Hearts Unleashed Read online

  “Seriously?” Her voice was sweet. Too sweet. “You don’t play the innocent well. At all. You think I wouldn’t notice you checking me out? Not to mention you just swerved.”

  His cheeks flamed. “Do you really want to talk about playing innocent?”

  “Oh, because you never—” Her hesitation was momentary. “Play.”

  “Not in front of other people.” His face felt feverish, as if he were burning up.

  “You never let a girl watch you jerk off?” Her tone was innocent, almost nonchalant, which made it all the more shocking.

  And even hotter.

  He shifted in his seat. There was no way to answer that question, not without going down a road he knew they had to avoid. Things between them were complicated enough without throwing that into the mix.

  Like a lifesaver tossed to a drowning man, a beacon of light appeared on the horizon. His mother’s house. “Hey look. We’re here.” He swerved into the driveway.

  “How long will you be?” She placed her hand over the lock.

  “I think you should come in with me.” He turned off the engine. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Mom will probably want to tell me off for not taking better care of myself, but you’ll be more comfortable inside than in the car.” As soon as he said the words, he saw she was staring at his pants. He looked down at the unmistakable bulge of his dick.

  Goddammit.

  He hopped of the car as fast as he could, catching the side of his head on the doorframe. Fuck. Rubbing his head, he jogged up the front stairs, his cock begging for relief from the unbearable pressure. As he rapped on the door of his mother’s house, there was only one thought in his mind: Please let Mom be home before I do something really stupid.

  No answer. He used his key to let himself in. “Mom?” he called. “You here?”

  “In the kitchen, Johnny! Come on in.”

  Thank you, God.

  He tucked his dick into the band of his underwear to disguise his erection, wishing it could instantly deflate. He turned around in the doorway and waved, inviting Katie to come inside.

  His mother stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. She wore an apron that rivaled the wallpaper in the sheer amount of flowers covering its surface. She tucked her grey hair out of her face as she greeted him. “It’s a bit early for you to be home, isn’t it?”

  Before he could answer, Katie stepped through the front door. “Hello, Mrs. Rathborne.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest.” His mother squeezed Katie’s hand. “Come on in. I don’t get a lot of company. If I’d known, I would’ve made lunch. Or at the least, some tea and cookies.”

  Katie grinned. “That’s all right. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He quickly jumped into the conversation. “Mom, this is Katie Locke. Her father is my boss. We were out running errands so I just stopped by to get some more of my clothes and stuff.”

  “Sure, sure,” his mother said, still smiling. “It’s all been washed and folded, up in your room. Now, Katie, you come in here with me and we’ll see what we can put together for you.”

  Katie shot him an amused look, following his mother into the kitchen. He watched her look around the kitchen. Like the living room, it was pleasant, comfortably worn—if you could ignore the explosion of flowers on every possible surface.

  “Mmm, the coffee smells good. Vanilla?”

  “Why, yes. You’ve a good nose.” His mother beamed, reaching for a fresh cup. “I like to add a teaspoon of vanilla extract over the regular coffee grounds before I brew it. Gives it a gentle touch of vanilla flavor. It’s my little secret. And much less expensive thank buying the flavored kind.

  “I’ll have to try it.”

  John’s mouth was hanging open. He slammed it shut. Who is this well-mannered woman and what has she done to Katie Locke? “I tried calling a couple of nights ago. You didn’t answer.”

  “I didn’t see your number, dear. You sure you called?”

  “Yes…and it was late,” he said.

  “Must’ve been at Esther’s playing bridge.” His mother brought over a covered cake plate from the counter, set it on the small kitchen table, and lifted the heavy glass top to reveal three-quarters of a fresh yellow cake with thick chocolate frosting. “Have a seat while I find some plates.”

  “That late?” His mother was avoiding answering.

  “Oh! That looks delicious,” Katie said, lightly punching him in the shoulder.

  His felt his stomach rumble in agreement. It had been a while since he had the ham sandwich. “I’ll have a slice.”

  “Guests first.” His mother’s hand made a shooing motion. “Go and get your things together while I take care of Miss Locke.”

  “Call me Katie.” She looked around the kitchen. “I’ll help set the table. Where are the forks?”

  “In the drawer right there.” His mother reached past her usual entertaining plates for the good china, used only at Christmas. Was his mother trying to get rid of him to talk with Katie? Or to avoid his inquisition as to her whereabouts? Oh, god. Was she on a date?

  Leaving his mother cutting huge slices of cake, he bounded up the steps to his room. Nope, not thinking of her on a date. Nor what the hell she would’ve been doing that late. Nope, no way. He grabbed the laundry neatly folded on the end of his bed, stuffing it into a duffel bag as though his life depended on it.

  When he returned downstairs, Katie and his mother were sipping steaming cups of vanilla coffee, chatting about their favorite desserts and how they were both looking forward to the first snow of the Montana winter.

  “I’m all packed up. Ready to go.”

  The two women ignored him, continuing their conversation.

