The Heart Won't Lie Read online

  And he did want it, desperately. He longed to merge with her in every way, with his lips, his tongue, his hands, his arms, his legs and, most of all, his cock. When he pushed forward and locked himself in tight, she sighed happily.

  “Perfect,” she said.

  “I know.” Covering her mouth with his once again, he pumped slowly, almost reverently. He’d never thought about it before, but opening herself to him was so very generous. She was letting him inside her body. No, not just letting him inside. She welcomed him there.

  With each thrust, she lifted her hips to greet him. She wanted this connection as much as he did, and that was some sort of miracle, wasn’t it? She was willing to be vulnerable with him. She’d allowed him to tie her up, for God’s sake. And squirt her with whipped cream.

  As he rocked easily back and forth, knowing that he would come, but not ready to rush the process because he liked it too much, he faced the truth. He was in love with her. Besides that, unless he was a lousy judge of people, she was in love with him.

  Right now, as they enjoyed their mutual passion in this sticky bed, being in love was a wonderful thing. Next week, when they weren’t together anymore, it might not be quite so wonderful.

  The answer to that problem was blindingly simple. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before, but sometimes the most obvious solutions were the easiest to overlook. It would be all right. They would be okay.

  With that issue solved, he gave himself up to the power and glory of making love to Keri Fitzpatrick. Of course they wouldn’t end their relationship on Sunday. That would be stupid. Michael was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

  * * *

  “ACTING ON IMPULSE is not a good idea.” Keri sat in the middle of the mess they’d made of the sheets as early morning sunlight slowly brightened the room. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard come out of Michael’s mouth. “I know you’re not stupid, so—”

  “Thank you for that. I’m not stupid. Some have even called me brilliant. And moving here is the smartest idea I’ve ever had in my life.”

  She gazed at him as he paced the room wearing only his jeans. He’d been awake since four and he’d spent the time while she slept writing. The moment she’d roused herself enough to realize he wasn’t in bed with her anymore, she’d sat up and discovered him typing away at the small desk.

  Although he’d seemed lost in his imaginary world, he must have sensed that she was awake, because he’d shut down the computer. Then he’d told her that the ranch inspired him, and that she inspired him. He no longer wanted to live in New York City.

  “You’ve been here less than a week,” she said. “And you’ve lived in New York your entire life. What about your family? Your friends?”

  He shrugged the broad shoulders that looked so damned good naked. “I’ll visit them, or even better, they’ll visit me. They all have plenty of money. Money shrinks distance between people.”

  She yearned to follow him into this fantasy, but one of them had to keep a clear head. “I think you have it backward. Stay in New York. Visit here. Give yourself some time to—”

  “I don’t need time. I need this place.” His expression grew more intense. “I need you.”

  Oh, boy. She understood. She really did. They’d had some amazing sex, and she was falling for him, too. But that didn’t mean he should abandon everything and everyone in his former life and move far from the center of the publishing world just to be with her.

  She took a long, shaky breath. “I love hearing that you need me. But changing your entire life on the spur of the moment doesn’t make sense.”

  “You did.”

  “Yes, but I...I wasn’t coming here to be with someone. That puts more weight on the situation.”

  “And that scares you?”

  “A little. You like Jackson Hole in August, but will you like it in February, when it’s twenty below, not even counting the wind chill factor?”

  He smiled. “We’ll keep each other warm.”

  How she longed to sink into that smile, to believe in his vision of the future, to welcome this decision with the joy he obviously expected from her. But she couldn’t do it. He could be setting them both up for a fall.

  “Winter on a ranch in Wyoming is nothing like winter in New York City. You’re sometimes cut off from the basics like food and gas. Keeping the animals warm is a constant concern.”

  He met her gaze. “I’m sure it’s not New York, and I’m ready to experience the difference.”

  “Are you, really? It took me a year before I knew for sure this was where and how I wanted to live. You can’t possibly—”

  “You’re wrong, Keri. I can feel the chains coming off with every breath I take. My family is so damned proud of their heritage, which dates back to the effing Mayflower. Leaving New York would be unthinkable for them. All my life I’ve bought the premise that Hartfords always live east of the Hudson. But I belong here. On some level I’ve always known that.”

