Blake lost his appetite, his train of thought and any chance he’d finish with her in thirty lousy minutes.
***
Willow was dead on her feet. She hadn’t worked a full nine-hour shift, but she had tried to make up for lost time once she’d hit the jobsite.
Three hours late.
Lord. Blake’s half an hour of playtime had stretched into two hours. By the time he’d coated her body with syrup, licked it all off and taken his own sweet, sticky time making love to her, they’d both needed a shower.
Once Willow was faced with soaping Blake’s big, hard body and bulging muscles, well, racing off to work had been the dead last thing on her mind. She’d worked over one big, hard muscle in particular until he’d whimpered.
Yes, that shower had been refreshing in oh-so-many ways.
Still…she was tired. No sleep, indulging in more sex in the last two days than she’d had in her entire twenty-five years tuckered a girl out. She had every intention of driving straight home and snuggling between her sheets.
So why did she find herself cruising down Main Street?
Because the man was like a damn drug.
She inched past LeRoy’s Tavern. Holy moly. The place was hopping for a Monday night. Mandy was probably raking in killer tips.
I don’t work on Mondays.
If Mandy wasn’t around that meant Blake was doing everything by himself.
Willow hit the brakes, spun a u-turn and bumped into the rear parking lot. The back door was unlocked. Her clothes were filthy. She pulled one of Mandy’s extra blouses from her locker and slipped on the denim skirt she’d had in her duffel bag, ignoring the teasing scent of cherries. After she scrubbed her hands, she headed up front.
Blake was inundated.
Even Boy Scouts needed a little help now and then.
He didn’t acknowledge her until she’d sidled up beside him. “What do you want me to do?”
“Will? What’re you…?” Blake ran the back of his hand across his face. “If you’d handle the bottled beer that’d be great. Happy hour prices are two bucks domestic, three bucks import.”
“Got it.” Willow let out a wolf whistle. The noise in the bar dropped a level. “If you’re looking for bottled beer, the line forms here.”
“What about well drinks?” a man demanded.
She pointed to Blake. “He’ll get your order. And if you want something frou-frou, like a blended daiquiri or a piña colada, you’re in the wrong bar.”
Laughter rang out.
For the next hour, Willow uncapped beer bottles, hauled ice and restocked. Blake was still a bit frazzled, but he never snapped at her or at a customer. His smile wasn’t as wide as she’d seen it other nights, but the man was still smiling.
Especially when he glanced her way. A very satisfied male expression transformed his face. But oddly enough, it wasn’t sexual in origin.
Once they’d caught up, she propped her elbows on the bartop. “I guess people pour in for the drink specials, huh?”
“Appears that way.” Blake drained a bottle of water and stared at her.
“What?”
“I’m surprised to see you.”
She shrugged.
“The last thing I heard after you totally fried my circuits in the shower this mornin’ was that you wouldn’t be around tonight.”
“I hadn’t planned on it until I drove by the bar and saw you were swamped. I remembered Mandy wasn’t working. I figured you could use the help.”
Blake didn’t toss out a funny comment or offer her a dimpled grin; he just kept studying her with those intense hazel eyes.
“What?”
“Is that the only reason you came by?”
Willow never thought of herself as shy. But with the knowing way Blake considered her, she had the unusual urge to duck her face from his scrutiny.
“Will?”
“No, that’s not the only reason.”
He waited for her response. Just as she knew he would.
“I’m here because I missed you. I-I can’t seem to stay away from you.” She glanced down at her boots.
Blake put his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. “Did you know how crazy I am about you?”
Willow shook her head.
“You do now.” He kissed her square on the mouth.
The knots in her belly loosened.
“Stay with me tonight?” he whispered against her lips.
She nodded.
Last call couldn’t come soon enough.
Blake closed the bar at ten o’clock. He disappeared in the back while she tidied up the front. When Willow ventured to the office, all the lights were off. The heavy steel door slammed and the deadbolts clicked. Blake smiled and took her hand, leading her upstairs.
In the apartment he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You hungry?”
“Um. No. Thanks.”
“Come on then.” Clasping her hand, he guided her into the bedroom.
