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Authors: Janet Dailey
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enough money to travel. I was packing up to leave when my dad had a stroke. It turned out to be bad. There was no way I could leave him, especially since my mother had passed away years before. Now that he’s gone, too . . .” Shane shook his head. “It seems like all I’ve ever done in my life is run that ranch. If I don’t cut loose now, I never will.”
“Is that why you never got married? I remember how the girls used to chase you. You must’ve had plenty of offers.”
“Maybe. But only from the desperate ones. Face it, chasing a boy is one thing. Choosing a life partner is something else. And I’m not what you’d call great husband material, am I?”
“No comment.”
He laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a deep, masculine belly laugh that Kylie could feel where she sat next to him. “Now that’s what I call honesty! I always did like that about you. You never tried to butter me up like other girls did by saying things you didn’t mean.”
“Maybe I should’ve tried harder,” she said. “Maybe if I had, you’d have taken me for a ride on your motorcycle. Maybe you’d have taken me down by the riverbank with a six-pack of beer, like you did those other girls.”
He stopped laughing.
Heaven help her, what did she just say?
“I wouldn’t have taken you down by the riverbank, Kylie. You were too good for that. If I’d taken you for a ride, it would have been down the middle of Main Street, so the whole town could see the classy girl that worthless bum Shane Taggart had on the back of his bike.”
Something tightened in Kylie’s chest, quickening her pulse. His face was dangerously close—so close that she felt an aching urge to tempt fate. Her eyes closed. Her chin tilted toward him. She was dimly conscious of the storm swirling outside.
Her heart thundered as she felt his warm breath and the first nibbling brush of his lips on hers. His hands didn’t move to pull her close. Only their mouths touched. She tasted cocoa and marshmallow foam as he kissed her with a gentle hunger that awakened a deep throbbing need.
Her conscience shrilled that this was wrong for so many reasons—her children, upstairs in their rooms, the ring on her finger, the grave in Arlington, and the wrecked motorcycle outside in the shed. But right now, all she could think of was wanting more.
She leaned into his kiss, responding in spite of herself. For an instant, his breath caught. He stiffened, then eased her away from him. His dark eyes burned in the firelight.
“This isn’t helping either of us, Kylie. If you know me, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get up this minute, climb those stairs to your room, and stay there till daylight.”
She drew back, her cheeks blazing. “Shane, I didn’t mean to—”
“Neither did I.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Go.”
“This never happened!” She flung the words back at him as she fled, stumbling up the stairs to her room, feeling her way in the dark.
Chapter Five
December 23
G ray light, filtering through Muriel’s lace curtains, woke Shane to a leaden dawn. The room was cold, the house quiet, with no sign that the power had come back on.
After spending most of the night trying to get comfortable on the too-short couch, he ached in every muscle. It was a relief for him to fling off the quilt, stand up, and stretch his legs. The stillness outside told him the storm had passed. His truck would be buried in snow. He would dig it out, of course, but if the drifts were too deep on the road, driving it anywhere could be another story.
Meanwhile, there’d be paths to shovel and the generator to get working. Henry was going to need his help. But the first order of the day would be to get some heat into the house for the women and kids.
The fire had gone cold, but he found some logs, along with kindling and newspaper, in the bucket next to the hearth. Shane gave silent thanks to Henry’s foresight as he laid a new
“Is that why you never got married? I remember how the girls used to chase you. You must’ve had plenty of offers.”
“Maybe. But only from the desperate ones. Face it, chasing a boy is one thing. Choosing a life partner is something else. And I’m not what you’d call great husband material, am I?”
“No comment.”
He laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a deep, masculine belly laugh that Kylie could feel where she sat next to him. “Now that’s what I call honesty! I always did like that about you. You never tried to butter me up like other girls did by saying things you didn’t mean.”
“Maybe I should’ve tried harder,” she said. “Maybe if I had, you’d have taken me for a ride on your motorcycle. Maybe you’d have taken me down by the riverbank with a six-pack of beer, like you did those other girls.”
He stopped laughing.
Heaven help her, what did she just say?
“I wouldn’t have taken you down by the riverbank, Kylie. You were too good for that. If I’d taken you for a ride, it would have been down the middle of Main Street, so the whole town could see the classy girl that worthless bum Shane Taggart had on the back of his bike.”
Something tightened in Kylie’s chest, quickening her pulse. His face was dangerously close—so close that she felt an aching urge to tempt fate. Her eyes closed. Her chin tilted toward him. She was dimly conscious of the storm swirling outside.
Her heart thundered as she felt his warm breath and the first nibbling brush of his lips on hers. His hands didn’t move to pull her close. Only their mouths touched. She tasted cocoa and marshmallow foam as he kissed her with a gentle hunger that awakened a deep throbbing need.
Her conscience shrilled that this was wrong for so many reasons—her children, upstairs in their rooms, the ring on her finger, the grave in Arlington, and the wrecked motorcycle outside in the shed. But right now, all she could think of was wanting more.
She leaned into his kiss, responding in spite of herself. For an instant, his breath caught. He stiffened, then eased her away from him. His dark eyes burned in the firelight.
“This isn’t helping either of us, Kylie. If you know me, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get up this minute, climb those stairs to your room, and stay there till daylight.”
She drew back, her cheeks blazing. “Shane, I didn’t mean to—”
“Neither did I.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Go.”
“This never happened!” She flung the words back at him as she fled, stumbling up the stairs to her room, feeling her way in the dark.
Chapter Five
December 23
G ray light, filtering through Muriel’s lace curtains, woke Shane to a leaden dawn. The room was cold, the house quiet, with no sign that the power had come back on.
After spending most of the night trying to get comfortable on the too-short couch, he ached in every muscle. It was a relief for him to fling off the quilt, stand up, and stretch his legs. The stillness outside told him the storm had passed. His truck would be buried in snow. He would dig it out, of course, but if the drifts were too deep on the road, driving it anywhere could be another story.
Meanwhile, there’d be paths to shovel and the generator to get working. Henry was going to need his help. But the first order of the day would be to get some heat into the house for the women and kids.
The fire had gone cold, but he found some logs, along with kindling and newspaper, in the bucket next to the hearth. Shane gave silent thanks to Henry’s foresight as he laid a new
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