  “This is delicious,” Katie said around a big mouthful of cake. “Mrs. Rathborne, if you’ll give me the recipe for this, I’ll actually learn to bake.”

  “Of course! I’ll print out a copy for you.”

  His eyebrow arched. “You’re going to learn to bake? Instead of just burning banana bread?”

  Her eyes narrowed at the insult, but instead she turned back to his mother. “I hear you’ve got a recipe for lasagna that’s pretty good too.”

  His mother flushed. “It’s nothing special.”

  “Not according to John.”

  To his immense embarrassment, his mother leaned across the table to pat his hand, exactly as if he were five years old. “He’s a good boy. Even if he makes his mother worry.”

  “My bags are upstairs,” he said. “Katie, would you mind giving me a hand carrying them down?”

  “Um, sure.” She got up slowly, and followed him toward the stairs.

  “I’ll just wrap up some more of this cake so you can take it with you,” Mom called, happily bustling around the kitchen.

  He waited until they were inside his room and shut the door. He turned around to find her studying his private space, just like he’d appraised hers. For a moment, he wondered what she thought of it. It was comfortable but plain, with few keepsakes. He’d never gotten around to unpacking properly, even though his mother had urged him to make himself at home and even offered to unpack for him. The house just didn’t feel permanent.

  She nudged the duffel bag at the end of the bed. “Please don’t tell me you need help carrying this?”

  He sat on the side of the single bed, elbows on knees and his hands hanging in front of him. “I wanted to talk to you. About my mom.”

  “She’s nice.”

  “I’ve never seen her so happy,”

  She walked over near the window. “It’s not unusual for a mother to be happy to see her son.”

  “It’s not me. It’s you.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” John ran his fingers through his hair. “Though it’s been so long since I’ve brought a girl home I shouldn’t be surprised she treats this like a special occasion.”

  “Oh, really. So, when was the last time you brought a girl home?
”

  He rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans, his heel tapping the carpeted floor feverishly. “Five years ago. Her name was Morgan.”

  “Morgan.”

  “Yeah. I married her.”

  She spun around, her eyes wide. “Are you telling me—that—”

  “No. I’m not married now, not anymore. We got divorced a couple of years ago. No kids.”

  “Not that your personal life is any of my business. I’m your employer, not your therapist.”

  “Right. I’m only bringing it up because my mom never warmed up to anyone as quickly as she did to you just now. Not even Morgan. Especially not Morgan.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t see.” He got up and paced across the small bedroom. “Those two never got along. It was a huge point of contention between us. No matter how hard Morgan tried, my mother never accepted her. The three of us would sit through family dinners in total silence. Eventually, there weren’t any more family dinners at all.”

  “Your marriage ended because your mother didn’t like your wife?” He could hear the suspicion in her voice.

  He sighed, turning around to face her. “No. My marriage ended because my wife was sleeping with another guy.”

  “Oh. And you caught her?”

  “No. I was deployed. A buddy of mine caught them.”

  “Maybe your mom sensed something from the beginning.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. Red face. Red ears. Arms crossed and toe tapping. She was mad. Madder then he’d ever seen. And though he wanted to question why, all he could do was pick up the duffel bag and an extra pair of boots.

  “Give me those.” She grabbed the boots. “Don’t want your mother getting the idea we went up to your room for a reason or anything. Like some horny teenagers.”

  He gulped, following her out of the room.

  His mother waited at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re sure I can’t get you some lunch?”

  “We really do have to be going. If you need anything, just call me. And don’t forget to take your medication.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” His mother shook her head. “I’ve been doing just fine all these years while you deployed, dear.” She handed Katie a huge portion of yellow cake in a large Tupperware container. “It was so nice to meet you. John, you make sure she eats something! She’s so small.”

  Katie grinned and took the cake. “You can be sure I’ll eat this, Mrs. Rathborne. Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, no, dear. Thank you.” To his amazement, his mother took her by the shoulders and enveloped her in a massive hug. “Just call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” Katie whispered. “We will.”

  John’s eyes settled beyond the women to a photo on the wall. Himself and Dirk in uniform. His chest tightened. Stay focused, soldier. You can’t protect anyone if you get involved. He’d made the mistake of letting Katie under his skin. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

  Chapter 21

  Katie balanced the phone receiver on one shoulder and held the file open in her hands. “There a nurse around, Dad? I want to make sure it’s safe to give you the week’s report.”

  “Safe!” He took the bait. “Listen, you! I had a mild heart attack, and I’m recovering nicely. I’ll be home any day now, so don’t you get no funny ideas of treating me like an invalid.”

  If his retort was any indication, her dad was recovering fast. “Well, okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Now you’re making me nervous. What bombshell are you going to drop this time?”

  Behind her the kitchen door clicked open. She just managed to suppress a flinch. Turning her head a tad she saw Joanne, the new housekeeper, step into the kitchen. It had been three weeks since Joanne started working for them, and Katie still found herself surprised by her presence.

  Joanne smiled. She was an older woman with two sons in school, and was glad of the chance to earn a bit extra during the week. The woman held a tray of empty mugs and a plate with one slice of banana bread still on it and mouthed the word “coffee.”