Willow stopped in the doorframe. Candles were scattered around the room, giving off a golden glow and a mix of scents. The bedding was stripped back to just white sheets. “What… Wow. When did you have time to do this?”
“You like it?”
“I love it. I’ve never…”
Had a man try to impress me with romance.
Especially not when she was a sure thing.
“I wondered if you’d find this clichéd.”
She faced him. “No! But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“And yet I did.” Blake tugged her against his body, pressing his hands in the small of her back. “It’s been a few crazy days. I wanted to slow it down a bit tonight.”
She blinked at him.
“What?”
“You’re so thoughtful.”
“I try.”
“I don’t deserve this.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I can’t reciprocate.” She groaned with frustration. “I’m bad at gooey romantic stuff. I never know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing earlier in the shower.” He placed his lips on her temple and murmured, “Amazingly hot, Will.”
“Blake—”
“Ssh. Let me see you.” He undressed her. Kissing each section of newly bared skin.
“I’m glad you don’t want a strip tease,” she mumbled between his flirty kisses.
“I’ll admit I woulda liked to’ve seen you whipping your undies up on the ceiling fan. I was surprised you put the sash back on once you were nekkid.”
“Not exactly queenly behavior. Then again, I was hardly the epitome of beauty queen.”
“You’re the epitome of beauty to me. From what I’ve seen, you’re definitely a firecracker. So the title fits you.” Blake slid the straps of her bra down her biceps and she shivered at the raw sensuality in his eyes.
“I’m definitely explosive when you touch me.”
“I’ve got a short fuse when it comes to you.” He whispered, “On the bed.”
Willow rested on her elbows and watched him strip. She whistled. “I’ll bet you could make a mint in a strip club with that hot, sexy body of yours.”
Blake slipped on a condom and hung on all fours above her. “I can’t imagine having dozens of chicks grabbing my junk.”
“All that attention isn’t a little bit appealing?”
“Nope. I only want one woman’s hands on me.”
“Really? Do I know her?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is it…me?” she asked with mock shock.
“Yep. ’Cause, sunshine, you are an expert in handling certain…tools.”
She giggled.
He kissed her. Drawing out every ounce of pleasure with just his mouth on hers. He feathered his lips across her jawbone. Her cheek. Her eyelids. Her eyebrows. Her forehead. He nuzzled her hairline.
Then Blake let his mouth, his hands, his breath, even the ends of his hair caress her skin. Purposely avoiding the area between her thighs. He traced her bikini line and the crease of her leg with the very tip of his tongue.
Her body shook. Her blood pumped hot and fast. She was actually dizzy. With want. With need. For him. For what he brought to her. For how he made her feel.
He whispered, “Let’s sit up.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, maneuvering her across his lap, her knees on either side of his hips.
Willow panicked. “Wait. Blake. I’ve never done it this way… I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Do what you want. Do what feels good. I’m gonna be touching you everywhere while you figure it out.”
She didn’t waste time, she immediately impaled herself.
He groaned. She groaned. And so it began. The glide of skin on skin. Long kisses. Short kisses. Sighs. Tasting. Touching. The erotic dance started slow, developing heat and speed until their sweat-slicked bodies were slamming together.
Blake thrust up when Willow pressed down. His marauding mouth was on her neck, her breasts, her shoulders. It seemed to be everywhere at once.
Her body was primed to shatter. Each hip bump, each grinding downstroke, each sucking kiss, each bead of sweat created between them brought her closer to that elusive breaking point.
Blake said “Come on, Will. Come for me. Take me with you this time.” His hand slipped between their bodies and he rapidly thumbed her clit.
She detonated. His mouth remained sucking on her throat, sending a connective wave from her pulsing sex to her throbbing nipples. “Blake? Oh God. Oh God!”
Her muscles tightened around his cock, but he didn’t shift or change his strokes, he rode out the storm with her.
Then Blake had his hands on her ass. Frantic thrusts gave way to stillness. She watched as he threw his head back and came with a drawn out groan.
Slumped together, they held each other, trying to retain some semblance of sanity.
Finally, Willow lifted her face from the spot on his shoulder that seemed tailor-made for her head.
Their eyes met.
She whispered, “Kaboom.”
