Rough Riders: Gone Country Part 12

Rielle's gaze winged between them. "What'd I miss?"

"We bet on which one you'd choose. Seabiscuit Seabiscuit was Dad's idea. It's the best movie in the history of movies-according to him-and he's always trying to get me to watch it." was Dad's idea. It's the best movie in the history of movies-according to him-and he's always trying to get me to watch it."

"Only because you've never made it through the whole thing so you can't know how great it is."

"That's because it puts me to sleep." Sierra stretched out on the loveseat and asked Rielle, "Have you seen it?"

"No. I fell asleep too. But Heath Ledger definitely keeps me awake."

Gavin put the disc into the DVD player. He turned around. Sierra had s.n.a.t.c.hed the remote. "Where's my popcorn?"

"You're sharing with Rielle."

He'd be suspicious his daughter suspected something was going between him and Rielle if he didn't know how selfish Sierra was about her popcorn.

Rielle already had her feet on the coffee table.

He dropped beside her so they were hip to hip. He stretched his left arm across the back of the couch and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

"Your new furniture is comfy," Rielle said.

"I must've sat on two dozen sofas until I found this one. It's a little bland bachelor-ish as the fas.h.i.+onista pointed out, but comfort is more important than style."

"Definitely plenty of room for guests."

"Not if we invite all the McKays," Sierra said.

Rielle laughed.

So while she watched the movie, Gavin covertly watched her. The curve of her smile. The way she grabbed a handful of popcorn, then ate it delicately-a kernel at a time. He liked that she gradually snuggled closer to him. Not in an obvious lover's clinch that would raise Sierra's eyebrows.

When her eyes started to droop, he didn't jostle her awake. He let her sleep so he could watch her without guilt.

He brushed loose strands of her hair back. His gaze encompa.s.sed her face, from the frown lines between her eyebrows even in sleep, to the smattering of freckles across her nose, to her fantasy-invoking lips.

It was only a matter of the right timing until they became lovers. The spark between them had burned a little hotter every time they were together. As much as Gavin wanted that explosion, he was a patient man.

Rielle opened her eyes and blinked sleepily. "Sorry for cras.h.i.+ng on you. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Sierra conked out too. You'd think we were watching Seabiscuit Seabiscuit."

She smiled and her gaze cut to Sierra sprawled on the couch. Then she tried to squirm away, but Gavin held her in place.

"No worries. She's snoring." Gavin kept stroking her cheek, gauging her reaction.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Nothing. Yet. But I can think of a whole lot of things I'd like to do with you." He caressed her face. "So pretty."

Rielle blushed. "You don't have to say that."

"But it's true." His eyes searched hers, hating to see such wariness. "Why don't you believe it?"

"Because guys never say stuff like that to me. Even casually. Or jokingly."

"I'm not joking. I'm not the guy who only compliments a pretty woman because I want to get into her pants."

"So you're not a player like the rest of the McKays?"

Gavin wanted to laugh. If she only knew he spent more time on the bench than in the game. "I've been here two months. Have you seen me with a woman or five?"

She shook her head.

"That's because I'm not that guy."

"I'm glad."

He moved his hand down to outline those lush lips. "G.o.dd.a.m.n your mouth drives me crazy." He leaned closer, intending to kiss her.

"Gavin, we shouldn't."

"But we're going to anyway. Close your eyes."

She looked unsure for a moment and then she lowered her eyelids, her long eyelashes dark against her skin.

Gavin breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't balked. Since he wasn't any kind of lady killer lothario, he was completely winging it with her. Apparently she liked when he took charge.

He teased her mouth, using his lips to nibble on hers. Drawing his tongue across the seam of her velvety lips, feeling the edge of her teeth and the quick dart of her tongue.

Rielle opened wider on a soft moan, and Gavin dove into the wet warmth of her mouth. Immediately the kiss caught fire. She arched up to meet his plundering tongue, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s mashed to his chest. He pinned her right arm above her head and his hand drifted down to the outside of her breast. He caressed the generous swell, each stroke getting closer to her nipple.