  “You’re so good with words.” Her heart ached. “I would love to be convinced by that argument, but Michael, you don’t really know what you’re talking about. You arrived on Monday afternoon. This is only Friday morning. You’ve experienced a tiny sliver of life on this ranch during August. You need more time, more exposure to the seasons, and more exposure to living a rural existence.”

  He exhaled, obviously impatient with her stance. “I’m beginning to think you don’t want me here, Keri.”

  “No, that’s not it! Of course I want you here. I’m...fond of you.” If she mentioned the L word, that would only make things worse.

  “Fond of me?” He studied her as if considering the meaning of that.

  “Very fond.” It was all she’d allow herself to say right now.

  “If you’re so fond of me, why are you throwing up these roadblocks?”

  “I’m worried that you’re making a rash decision that will turn out to be a huge mistake. If you move out here and discover it’s not for you, then what?”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  She was so afraid he was doing this mostly because of her, and changing an entire life for one person, especially one he’d known a few days, sounded like a recipe for disaster. “Okay, let me ask you this. If I changed my mind and decided to go back to Baltimore, would you still move here?”

  His hesitation said it all.

  “Please give this some more thought before you plunge ahead.” She climbed out of bed. “You need to move here because it’s the right place for you, not because you want to be with me. I shouldn’t be your reason.”

  He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head and turned away. “You’re right.” He walked over to the window and stared out at the mountains. “I sometimes let these flights of fancy get the best of me.” His words sounded reasonable, but his tone and his body language were defiant.

  If he’d looked at her while he’d admitted his impulsive nature, she might have believed that he intended to rein it in. Instead, he had his back to her, and what a rigid back it was, too.

  Judging from his posture as he stood at the window, she didn’t think he was calmly considering his options. She feared he was bitterly disappointed because she hadn’t thrown herself into his arms and celebrated this wonderful decision with him.

  It would have been so easy to do. And so unwise. “I need to get down to the kitchen.”

  “Yes, I know.” He didn’t turn around.

  “Michael, I hope you understand why I didn’t jump on your idea with cries of glee.”

  “I do.”

  “Well, good.” She waited a moment longer to see if he’d turn around. Nope. “I’ll see you downstairs,” she murmured.

  “See you then.”

  16

/>   THE FIRST WEDDING guests, the O’Connelli family, arrived around ten on Friday morning. Michael had just finished grooming Destiny after a short trail ride on his own, a gratifying sign that at least Jack had confidence in him. Keri was another matter.

  Besides giving the okay for a solo ride, Jack had also prepped Michael on the eccentric O’Connellis. He wasn’t startled when a Volkswagen bus covered with peace signs and other New Age symbols pulled into the circular drive in front of the ranch house.

  Free spirits Seamus O’Conner and Bianca Spinelli had combined their last names when they’d married in the seventies, creating the surname O’Connelli. Morgan, Gabe’s wife, was one of seven O’Connelli siblings. Seamus and Bianca had arrived for Gabe and Morgan’s wedding three years ago in this same bus.

  The following year, another of the O’Connelli daughters, Tyler, had become Jack’s sister-in-law when she’d married Alex Keller, Josie’s brother. With two daughters living here, the vagabond O’Connellis had become regular visitors to the Last Chance.

  Tyler’s twin brother, Regan, had come for the wedding, and so had his seventeen-year-old sister, Cassidy. The four O’Connellis, who had spent a good part of their lives crammed into a Volkswagen bus, were apparently delighted to be given a room upstairs that included four bunks.

  The other four-bunk room was reserved for Pete Beckett’s two brothers and their wives, who often traveled together and were used to sharing quarters. The remaining room upstairs, a small one with a twin bed and a tiny attached bath, would go to Pete’s aunt Georgia, who reportedly was quite spry for eighty-nine.

  As people came rushing out of the house to greet the arrivals, Michael took Destiny out to the pasture and lingered there after he turned the horse loose. He wasn’t in the mood to be social. Not just yet.

  In the wee hours of the morning, when he’d thought that his life was finally beginning to make sense, he’d looked forward to the hustle and bustle of the wedding weekend because he and Keri would experience it together. Now he wished to hell he’d planned to leave today. Participating in the cheerful festivities wouldn’t be easy after discovering that the woman he loved was merely fond of him.

  Okay, maybe she was more than fond, but she wasn’t willing to commit to what she was feeling, and she sure as hell hadn’t leaped onboard with his new plan. Instead, she’d tried to talk him out of it with some ridiculous argument about extreme weather and the problems of rural living. As if any of that would matter to him if he could be with her.