He whispered back, “Definitely kaboom.”
Chapter Nine
Willow thought about Blake all morning. How he’d done so many sweet, considerate things for her. She wanted to repay him and prove she wasn’t inept when it came to romantic gestures.
The candles, the music, the seduction last night…pure romance. Pure Blake.
At the sandwich shop she bought two supreme meat and veggie subs, two cups of potato dumpling soup and two chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Not exactly healthy, but the man had to indulge once in a while.
She entered through the service door. “Blake?”
He poked his head out of the office. “Willow? What’re you doin’ here?”
She held up the box with the food. “Lunchtime.”
“I was hoping you were here to offer me a nooner.”
“It depends on how fast you eat.”
“Don’t tempt me, sunshine.” He kissed the top of her head and took the box. “Let’s eat in the bar. Hopefully the delivery I’m waiting on will show up while we’re eating, so afterward I can sneak you upstairs for a quickie before you head back to the trenches.”
Willow balanced on the tips of her steel-toed boots and smooched his chin. “You have the best ideas.”
Soon as she’d divided the food, Blake straddled her across his lap and kissed her thoroughly. “Mmm. That’s what I was hungry for. It’s been forever since I tasted your sweet kisses.”
“Forever? It’s been four hours since you kissed me good-bye.”
“Like I said. Forever.” Then Blake kissed her again.
Willow sighed. “You’re heating me up while the food’s getting cold.”
“That’s how it should be.” But he set her on her own chair.
Blake wiped his mouth and spun to face her. “What are you doin’ tonight?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I know you have to work early tomorrow, and it’d be late, but could I come by your place tonight after the bar closes?”
“Sure. What’s going on?”
Blake smoothed back the hair that’d fallen from her ponytail. “We need to talk about some stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Like…what happens when Dave comes back.”
Her stomach did a little flip.
“And some other stuff that I don’t want to talk about here, okay?”
“Okay.”
He tucked into his sandwich. She stared into her soup, her appetite completely gone.
Willow thought she’d be prepared for the “it’s been fun” speech, but she now realized she didn’t want him to go.
Maybe he doesn’t have to.
Before she lost her nerve, she blurted, “If you need a job when you’re done working for Dave, you can come to work for me.”
His mouth dropped open.
“You’ve done construction and we’re always looking for reliable workers, especially carpenters, and you might not be working with me, but I’m sure we could find some way to put your skills to use.”
“Willow. That’s not—”
She put her fingers over his lips. “Just think about it, okay?”
The back door slammed. But it wasn’t a delivery person pushing a handcart full of beer through the doorway. It was Dave LeRoy. Holding a duffel bag and looking annoyed.
“Dave? What the hell? You were supposed to be gone another couple days.”
“Nice to see you too.”
“Something go wrong?”
“Might say that. The fishing sucked. Gloria was being a first-class b—” he glanced at Willow and amended, “—baby, and I decided enough was enough.”
“What happened?”
“We broke up.”
“Aw man, that sucks.”
“Tell me about it. So I tucked my tail between my legs and slunk home like the whipped dog I am. You’re off the hook.”
Would Blake just up and leave now that Dave was back?
Dave dropped the duffel bag. “The hook comment would’ve been funnier if my fishing trip hadn’t gone in the crapper.”
“Isn’t a crapper a fish?” Blake asked.
“That’d be a crappie. Which also describes my mood.”
“Why don’t you head on upstairs? I’ve got it covered down here.”
“Nah. I’m wired.” Dave wandered behind the bar, helping himself to a glass of Sprite. He frowned at Willow. “I didn’t think this was your kind of place.”
She froze. Would Blake tell Dave what’d happened in his bar in his absence?
Then Dave looked back and forth between Blake and Willow. “You two know each other?”
“Startin’ to. Maybe you oughta—”
“I get it.” A huge smile bloomed on Dave’s face. “You’re cozying up to the competition, West. Smart.”
“Competition?” Willow repeated.
Blake went board stiff next to her.
“Sure. Blake’s a helluva carpenter. His skills have been wasted working part-time for his cousins. Now that his years as a sheep rancher are over, I’m trying to talk him into remodeling this place. Putting in a kitchen so I can serve bar food. Then he could hang out his shingle, so to speak.”
“Dave—”
“You’re a sheep rancher?” Willow said incredulously.
Dave laughed. “Now why am I not surprised you kept that to yourself?” He confided in Willow, “Bet he didn’t tell you he and his dad just sold their spread for a pile of money?”
“No. He neglected to mention that.” She spun toward Blake. “So you’re not ‘between jobs’? You’re not really a bartender?”
“I am a bartender, Will,” Blake said softly. He looked at her. “Does it matter?”
“It does if you’re a carpenter with unlimited funds, pretending to be a bartender, so you can get the lowdown on what it’d take to compete with us.”
“A little competition would do Gregory Construction some good,” Dave said.
“Shut up,” Willow and Blake snapped simultaneously.
“I’m just sayin’…” Dave put up his hands. “It’s obvious you two have some things to talk about.” He disappeared into the back.
Things started to click into place. Blake asking her specific details about their business. Their main focus. How many guys worked for them. She was amazed
he
hadn’t suggested she patch the wall, not to lessen the amount she owed for bar damage, but so he could ascertain her skill level.
Infuriated, she jumped to her feet. “You totally played me.”
“How do you figure?”
“Getting me to talk about my job.”
“And that means I have ulterior motives? Because I’m interested in your life?”
“Darn right it does. When you haven’t been honest with me about yours.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Are you having a good laugh about me asking you to come to work for us? Cozying up to the owner? Was that your plan from the start?”
Blake smacked his hands on the counter. “When you barged in here I had no idea who you were besides a confrontational drunk who also happened to be Miss Firecracker. The local beauty queen, not the local carpenter.”
“You slept with me under false pretenses!”
“What was false about it? That I think you’re sexy, smart, funny and sweet? That you look as hot in a toolbelt as you do in a pageant sash? That I like spendin’ time with you in and out of bed?” His eyes glittered. “Lemme tell you something, sunshine, there was nothin’ false about my cock getting hard every time I saw you or touched you.”
“That is not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“You lied about being between jobs.”
“I
am
between jobs.”
“You didn’t tell me you had money.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m not used to having money. Or maybe I kept it quiet because I’d like a woman to be attracted to me—not to my bank account.”
“You know I’m not like that!”
“And you know I am not a liar.” Blake sighed. “Look, I’ve gotten used to women pretending to like me for other reasons. Hoping I’ll introduce them to my good lookin’ wild McKay cousins. Or because they expect I’ll sneak them free drinks. Or sweet-talk me into doin’ their home repairs for nothin’.
“The reason I didn’t tell you about the years I spent a sheep rancher? That’s not who I am, anymore than Miss Firecracker is who you are. It’s afforded me some opportunities. Just like the title did for you. So I didn’t lie. I
was
a carpenter. I
was
a sheepherder. But right now? I am
just
a bartender.”
Her stomach clenched at his defeated tone.
Blake slid from the stool. “I didn’t play you. I don’t have plans to ruin your business by being in your bed. I am a decent guy who is tired of defending my livelihood at every turn to people who don’t judge me as hard as I judge myself, no matter if I’m herding sheep, or nailing trim, or making drinks. I’m tired of explaining myself. I thought I didn’t have to with you. I thought you were the first woman who saw me—the real me—who looked beyond labels, because you defy every one that’s ever been put on you.”
He wouldn’t even look at her.
“Was I wrong, Willow?”
Dave poked his head around the corner. “Blake. Phone.”
Blake sighed and started to walk away.
Don’t go.
Willow stared after him. Confused. Heartsick. And feeling the unwelcome urge to cry.
Talk to him.
Forget him. He’s leaving anyway.
She exited through the front door at a dead run and didn’t look back.
Blake raced out the service entrance only to see gravel flying as Willow roared off in her truck.
“Fuck!”
He flipped open his cell phone to call her, to demand she get her ass back here so they could talk this out, when he realized he didn’t have her cell phone number.
“Fuck.”
“Standing in the parking lot and swearing at the memory of her tailgate ain’t gonna do you any good, West.”
