The wrought iron gates, emblazoned with the ranch’s shooting stars brand, slid open and they pulled through.
Holden drove down a long, tree-lined driveway illuminated by landscape lights, toward a massive house. The mansion looked as if it had been plucked from the pages of a magazine, leaving no doubt in her mind that his family had money.
He proceeded to point out the other buildings on the property. In addition to the main house there was the ranch manager’s cottage, two small staff casitas, a bunkhouse for the ranch hands, a vehicle storage building along with game-processing area, stables and a recreational building that included a kitchen, bar, an arcade and exercise facility.
And then there was his brother Montgomery’s house.
“Your parents built him a house?”
“They hope to build one for each of us on the property, provided our spouses are amenable to the idea. Monty was engaged. Mom and Dad wanted the house ready by the wedding. But it wasn’t meant to be.” Holden shook his head. “So he lives there alone.”
“Oh my goodness,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What?” he asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me your family is rolling in dough? I told you all about Selene.”
“It’s because of your mother that I thought none of this would make a difference to you.”
She wasn’t impressed or swayed by money. It was the exact opposite. “I spent my whole life running away from champagne wishes and caviar dreams.” Her nerves were strung tight, making her babble. “Did I tell you that my mother tried to bribe me to fly home for Christmas with an eight-carat diamond tennis bracelet? And yours are building houses to keep their kids under their thumb.”
“My parents don’t use their money to lord it over us or try to control us. We’re a close-knit family and we all help on the ranch. They worry that after they die we won’t stay that way.”
“I thought you came from salt-of-the-earth type of people. You know, laid-back and easygoing.”
“We are. You know me.” He pulled up by the two-car garage attached to the house and parked. “Look, it’s been the worst night of your life. I get that your emotions are heightened, and this is a sensitive issue, but it shouldn’t be one to concern you. This,” he said, gesturing around at the buildings, “is nothing like the glamour and excess of what you came from in LA. We work from sunup to sundown.” He held out his palm, putting his hand in her lap. “Those calluses aren’t from writing reports at the sheriff’s department,” he said, and she ran her fingers over them, loving the rough feel of the hardened skin. “It’s from busting my tail around here. You don’t need to worry, Grace. I wouldn’t have brought you if I thought you’d be uncomfortable here.”
Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. Into some vortex that wanted to swallow her whole.
She took a deep breath and exhaled her fears before they spiraled further. She trusted Holden with her life. If anyone understood the torture of her childhood, it was him. As closely as she had listened to him, he had with her as well. “I’m sor—”
“Nope,” he said, cutting off her apology.
“I’m feeling raw. Overwhelmed. I saw all of this, and I overreacted.” It wasn’t like her to jump to conclusions. To judge a book by its cover. She was having an out-of-body experience.
“Completely understandable. This has been a rough day.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Let me come around and get you.” He walked to her side, helped her down to the footrail and scooped her into his arms without letting her feet touch the ground.
Mounting the exterior stairs, he held her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. The frigid night air prickled her bare legs since she had left the blanket in the truck.
He carried her up to his apartment. Opening the door, which he apparently kept unlocked, he brought her inside and set her down. Her gaze swept over the apartment as he rushed around, picking up things here and there. His place wasn’t messy or dirty, just lived-in.
The apartment was spacious and well-designed. It had an open floor plan. Hardwood floors throughout. White cabinets and black quartz countertops in the eat-in kitchen. No dining room, but the place didn’t need one. He was a bachelor.
Any dinner parties he wanted to host for friends he could hold in the recreation building.
A cognac-colored leather sofa dominated the living room and faced a large-screen television.
“The bedroom is in here,” he said, leading her to the room in the back. The bed was large and made and looked comfy.
There were little touches in his place, the art chosen, the finishes, the furniture, that elevated the space, making it seem as though it had been decorated by an interior designer. “Did your mom do your place or hire someone?”
“Yeah, she did it herself.”
“She has a good eye,” Grace said.
“Just so you know, I was planning to sleep on the sofa. Unless you didn’t mind sharing the bed. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Warm blue eyes connected with hers as she smiled up at him. “It’s fine.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, bringing out a dimple to tease her. “Which one? Me sleeping on the sofa, or with you?”
With an amused snort, she said, “With me. You make me feel safe. Not uncomfortable. And I think we’ve proven that we can share a bed.”
“I suppose we have.” He leaned against the wall. “Well, then, I promise to keep my hands and mouth to myself this time.”
But she wasn’t so sure that was a promise she wanted him to keep. Resisting Holden was a constant struggle. One she sensed herself finally ready to lose.
Her body urged her to close the small space between. There was nothing but honesty and desire in his expression, and all she wanted was to kiss him. To be held by him.
To make love to him.
“Let me show you to the bathroom.” He dropped his gaze. “I’m sure you want to get cleaned up.”
Soot coated her skin, and the smell of smoke permeated her nightgown and hair. “I could use a shower.”
He brought her into the en suite bathroom. The tile and stonework were masculine, but there was still enough airiness to it that it was spa-like. The skylights would provide tons of natural light in the daytime. After showing her where he kept his things, he turned and started the large shower that had smooth stone flooring and two showerheads.
She took off his sheriff’s jacket and handed it to him.
He glimpsed her in her nightgown, his gaze lingering as that warmth swept over again. Then he blinked several times before heading for the door.
“I’ll uh—” he cleared his throat “—I’ll get you something to wear.” He left, closing the door behind him.
Quickly, she stripped off the nightgown and socks.
The hot water sluiced over her skin, loosening the knots in her muscles. At first, the water ran gray as it rinsed the soot from her skin. She’d gotten so lucky. The EMT didn’t think there was any damage to her lungs. He’d found no soot in her nose or throat.
Thanks to Holden, she was alive and well.
With no other choice, she used his shampoo and bodywash, but she took an odd pleasure in the thought of smelling like him. Cedar and sandalwood.
She didn’t take too long, knowing he would want to shower as well. While she was towel-drying, he knocked on the door and opened it. He then came in, barely giving her a chance to cover herself with the towel.
“Sorry,” he said, holding out some clothes, staggering to a stop. His gaze raked over her, his eyes heating with interest.
She took the T-shirt and boxer shorts he offered. “Thank you.” At her words, he seemed to snap out of his daze with a shake of his head.
Diverting that mesmerizing gaze of his, he glanced down at the floor. “I’ll get you some water.” As he turned to leave, he almost bumped into the door, but managed to avoid a collision in the nick of time and shut it behind him.
After she threw on the clothes, which hung on her figure, she finger-combed the long, damp tangles out of her unruly brown waves. The entire time she wished for a wide-tooth comb. And a diffuser. And her hair products, without which she had no hopes of winning the battle to tame her rebellious curls. In the morning, her coils would be a frizzy hot mess.
After the horrors of the night that were still churning in her brain it shouldn’t bother her. But it did.
Because she was with Holden, and she wanted to be at her best.
Not look her worst.
She was too weary to give it much more thought. It paled in comparison to the fact that they both could have died tonight.
“You’re alive,” she whispered to herself in the mirror, putting everything in proper perspective.
The rest didn’t matter—that she was homeless, had lost all her possessions, her wallet, even her phone.
It was time she started living and stopped making excuses. Moving here to Wyoming was a good start, despite what was going on, but in a strange way, she realized her troubles had also brought her closer to Holden. Opened her eyes to what had been right in front of her all along.
Every time she was near him, he made her feel capable and beautiful. She was tired of not giving in to that magnetic draw, that sizzling heat he sparked with a single look.
Life was too short not to act on something that was special and real and true.
She stepped out into the bedroom.
He brought her a glass of water. “Here you go. I also set out a Gatorade for you. Grape. It was the only other option besides orange, and I know you don’t like that flavor.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to shower.”
She nodded. Turning, she headed for the living room.
“Grace,” he said from the doorway, and she looked back at him. “I love that you don’t need makeup or anything. I mean, you’re a natural beauty. Even after nearly dying, you, well, you take my breath away.”