  “Hang on a moment, Dad.” Katie cradled the receiver against her chest. “Is this for me?”

  “I’ve just been taking everyone a cup of coffee and a bite. You’re the last. I couldn’t find you in the stables.”

  “I was working in the office.” Katie lifted the remaining mug of coffee and the plate off the tray, setting it on the bench beside her. “Thanks.”

  “I was just going to do the dishes,” Joanne said. “Will that disturb you?”

  “Not at all.” Katie smiled and returned to her call. “You still there, Dad? That was Joanne.”

  “How’s she working out?”

  “I don’t know what we’d do without her.”

  “Can’t wait to meet her,” her dad said. “When you first told me you were looking for a housekeeper, I was flabbergasted. But the more I think of it, the more I can’t believe we never thought of this ourselves. John’s a smart man.”

  John’s suggestion about the housekeeper had been a good one. Since Joanne had arrived, Katie had taken on most of her dad’s duties around the ranch. Between the two of them they’d accomplished more than she could’ve alone.

  “Katie? You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Don’t leave me in suspense! How are you doing?”

  She decided to take pity on him. “Great, Dad. We’ve moved the cattle to the north pasture, strengthened all the fences on that side and are just about to start on the hill paddocks.”

  “All the fences?” Her dad whistled. “If this is how productive the ranch is with you in the saddle, we should have got a housekeeper a long time ago.”

  She grimaced. The rapid progress of the fences was nothing to do with her, everything to do with John, or rather his absence. He spent most of his days repairing the fences with Peter. She genuinely couldn’t make up her mind if he was devoted to the job—or avoiding her.

  That’s absurd. A big soldier like that running from little me?

  But ever since they’d left his mother’s house, there had been something . . . .

  “What? But I’m not tired—yes, nurse, you’re the boss.” Her dad sounded resigned. “I’ve got to go. Anything else, Katie?”

  “No. We got this, Dad. The ranch is in good hands.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Her dad’s voice was replaced by an electronic beep. Call over.

  She stood still a moment, savoring the warm feeling left by her dad’s confidence. At least someone believes in me.

  The sounds of splashing water reminded her of Joanne’s presence. She replaced the receiver and turned around. Even up to her elbows in dishwashing water and her curves hidden beneath an apron, Joanne was an attractive woman. She was comfortably feminine, wearing sensible shoes, but with bright lipstick. The wedding ring she wore prominently on one hand did not stop her from teasing the ranch hands or them from enjoying her jokes. Katie liked her—although she couldn’t help but feel that next to Joanne she came up short.

  “Your father?” Joanne asked comfortably. “How is he getting on?”

  “Good,” she said. “He’ll be home soon, I hope.”

  “You’ll be looking forward to it.”

  She picked up her coffee cup. “Yes. The house feels different without him.”

  “I know the feeling. When my boys go away every year to their grandmother’s, the house feels so empty. Like someone died.”

  Katie shivered. Her death seemed to be the central theme of her nightmares lately. When she was in the house alone, every creak sounded like a footstep. She found herself lying awake in the middle of the night, waiting for a blow to fall from an unseen hand. Some nights she’d look out the window to the bunkhouse, hoping John was still awake and on guard.

  “You said everyone else had some banana bread but me? Does that include John?” At Joanne’s nod, she stiffened. “Where is he now?”

  �
��In his office,” Joanne said. “You’re not finishing your coffee?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got to catch John before he heads out again.”

  “The weather’s terrible. The hail is falling hard and fast. I just missed getting pelted.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She marched across the yard, the files clutched to her chest.

  The weather was mild, but not pleasant, especially after the warmth of the kitchen. The hail had stopped but the lingering rain had a chill to it that warned winter was getting closer. Her chest thumped with a mixture of adrenaline and anticipation as she flounced into the equipment barn. She flung open the door to the foreman’s office.

  John scrambled to his feet as she stepped into the room, Koda running over for pets. “What—”

  Perhaps he thought the rain would keep her trapped inside the house? Like some princess. She smashed the files on the desk so hard some of the mail within slid out. “I think you’ve been working on the fences too long.”

  He put a hand on the desk to steady himself as he slowly eased back into his chair. “What are you talking about?”

  She plopped herself into the chair on the other side of the table. “Your ordering’s getting even worse, old man. We’re getting billed for two months’ worth of hay, when it should only be one month.”

  “What?” He held out his hand for the receipt. “Let me see.”

  “Did you double-order again?”

  “I just don’t understand your bookkeeping. It’s all chicken scratch. How can you keep this straight? Look at this.” He flicked the file open, searching for the master record. “There. See? All your numbers straddle both lines.”

  She leaned across the table. “So? I remember which is which.”

  “Which is great for you—but not for the rest of us.” He tapped a number. “Did you pay in or out? You need to have a clear column for accounts paid and accounts receivable. It’s just common sense.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but noticed his eyes were no longer on the file. Heat inched its way from her neck to her ears. Her nipples pebbled under his gaze, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip.