had to suddenly become mother to us all while she was barely a teenager.”

“Your uncle, I assume, was no great shakes as a parent.”

She snorted and grabbed a handful of chips. “He was legally our guardian, but he didn’t know the first thing about raising children. The man didn’t have a warm bone in his entire body.”

“Yeah, I got that impression having worked for him. Must have been hard on all of you.”

“We had Lila, and she was full of love and hugs. But it wasn’t the same. No one can replace your mother.”

She munched on chips and wished she hadn’t revealed so much. It made her heart hurt to relive the anguish of losing her parents. And now she’d laid a melancholy downer on her time with Gage. Great. Just great.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the can of beer.

He reached over and cupped her neck, drawing her attention to his face. “Sorry for what?”

“For dragging sadness and death and such a depressing conversation into our night together.”

“Hey, I’m the one who brought the topic up. If I didn’t want to know how you felt about it all, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Still, I could have just been vague.”

“Why? I’m here with you because I want to know about you. I want to know how you feel, who you are. And that means where you came from, what events shaped you.”

Who was this guy? Cowboys weren’t . . . deep. Not the ones she’d always known, anyway. Even the city guys she’d dated couldn’t care less about who she was or where she’d come from.

It was clear Gage was some kind of alien life form and not a regular guy.

“So now it’s your turn. Tell me about yourself.”

“Not much to tell, really. I was born in Denver, raised there.”

She cocked her head to the side. “A city boy?”

He nodded. “Yup. A city boy.”

“I wouldn’t have imagined it. So where did your love of horses come from?”

“I had a friend who had a ranch, and I spent summers there starting when I was twelve. It was either that or trips to Europe with my parents, and I wasn’t interested.”

Her jaw went slack. “Your parents went to Europe every summer?”

“Yeah.”

“You must come from a wealthy family.”

“You could say that.”

She realized she didn’t know Gage at all, and what she thought she knew about him was dead wrong. “So you stayed with your friend on the ranch instead of summering with your parents? Why?”

He shrugged. “I liked the horses there, liked working with them. Gave me a chance to do something physical that meant something, rather than loafing and skiing. I’m not much of a skier.”

“Bet that’s blasphemy to those who come from Colorado.”

He laughed. “Yeah, my family wasn’t too happy that I didn’t take to skiing. Or their jet-setting lifestyle.”

“So how did you end up here?”

“After a couple years in college I realized that the family business just wasn’t for me. I dropped out and got a job on a ranch. Been working with horses ever since.”

“And your family?”

His smile disappeared. “My father died about five years ago.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Gage.”

“I wasn’t very close to him. My mom remarried a couple years ago.”

“I see. Did you go to the wedding?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because that family really isn’t my family anymore. I never really belonged there.”

“How can you say that? It’s your mother.”

“True, but I had a younger brother, too, and he’s everything . . . I’m not. He’s a great skier, went to college, continued on the family business.”

“So? I’m sure they don’t love you any less because you chose a different path.”

He snorted. “You don’t know my family.”

She squeezed his arm. “You can’t mean that.”

“Hey, I’m fine with it. I chose who and what I wanted to be, and they disagreed with my choice. I’m free of all their expectations now.”

Brea sighed, wondering how it felt to have that kind of pressure on you to be someone you knew in your heart you couldn’t be. It made her feel very lucky that she had her sisters. They might fight and argue, and she might have left, but she knew she could always come home, that no matter what separated them, they would always love one another.

“Family should love you no matter what,” she said.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to work. In some families it doesn’t. And when it doesn’t, you’re better off without.”

“I’m sorry for that, Gage.”

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Don’t be sorry for me. I like my life. I’m free to go where I want, do what I want and be whoever I want to be. No one has any expectations of me and I like it like that.”

She stared at him, and it finally dawned on her why he’d said he was unable to commit to a relationship. And that’s why he drifted from place to place—because he didn’t want anyone to tie him down like his family had tried to do. Now she understood and she admired even more his ability to be his own man.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. You’re just . . . different.”

His lips curled. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Trust me, it’s not a bad thing.”

“Good. Then come lay down next to me and look at the stars.”

She situated herself on her back next to him and stared at the clear night sky. “I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”

“You should do it more often.”

She probably should. She’d forgotten how awe-inspiring the night sky was, especially out here in the country where no city lights dimmed the darkness and the awesome cosmos could shine down on them in all its glory. Gage was right. She hadn’t appreciated this as a child. Whenever she looked up in the city, street and building lights masked the stars. Out here, nothing did. She lifted her arm and traced the Big and Little Dipper with her fingertip, then scanned the constellations to locate her favorite star systems.

She was so lost in stargazing that it was awhile before she realized Gage had stopped speaking. She turned her head and found him on his side, his head propped in his hand, staring at her.

“You’re supposed to be looking at the stars, not me.”

“I did look at the stars. Now I’m looking at you.”

“Well, stop it.”

He traced her cheek with one finger, and chills popped out on her skin.

“You don’t like when men pay attention to you.”

“That’s not true.”

He shifted, scooting over toward her. He raised up and loomed over her, planting one hand on each side of her ribcage. “Is that right? So me leaning over you like this doesn’t bother you?”

Oh, it bothered her plenty. But not in the way he thought. “No.”

He moved again, this time straddling her, his crotch aligned with hers. He held his weight off her with the powerful muscles of his arms and thighs. But his body on top of her was so intimate she could barely breathe. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs, and if he shifted just a little more, he could be rubbing all that delicious denim against her panties. She got wet just thinking about it.

“How about this? Does this bother you?”

She was finding it hard to breathe. Sexual arousal got in the way of all her synapses firing correctly. “No.”

“Just ‘no’? That’s all you have to say?”

Her heart pounded, her br**sts felt full and achy. She wanted Gage to touch them, to lift her top and fit his mouth around the throbbing buds. Did he really want to have a conversation with her now? Couldn’t he read her breathy signals?

“What’s wrong, Brea?” He leaned forward, captured her wrists in his hands and moved her arms to her sides. “This bother you?”

“No.” She’d squeaked the word out, all she was capable of now. Her entire body, including her tongue, felt swollen, thick with desire and need.

“Is there something you want?”

Why was he torturing her like this? Couldn’t he tell? Her bra was flimsy, and so was the top. She was sure her hard ni**les were poking through, her arousal evident for him to see.

Gage had a firm hold on her wrists, but she knew he’d let go of her if she asked. And for some reason him holding her like this, his weight on her, was so damn exciting. She felt his erection, knew he was affected, too, and that stimulated her even more. Unable to resist her body’s primal instincts, she lifted her hips, searching for that intimate male-to-female contact.

“I like that, Brea. Do it again.”

Why was it so easy for him to say exactly what was on his mind, and so difficult for her to put voice to her own needs? She lifted, rocking her pelvis against him.

He leaned toward her, his breath washing over her face. “That makes my dick hard.”

He spread his body over hers, and now she could really feel his cock, hot and hard, pressing insistently against her. He nudged her legs apart so his shaft wedged between her legs, right at the sweet spot of her pussy. She let out a moan and he surged against her.

“Like that?”

“Yes.”

“Want more?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me what you see happening between us tonight, Brea.”

four

dear god. gage wanted her to spell it out for him? Wasn’t it obvious? They were body-to-body, though still fully clothed. He could rectify that easily enough. Or they could do it without taking their clothes off. At this point she didn’t much care. She just wanted to feel him inside her. She tried to shift, to spread her legs, to give him a subtle—or maybe not so subtle—message, but he had her effectively pinned to the ground.

He shook his head, his blue eyes boring into her. “Not with your body, honey. Tell me what you want. Say it.”