At this angle his c.o.c.k pressed painfully against his zipper. Gavin s.h.i.+fted slightly, cupping her whole t.i.t in his hand. He broke the kiss, scattering tiny biting kisses to her ear. He murmured, "I have to stop or I won't be able to."

"I know." Her hand brushed his scalp, sweetly, tenderly and then she pushed him away and sat up.

Their gazes connected. She smiled. "Heck of a goodnight kiss, Gavin."

"Wish it could be more."

"Me too." She stood and stopped in front of Sierra. She gently pried the popcorn bowl out of her hand and set it on the coffee table. She pulled the edge of the blanket off the floor and draped it over her feet. Then she quietly disappeared down the stairs.

He remained there, not watching TV, just thinking about Rielle's sweetness and fire. A potent combination. And he'd started to realize he wasn't such a patient man after all.

Gavin had been expecting Vi Tuesday afternoon, but the doorbell chiming like the clang of a dinner bell startled him.

He opened the door and saw she held a big box. He immediately took it from her. "I could've carried this in for you. There's fresh coffee in the kitchen."

She unb.u.t.toned her wool coat and unwound a vibrant scarf. "It is so damp out today. Coffee sounds heavenly."

After he dumped the box in the dining room, he saw Vi sitting at the breakfast bar, poking b.u.t.tons on her cell phone.

The glob of dough on the marble countertop hadn't magically transformed itself into pie crust. He grabbed the rolling pin, determined to get the d.a.m.n crust to roll out evenly before his snarky daughter returned home.

When the rolling pin squeaked, Vi glanced up and scrutinized the mess. "You're making a pie?" she asked with surprise.

"Attempting to make a pie is more like it." to make a pie is more like it."

"Why?"

"I lost a bet. Sierra challenged me to bake a pie and I had to swear that I wouldn't get Rielle to help me."

She drummed her fingers on the counter. "What kind of pie?"

"Cherry. I don't have to make the filling from scratch. I'm having a hard enough time with the crust. The dough is sticky."

"It gets that way after it's been at room temperature for a while."

"So it's not necessarily my bad technique?"

She laughed. "No. Throw it in the freezer for a few minutes and it'll be fine."

"Thanks." When Gavin turned around, Vi was giving him a thorough inspection. "Do I have flour all over my clothes or something?"

"No. Sorry. It's just...we've never been in the kitchen together like this and I wondered if your...if Grace taught you to cook."

"Not really. I learned in a h.e.l.luva hurry when my ex wouldn't touch the stove and Sierra's first word was McDonald's. Did you teach your sons to cook?"

"I cooked for the all the boys growing up. I figured their wives would cook for them after they got married. That worked for Quinn since he and Libby tied the knot pretty young. Chase...I suspect he ate fast food all the time he was on the road. Now he and Ava have a personal chef, which boggles my mind." Vi fussed with her ruffled s.h.i.+rtsleeves. "However Ben is a good cook. He grills a mean steak. Sad to say he didn't learn that from me. I tend to char meat to the point it's inedible if I cook it over an open flame."

"Same here." Gavin removed the dough from the freezer. He reached for the rolling pin, trying not to feel self-conscious that Vi-who was probably a blue-ribbon-winning pie maker-scrutinized his every clumsy move. When the dough gummed up yet again, he was tempted to whip the blob into the sink and flip on the garbage disposal, conceding defeat.

"Gavin, would you be offended if I offered to help you?"

"G.o.d no. I'd be grateful. And Sierra only said Rielle Rielle couldn't help me, so that leaves us both in the clear." couldn't help me, so that leaves us both in the clear."

Vi snorted and pushed up her sleeves. After she washed her hands, she tackled the dough like a pastry chef, expertly rolling out two perfect dough circles. "Is the filling ready?" She peered over the tops of purple zebra print eyegla.s.ses. "I a.s.sume Little Miss wants a double crust pie?"

