“You’re not ruled out.”
“I wonder what it would take to improve my position.” Molly had already decided she was going to take this man to bed, so she might as well start sending those signals.
“Would you like to know my opinion of barrel racers?”
She chuckled, “Of course.”
“Trouble. Pure trouble. Nothing but trouble. Stubborn and ornery. Never met a barrel racer who wasn’t trouble.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“That’s how I intended it.” He chuckled. “Okay, what can I bring?”
“We’ll barbeque burgers. I’ll make a potato salad. Really don’t need anything.”
“I’ll think of something.”
They got up. He summoned Bear, and they walked around the cabin together. Rather than head down the path, he stopped to face her. She took the invitation and stepped forward. She had another message she wanted to send, but she let him take the first step. He opened his arms, and she stepped in, wrapping her arms around his back. She squared up to him and let him initiate the first kiss, a beautiful, warm, soft kiss that lasted a short time. She pulled back before sending her message, a long, deep, moist, firm kiss, at first with lips tight, later with lips softly opened and pressing. Molly felt her head spinning. Oh, my, this was nice. The kiss lasted longer than expected, and when it ended, Molly was flushed and hot.
“I know the facilities at that campground are not the best. Would like to shower here tonight before you head back up the trail tomorrow?”
“That’s an offer I can’t refuse. Are you sure that’s okay? A naked man in your house?”
This time she gave him the wicked grin. “In case a storm moves in, and you’re forced to layover here, you might bring your toothbrush.”
That got her the double eyebrow raise, the pearly whites, and the blue-eyed piercing gaze that launched complete chaos in her body.
Okay, then. Message sent and received.
Chapter 3
Molly changed the sheets on her bed. She did that on the weekends anyway, but she was expecting company for the night. The timing was a little awkward with him leaving in the morning and not returning for a month or so. That made it now or too much later. With dinner that night counting as a third date, that was consistent with Molly’s dating history. If she wasn’t in the sack by the third date, something wasn’t right.
She’d learned quite a bit of excellent new information. He had a college education—an English major of all things. That was almost bizarre. He was articulate and fun with a light playful manner that she liked. She didn’t need guys taking everything seriously. She was beyond that. She worked hard, so in her time not working she needed fun, light, easy going good times. Happy hour and breakfast had qualified nicely. Interesting and entertaining conversation. She was really quite interested in him, his family, his history, and his living situation. She understood she wouldn’t be getting to his wilderness abode any time soon, but there was a big gap in his history that needed exploring.
The longtime girlfriend. There had to be a backstory there. And Molly never got past his college years. So there were ten tofifteen years not accounted for. She guessed he was her age, mid to late thirties. She had no idea how long he’d been living in the mountains or why was he living there. It sounded like he grew up in a fairly normal family. He went to college, for God’s sake. How did he go from college to a hermit’s life in the wilderness? Something definitely happened.
He didn’t seem messed up. To the contrary, he seemed quite together. The leather work was interesting. He had an artistic side. He was conscious of his appearance, perfect grooming, wearing leather in the mountains, but shifting to jeans in town so as to blend with locals. That had caused her to wonder if he was running from something. Wanting to blend in. Living off the grid. Not sharing where he lived. Quietly moving through the resort with his mule and dog once a month. Didn’t want to be seen. What would cause a man to want to be invisible like that?
She would get another ten minutes that night, but she’d already decided she’d be negotiating for more time if she didn’t get the information she needed. She sent a few emails shifting her morning schedule around so she’d have some flexibility. She didn’t want to be rushed in the morning, and she loved wake up sex.
Her day went quickly, but most of it was consumed thinking about Bart and the promising evening ahead.
He walked up the path to her front door promptly at 5:00. That was pretty impressive for a man who didn’t have a watch or care about time. He was carrying a six pack of beer, a bottle of red wine, and a small leather backpack. She greeted him, taking the beer and wine, and led him to the kitchen. When their hands were free, she moved into his arms for a hug. This time shestayed tight to his body. He was tall, lean, and muscled. She was the same. They fit nicely together. She liked feeling the muscles in his back and chest and being close to him.
When she finally pushed back, she looked up for the kiss she knew was coming. And did it ever come. He pulled her tight and really laid one on her. She let him take the lead and let it happen. Lips soft and firm at first, but as the kiss matured, lips opened, and when it ended, mouths were open and devouring the other. It was a kiss neither wanted to end. Molly felt it in her toes and every other important place. When she felt his arousal, she moved against it to let him know she could feel it. When the kiss finally ended, she pulled back, flushed, breathing elevated, and studied his incredible blue eyes. You could learn a lot looking a man in the eyes, and she liked what she saw. She saw an honest man, no games, no gimmicks, a man’s man, true and steady. But there was also pain and distance. Not an easy man to get to know. But, she sensed, a man worth knowing.
They finally broke. He slipped off the small leather backpack. She motioned toward the bedroom and watched him walk there, leaving his pack on her bed. The rear view was fantastic, narrow waist, wide shoulders, a true hunk in blue jeans. The confident walk of a muscled cowboy, but, with the moccasins causing no sound, like a big cat moving quietly through a forest.
When he returned, she said, “The menu changed from burgers to spaghetti. Thanks for the beer and wine. Got a preference for one or the other? Or maybe a drink? Gin tonic? Scotch?”
“Seems like two people named McKinnon and McGuire should have a Scotch.”
Molly loved Scotch. She immediately went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a fifteen-year-old single malt Glenfiddich, showing him the label. He nodded his approval. She poured twofingers in crystal glasses and handed him one, while she led the way with bottle in hand to the lake.
“I’m going to need more than ten minutes.”
They were settled in the Adirondacks by the lake. It was a warm spring evening, but the cool air would be falling soon. The dogs were in the woods. Molly and Bart both nursed the smooth, aged Scotch. Molly was still aroused from the kiss and thinking about later. She was pretty sure she’d already bought some extra time.