Her face heated and the butterflies were back. She swallowed hard against that deep, blossoming attraction tugging at her. Before she had a chance to respond, he ducked into the bathroom and started the shower.
He knew just the right thing to stay. To put her at ease. To make her feel sexy. She had always wanted that in a guy, someone who didn’t need the pretense and flash. Someone who could see her at her worst and still think she was beautiful.
She sipped the water, letting the cool liquid slide down her parched throat. Once again, it was what she needed. She hadn’t realized she was so thirsty. She finished the entire glass and turned to the Gatorade. The electrolytes hit the spot, refreshing her body the way the shower had soothed her mind.
While the shower ran, she took in his apartment. Looking over things more closely. His magazine subscriptions on the table. What food he had in the fridge and his pantry. Family pictures and artwork displayed on the walls.
It painted a different picture of him. One she could see herself fitting into.
The shower stopped and a moment later the bathroom door swung open. He came into the bedroom wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist.
Air stalled in her throat. He was really good-looking, so ridiculously male that her belly did a long, slow roll.
Tanned, well-muscled chest. Sculpted arms.
Beads of water glistened in his hair. She found herself staring and couldn’t stop.
“I forgot to bring something to change into in the bathroom with me,” he said.
She smiled. “It’s okay. It’s your house.” Her mouth went dry. “I need some more water.” She held up the glass and headed for the door.
He strode around the bed toward the closet on her side. “You’ve got to stay hydrated.”
As they crossed the space, they found themselves face-to-face in the middle of the room at the foot of the bed. She stepped to the right while he went in the same direction at the same time, their movements keeping them in lockstep. They both smiled. Tried again, only to find themselves still eye to eye.
“Thanks for letting me bunk with you,” she said, her voice sounding husky to her ears.
“Of course.” His gaze fell over her, hot and intense. “You look good in my clothes.”
“You look better out of them.” She had no idea where that came from. The truth had simply slipped from her lips.
Her heart picked up a pounding pace, desire sliding through. She wanted him to kiss her. As she had the other night, but this time she didn’t want anything to hold either of them back.
His gaze dipped to her mouth, but he tensed as though intending to keep his earlier promise of not touching her. So she stepped closer, her feet in between his, the T-shirt she wore brushing against his towel. He put a palm to her cheek, his thumb stroking across her lower lip, making her thighs quiver.
She had never experienced this kind of need before and couldn’t stand it any longer. Sliding her hands in his hair, she rose on her toes, but he was the one to bring his mouth to hers.
The kiss was soft and sinfully sweet, aimed straight at her heart, until she slipped her tongue passed his lips and delved deeper. His arms came around her, pulling her against him while he shuffled their bodies back into the doorway with her spine to the jamb.
Just as she surrendered to him, no longer fighting her feelings, there was a quick rap at the front door and then it opened. They jerked apart as his mother strode in.
“Oh my,” Holly said. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Did all the Powells make a habit of knocking and entering a room without waiting for a response?
Holly looked as embarrassed as Grace felt. “I only popped over to give you some essentials, honey.” Wearing a robe tied closed over her pajamas and boots, she came deeper into the apartment and handed Grace a wicker basket that had a white terry cloth robe rolled up, a new toothbrush, deodorant, a ladies’ disposable razor, a boar’s head brush, scented lotion, an organic ooh-la-la face cream that Selene would’ve approved of, mascara and lip balm. There were even a few sprigs of a plant that had waxy white berries, tied in a bundle with a red bow.
“This is so sweet of you. Thank you. Did you put this together just now?”
Holly nodded. “Oh, that’s nothing, considering you’ve lost absolutely everything.”
Grace held up the plant and smelled it, but it didn’t have a scent. “What is this? It’s so pretty.”
“Mistletoe,” Holly said with a mischievous smile. “But you two clearly don’t need it. I’m never wrong about these things.”
“Mom.” He shook his head with an annoyed expression. “You’re subtle as a sledgehammer.”