Little Miss was an apt description. "Yes, although technically, I think that should count as two pies." was an apt description. "Yes, although technically, I think that should count as two pies."

She snickered and transferred the dough into the pie tin.

Gavin opened a can of cherry pie filling. Before he dumped it into the sh.e.l.l, Vi placed a hand on his arm. "You know what would jazz that up? Almond flavoring. I'll bet there's almond liquor in the bar."

He returned to the kitchen with a bottle of amaretto. She handed him a measuring cup and he stirred the liquor into the pie filling, then spooned the mixture into the pie sh.e.l.l and slid the pie tin across the counter.

He found her pie-making skills fascinating. His mother had never baked. Vi stretched the dough over the top, slicing away the extra and pinching the edges together. She brushed egg wash over the dough and cut three long slits in the top before popping it in the oven. "I know I'm not supposed to covet things, but I really want an oven like this. And as long as I'm making confessions, I haven't made my own piecrust in years. I buy the frozen ones. No one knows the difference."

Gavin grinned. "Your secret is safe with me."

Vi arranged the extra sc.r.a.ps of dough on a cookie sheet and sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on each piece. "This will make a good afterschool snack. I know Sierra doesn't need the information for her history project for a while, but I thought I'd bring it over early. If she wants more information on the McKays, she can ask Carson and Carolyn. They have all the family archives, dating back to when the McKays bought the first piece of land in Wyoming in the late eighteen hundreds."

His eyebrows rose. "The McKays have been here that long?"

"Yep. The McKay ranch is one of the oldest working ranches in Wyoming. Of course, the original land is a tiny cow pasture compared to what they own now."

He and Sierra shared the same love of history. She'd been itching to get her hands on doc.u.mented family history. "I'm sure Sierra will be in touch if she has any questions."

"There wasn't a whole lot to give her on the Bennett side. We moved a lot and my father was very clear on the evils of material goods because you couldn't take them to heaven."

"I remember you mentioned your father was a preacher."

"He preferred the term man of G.o.d man of G.o.d."

"Sounds like you had a rough upbringing."

"I did."

"I'd like to hear about it." That wasn't so hard to admit.

"Well, then I'll need something stronger than coffee to have this conversation." She poured a shot of amaretto into her coffee cup. "Elmore Bennett was a Baptist minister. We didn't travel to exotic locales spreading the word of G.o.d-although Wyoming seemed exotic after living in the South. My father was a difficult man." She tossed the booze back. "Correction. My father was a pious man, but verbally abusive. He utilized the fire, brimstone and punishment part of religious teachings to keep us in line."

"What was your mother like?"

"The perfect preacher's wife. I don't think she had a thought in her head except for the ones my father put there. She loved me and my brother and sister, but she'd always save her own skin first when it came to dealing with my father."

"I take it he's dead?"

"They both are. Daddy died of a heart attack when Quinn was two. Mama lived with her sister in Mississippi after that. She wasn't in good health. I went to her funeral when Chase was a baby. I haven't seen my siblings since. I'm the black sheep of the family."

Hard to believe. Vi McKay looked like a sweet-faced grandma, but there was an aura of tension surrounding her. A tension that Gavin suspected had a lot to do with him. "Why are you the black sheep?"

"I was a young, unwed teenage mother who gave her baby up for adoption. I turned my back on the church I was raised in. Then I married a man my father hated." She waggled the empty gla.s.s. "And I like to drink. It's taken me years to learn to deal with much of this stuff. But some of it...I'll never come to terms with it."

Ask her. Here's your chance to get answers to all the s.h.i.+t that's been bothering you since you found out the truth about your birth parents.

But he couldn't force the words past his tightly closed lips.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Gavin, but I'm so happy you're here. And I won't push for more than you're willing to offer. I just...thought you should know."

"I appreciate it, Vi. This is still overwhelming for me."

"I imagine it is." Vi smiled sadly and slid from the chair. "On that note, the rest of the McKays are asking about you and Sierra. Now that you're settled in, would you consider hosting a get together?"

"I don't know...that's not really my thing."