Blake slumped against the building. “Think I don’t know that, Dave?” He glanced over at his friend. “Perfect timing, by the way.”
Dave laughed. “I sincerely hope you aren’t blaming your stupidity on me.”
“It might’ve been easier if I’d had the chance…shit. I had lots of chances. I didn’t take any of ’em. I totally fucked this up.”
“Yep.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Anytime. So you and Willow Gregory, huh?”
“I don’t wanna talk about her.”
Dave handed him a bottle of water. “Okay. Then can I ask you something else?”
No.
“Why the big secret about being a sheep rancher? Why’ve you always been embarrassed about it?”
“Maybe it’s all the jokes. ‘Wyoming. Where men are men and sheep are nervous.’ Or maybe it’s because the rest of my family, on both the West and McKay side, are cattle ranchers. Successful ranchers and we’ve always struggled. Or maybe it’s because my brother bailed on the ranch as soon as he could and left me with no choice but to stay on and help Dad.”
“You could’ve left.”
Blake shook his head. “We barely scraped by most years, so no way could he afford to hire help if I left. What was I supposed to do? Act like the sheep business he’d devoted his life to wasn’t good enough for me? Act ungrateful?”
But weren’t you doing that by hiding how you’ve spent the majority of your life?
“No. But instead you made yourself miserable?”
“I didn’t hate working on the ranch. Not like Nick. It was just what I did, kinda like washing bar glasses. It’s not exciting, but you just do it anyway without thinking about it because it needs done.”
“Okay. I get that. So was it the same ‘I don’t wanna be ungrateful’ story when you learned carpentry?”
“Sort of.” He cracked the lid on the water bottle and took a long drink. “Except I’d bet a hundred bucks that my cousins Chet and Remy only offered to teach me because they felt sorry for me.”
“Why?”
“After Nick left, they thought I’d gotten trapped in a life I hadn’t chosen.”
“Weren’t you?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way until I started working for them. So yeah, the upside was I learned a new skill set, but I got the impression they felt they were doing me a favor, ya know?”
“I hear ya. But again, you were too nice a guy to say no when they asked you for help?”
“Pretty much.”
Dave sighed. “You ever done anything
you’ve
wanted to do job-wise? Without worrying about whether your decision will hurt a family member’s feelings? Or without being embarrassed about what you’re doing?”
“The only job I’ve ever gotten on my own was at the Rusty Spur. I like tending bar. I’m good at it.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to watch my place if I didn’t know that.”
“Thanks.”
A bout of silence stretched between them.
“Look, I wasn’t blowing smoke the night I talked about expanding LeRoy’s. With the storefront next door empty, I could add on a kitchen. Probably start out serving bar food and see how that goes.”
“I imagine it’ll go over well.”
Dave tossed his empty water bottle in the recycling bin and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I know you’re struggling to find a place to land after your dad’s stroke. So I just wanna throw it out there that if you’re interested, sincerely interested, not just being ‘Blake the nice guy’ to your old buddy Dave, but looking to make a permanent change in your life, well, I’d like to talk seriously about a partnership.”
That surprised Blake. “Why?”
“I had nothing but time to think on the way back from Jackson Hole. I realized that Gloria was right about a lot of things.”
“Like?”
“Like I don’t have a life outside of the bar. Makes it worse since I live upstairs and I can’t seem to get away from it. I need to. Soon.” He squinted at the horizon. “We both work too damn hard, Blake. Be nice to share the workload.”
“That is true.”
Dave turned and grinned. “And the profits.”
“Yeah, you do have the beginnings of a goldmine here.” Blake pushed up from the wall. “I appreciate the offer. Can I crash at your place and keep pouring drafts for the next couple days while I’m considering it?”
“Absolutely.” He hesitated. “Now can I say something about Willow?”
“Have at it.”
“She’s a door slammer. She gets pissed, she slams the door and she stomps away. Once she cools off, she’ll come back around.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“You’ve got an entire bar to drown your sorrows in.” Dave slapped him on the back. “Come on. You’re off the clock. Lemme buy you a drink.”
“Deal.”
Willow drove aimlessly. She passed by Mandy’s house, but something—probably pride—stopped her from pulling in and pouring her heart out.