Page 50 of Guarded Secrets
“That’s nice. I’m glad you’re here.” She tilted her head, trying to get a read on his mood. Something was going on with him. “What?”
With a shake of his head, he gathered the front of her shirt in one big hand and pulled her to him. “You. Just you.”
Then his lips were on hers and she could hardly breathe.
Mouth, tongue, teeth, he used them all to kiss her thoroughly and completely.
She clutched his shirt and could barely hold on. The kiss lit the fuse to the dynamite and the explosion of need threatened to obliterate her.
She could no longer convince herself what she felt for him was a tiny crush. It was much bigger, and she had the uneasy feeling it could destroy her.
After thoroughly devouring her, Owen let her go. He still wore that impenetrable expression, but his eyes had gone electric blue.
Without saying a word, he turned on his heel.
“Oh no you don’t.” Keeley grabbed his arm and held on. “You don’t get to kiss me like I mean something, then walk away like I don’t.”
He stopped, eyes glittering when he whipped around, his hands going to her elbows. “You do mean something, Keeley. You mean too damn much. You started it this morning and now that I know how it is when we kiss, I only want more.”
“I haven’t made it a secret that I want more too.”
“I can’t give you more.” He released her and his eyes went flat. “I’m committed to protecting you. That hasn’t changed. It’s better if we stay away from each other for both our sakes.” He stalked off to where the rest of their group was gathered, the dogs running along with him.
Jerk.She didn’t need Owen Hardesty, and certainly didn’t need the emotional roller coaster he put her on.
He kissed her like he meant it, and then said they needed to stay away from each other. And, oh yeah, he was herboss. How was that supposed to work? Fuming, she crossed the wide yard to join her friends.
Delaney pulled her into a hug, whispering in her ear, “Wowza. That was some kiss. What’s going on with you and Owen?”
“He’s a jerk and I’m not talking about it. I won’t let him ruin my night.”
Delaney squeezed her hand. “Fair enough.” She lifted the hair Keeley had combed over her forehead so it hid her stitches, and winced. “It still hurt?”
“Some, but it’s healing.”
Cam and Emery joined them, and there were more questions.
After the initial fuss and discussion over the attack and her stitches, and then Pam’s murder, Keeley held up a hand. “That’s the end of that. I don’t want violence and death to be what we talk about all evening. It’s all I’ve thought about all day and I need a break. The mystery will still be there tomorrow, so let’s enjoy each other’s company tonight.”
Her appeal for a modicum of normalcy worked.
Shane knelt to feed wood into a fire burning in a steel ring circled by folding chairs. Delaney leaned against Walker in a loveseat sipping ginger ale. Sawyer had Cam backed up against a fence in a lip-lock that was getting heated, and Emery brought a bowl covered in plastic wrap from the house to place on a folding table already groaning under the weight of trays of sliced vegies, and bowls of watermelon, baked beans, and potato salad.
Shane’s friend and ranch hand Harding, with his warm brown skin and long beard gathered with a hair tie, stood at the grill with Gage and Mateo as he used tongs to flip a rack of ribs and chicken quarters.
Still trying to find her equilibrium after that power-packed kiss, and the subsequent heated words, Keeley did what she loved to do. She moved among the friends to chat and catch up with everyone.
Delaney’s not-just-morning sickness had apparently started after lunch and had finally eased enough she thought she could eat. Working together, Keeley helped Cam and Sawyer set up two long folding tables under a giant tree that grew in the middle of the yard.
“We’re having a boy,” Cam insisted.
Keeley felt like she’d walked into the middle of a conversation.
“Could be, but I think we’re having a girl,” Sawyer replied. “I want a girl with her mama’s blonde hair and gorgeous eyes.”
“Or she could have her daddy’s dark hair and gorgeous eyes. But we’re having a boy. We can name him James Theodore after his great-grandpa and great-uncle. We could call him JT for short.”
Sawyer stood and stared at his wife. “That’s perfect.” He shook his head, his eyes reflecting emotion. “But I still think we’re having a girl. She could be Clara after your grandmother.”
