Read Online Knight in a White Stetson by Claire King - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Claire King
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it?”
“Got it.”
She turned her back on him again. He stood at the barn door, regarding the strong slope of her back. He could imagine it perfectly, arching under him in climax. He ran his tongue over his teeth and jammed his hands in his pockets.
“That stupid Lester.”
“Yep,” Henry said. “He’s not the sharpest tack in the box.”
“What was he doing in the kitchen at three o’clock in the morning? Looking for something to eat?”
“Or something.”
“I really could have killed him with that bat.”
“I know.” He was standing next to her. Her smooth, rounded hip was at eye level. He couldn’t see her skin under her nightgown, but he could smell her. She smelled incredibly good. “You’re tough.”
Calla looked down at him warily. He returned her gaze with studied innocence.
“That bat your only protection, Calla?”
“I don’t need much out here. Protection, I mean.”
“I could teach you to use a gun.”
“I’ve been using a gun since before you were out of short pants, Henry.”
“Oh. My mistake.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
Henry shook his head gravely. “Nope.”
“Good.” She considered the wall in front of her for a minute. “What else would Lester have been in the house for?”
Henry climbed the stall one rung at a time until he was perched next to her. “Calla, have you ever caught Lester in your kitchen before?”
“That’s a laugh.”
“I mean, in the middle of the night.”
“Once or twice.”
“And you think he goes there for food?”
“What’s your point, Beckett?” she asked, shifting until she was turned toward him, her ankle cocked on the board under her. Henry could hardly tear his eyes away. He imagined her naked under her nightgown. The thickness in his tongue was gone now, and his head was blissfully clear.
“Nothing.” He paused. He took a deep breath, as much to capture the scent of her as to fortify himself. “I’m just saying Lester must have a tapeworm. He isn’t in his bunk from eleven to midnight, every single night. You could set your watch by it.”
“Oh, Lord.” Calla groaned and put her head in her hands. She really might cry now, Henry thought without alarm.
But when she lifted her head a minute later, he could see the laughter in her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Lester is boinking my Aunt Helen.”
“Not very romantically put, but yes, I’d say that’s the gist of it.”
Calla started to giggle, and couldn’t stop. She laughed so hard, Henry thought she’d fall off her perch. He reached out a hand just in case.
“That’s probably why he doesn’t show up for work until nine. He’s exhausted, the big stud.” She howled with laughter. “Eleven to midnight? What does he do after the first five minutes?”
Tears started to show in the corners of her eyes. Henry watched in fascination. He’d never seen anyone laugh so hard, so uninhibitedly, before. In spite of himself, he began to laugh, too. It bubbled up from inside him. He felt like a little kid, caught up in some excruciatingly funny knock-knock joke.
“Don’t laugh,” he managed to say. “I’ve seen Lester in his underwear. He must terrify your poor Aunt.” Calla doubled over and clutched at him, laughing so hard the sound became choked in her throat. He rocked with her back and forth on the narrow board.
What in the world was happening to him? he wondered.
After a minute, their laughter slowed. He breathed deeply once more and watched Calla wipe her eyes on the hem of her nightgown.
How this woman got to him! Nine hours ago, watching her leave his embrace to go to Clark, he’d been ready to kill her, or kill for her. When she’d come running to him across the compound in her plain white nightgown, he would have lain down his life to save her. Ten minutes ago, he’d have opened a vein to be allowed to comfort her, and now his stomach hurt from laughing at what only she could think was funny. His tidy engineer’s brain was fading fast in
“Got it.”
She turned her back on him again. He stood at the barn door, regarding the strong slope of her back. He could imagine it perfectly, arching under him in climax. He ran his tongue over his teeth and jammed his hands in his pockets.
“That stupid Lester.”
“Yep,” Henry said. “He’s not the sharpest tack in the box.”
“What was he doing in the kitchen at three o’clock in the morning? Looking for something to eat?”
“Or something.”
“I really could have killed him with that bat.”
“I know.” He was standing next to her. Her smooth, rounded hip was at eye level. He couldn’t see her skin under her nightgown, but he could smell her. She smelled incredibly good. “You’re tough.”
Calla looked down at him warily. He returned her gaze with studied innocence.
“That bat your only protection, Calla?”
“I don’t need much out here. Protection, I mean.”
“I could teach you to use a gun.”
“I’ve been using a gun since before you were out of short pants, Henry.”
“Oh. My mistake.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
Henry shook his head gravely. “Nope.”
“Good.” She considered the wall in front of her for a minute. “What else would Lester have been in the house for?”
Henry climbed the stall one rung at a time until he was perched next to her. “Calla, have you ever caught Lester in your kitchen before?”
“That’s a laugh.”
“I mean, in the middle of the night.”
“Once or twice.”
“And you think he goes there for food?”
“What’s your point, Beckett?” she asked, shifting until she was turned toward him, her ankle cocked on the board under her. Henry could hardly tear his eyes away. He imagined her naked under her nightgown. The thickness in his tongue was gone now, and his head was blissfully clear.
“Nothing.” He paused. He took a deep breath, as much to capture the scent of her as to fortify himself. “I’m just saying Lester must have a tapeworm. He isn’t in his bunk from eleven to midnight, every single night. You could set your watch by it.”
“Oh, Lord.” Calla groaned and put her head in her hands. She really might cry now, Henry thought without alarm.
But when she lifted her head a minute later, he could see the laughter in her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Lester is boinking my Aunt Helen.”
“Not very romantically put, but yes, I’d say that’s the gist of it.”
Calla started to giggle, and couldn’t stop. She laughed so hard, Henry thought she’d fall off her perch. He reached out a hand just in case.
“That’s probably why he doesn’t show up for work until nine. He’s exhausted, the big stud.” She howled with laughter. “Eleven to midnight? What does he do after the first five minutes?”
Tears started to show in the corners of her eyes. Henry watched in fascination. He’d never seen anyone laugh so hard, so uninhibitedly, before. In spite of himself, he began to laugh, too. It bubbled up from inside him. He felt like a little kid, caught up in some excruciatingly funny knock-knock joke.
“Don’t laugh,” he managed to say. “I’ve seen Lester in his underwear. He must terrify your poor Aunt.” Calla doubled over and clutched at him, laughing so hard the sound became choked in her throat. He rocked with her back and forth on the narrow board.
What in the world was happening to him? he wondered.
After a minute, their laughter slowed. He breathed deeply once more and watched Calla wipe her eyes on the hem of her nightgown.
How this woman got to him! Nine hours ago, watching her leave his embrace to go to Clark, he’d been ready to kill her, or kill for her. When she’d come running to him across the compound in her plain white nightgown, he would have lain down his life to save her. Ten minutes ago, he’d have opened a vein to be allowed to comfort her, and now his stomach hurt from laughing at what only she could think was funny. His tidy engineer’s brain was fading fast in
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