Holly ignored him. “Holden will give you my phone number. I want you to text me a long list of things you need. I’m going to go to the store, first thing in the morning, to get you some shoes, boots, clothes, a coat. You’re so tiny I don’t have anything that would fit you. Please, if there is anything you want me to pick up, let me know. No matter what it is. There is no shame between us ladies. We’ve got to stick together with all these men around.” Holly leaned in and gave her a quick, tight hug. “Seriously. I expect a long list, or I’ll just hound you for one.”
“She will,” Holden said.
Grace believed them. She would’ve protested about the shopping since she didn’t take well to charity, but she was in dire straits, with only a nightgown and a pair of socks to her name. It would take a couple of days to get her debit and credit cards replaced before she’d be able to buy anything on her own. “Thank you. That’s very generous. I’ll reimburse you for everything.”
She might have to take out a small personal loan to do so, but she didn’t want to be indebted to anyone.
“Don’t be silly,” Holly said. “It’s the least we could do. I’m glad you’re okay. Both of you.” She hurried to the door. “As you were. Go back to what you two were doing before I interrupted.” The door closed. On the other side, Holly gave a little woo-hoo of cheer.
Grace couldn’t fight back a smile, and neither could Holden.
“Your mom seems pretty fantastic.”
“She is. In small doses.”
Chuckling together, they went into the bedroom. She set the basket on the nightstand and turned to him.
“Grace, about that kiss.” The hesitation in his voice made her get closer to him, erasing the distance. “The last few days have been traumatic for you. Downright awful. Maybe it’s best for us to take a step back.”
Her gut clenched. “You sound like you don’t want this.” Unease twisted through her. “Like you don’t want me.”
Had she read him and the mood wrong? Was it his mother walking in on them? Did he just want a secret friends-with-benefits arrangement?
“Don’t want you?” Holden groaned. “You have no idea what you do to me. I want this with you more than I’ve wanted anything. It’s just that you’ve been through a lot, and I shouldn’t take advantage.”
She put her hand on his bare chest, and he trembled beneath her palm. “Yes. You really should.”
Still, he hesitated. “I love you, Grace. I don’t want to mess this up by rushing. And I won’t pretend that this is just sex for me because it isn’t. It’s more.”
She stared at him dumbfounded, her heart thrumming, her blood singing, her mind spinning around the three words he’d declared.
I. Love. You.
“I don’t want you to regret this in the morning,” he continued. “I won’t be able to hide how I feel or minimize it. You’re not worried you’ll wish we had waited?”
“No,” she said on a breath as light as a caress. “I almost died. I almost lost this chance.” To be with him and hear those precious words uttered straight from his heart. “The only thing I would regret is if you don’t make love to me tonight.” She ached to have him.
His sky blue eyes glinted and then his lips crashed hard into hers, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He grabbed her by the hips and brought her down on the bed with him, their limbs in a tangle that had his towel falling to the side. She wanted to explore him, see all of him, feel him, taste him. But he flipped her onto her back and was on her again, his mouth as hungry for hers as though they had waited years for this instead of six months.
Six long months they’d spent getting to know each other, sharing, confiding, flirting, falling so hard that they hadn’t even realized what was happening.
She tore her mouth from his, capturing his face in her hands, and stared in his eyes. “I love you.” Her heart swelled to overflowing. “This is more for me, too.”
“Good. I’m happy to hear that.” He grinned, and there were those dimples that made her knees go weak.
He pressed his lips to her throat. His teeth scraped lightly against the tendon running up the side of her neck and then he was kissing her again.
Every nerve ending flamed, stoking the need to have him. She matched his ferocity with her own, forgetting to breathe as he stripped the clothes from her body. Closing her eyes, she wanted to drink in every sensation of what was about to happen.
Finally. Making love with Holden Powell while knowing that he loved her so much that he’d do anything to protect her. Even run into a burning building for her.
She took it all in, the scent of arousal, the heat they generated, the feel of his calloused hands on her sensitive skin everywhere he touched, the taste of him on her tongue. She moaned from the bittersweet pleasure, wanting to drown in the sensations.
More. She wanted so much more.
And he gave it to her.