  He was a writer who spent hours alone in imaginary settings. When he left those imaginary places and rejoined reality, having her there would be far more important to his happiness than whatever lay outside the door. But she’d told him to make his decision without factoring her into it.

  He couldn’t do that. He’d fallen in love with the place and the woman at the same time. Knowing that she wanted to stay here made for a perfect situation, if only she’d admit that she loved him as much as he loved her. He’d thought so last night, but now...well, if she wouldn’t say it, why wouldn’t she?

  Maybe because she didn’t want to be the reason he moved to the Jackson Hole area. But she was a huge part of it. If she’d been heading back to Baltimore, he wouldn’t have considered moving here. Where she lived would factor into his decision, but he couldn’t say the same about her. She’d been willing to end their relationship so that she could stay in Wyoming.

  No matter which way he looked at her reaction to his plan, the conclusion remained the same. He was head over heels, and she was less so. That sucked.

  But the Chances had been terrific to him ever since he’d arrived, and he would shake off this rotten mood and do his best to be upbeat for the next couple of days. Tonight everyone was headed to the Spirits and Spurs, the bar in Shoshone owned by Jack’s wife, Josie. Michael had been invited a couple of days ago, but he’d begged off, saying that this was for family, not some stranger from back east.

  His real reason, of course, had been that he’d hoped to spend time alone upstairs with Keri while the place was empty of guests. That wasn’t such a good idea anymore. Another night in bed with her, and he was liable to make an even bigger fool of himself than he already had. Might as well ask if he was still welcome at the Spirits and Spurs tonight and see if he could forget his troubles for a few hours.

  * * *

  BEING RIGHT WAS no fun at all. Keri believed with all her heart that she’d done the right thing by trying to convince Michael to take his time. He was talking about making such a drastic change. But she hated the distance she’d created between them.

  And there certainly was distance. He’d avoided her gaze when he’d come down for breakfast, and he’d left with only a brief goodbye. Later, as she’d bundled up the sticky sheets and remade his bed, she’d wondered if they’d ever make love again. Something told her they might not.

  She’d put the sheets in with a load of towels and her ruined dress was shoved into the depths of a garbage bag. Their night of mildly kinky sex would remain a secret, but she longed for a smile or a wink from Michael to let her know he remembered that part of the evening and not just the awkward discussion that followed in the morning.

  She’d tried to blame all the wedding activity for keeping them from exchanging any private words, but she knew that wasn’t the reason. Lunch had been a chaotic affair with all the extra guests, but that should have made it easier for him to find a moment to say something to her. No one would have noticed.

  He’d made no effort to connect ever since she’d left his room this morning, and she missed him more than she could have imagined. Someday soon, after he’d left here and had given himself a chance to gain perspective, he’d realize that her advice had been good. But picturing that moment of clarity didn’t keep her from feeling sad that they were estranged now.

  She was fairly certain he hadn’t planned to go to the Spirits and Spurs with the wedding party, but she wasn’t surprised when he went, after all. She and Michael could have had some time alone upstairs while the others were partying, but apparently he hadn’t wanted that.

  After everyone was gone, she closed herself in her room and took a long hot shower. It didn’t relax her as much as she’d hoped, but she put on some light flannel pajamas and climbed into bed. Her usual evening entertainment, reading a Jim Ford book, would only make her feel more unhappy, so she switched off the light.

  Closing her eyes, she tried a few relaxation techniques with no success. Her brain insisted on replaying the events of the day. Judging from Michael’s behavior since this morning, she could expect the same tomorrow, and then on Sunday he’d leave.

  She couldn’t let him do that without making one more attempt to reach an understanding. She decided to write him a note and put it on his pillow. Maybe he’d rip it to shreds, but she didn’t know how else to let him know that she’d acted out of love.

  No, she couldn’t say that. If she mentioned love, he’d take that as a sure sign that he should move here. He wouldn’t give himself time to think about the decision.

  She’d have to find a way to indicate she cared about him without using the L word. She’d been in PR, for God’s sake. Although she wasn’t a professional writer like Michael, she was no slouch with the English language.

  But as she sat down with a pen and one of the monogrammed notecards her mother had sent her for Christmas, she struggled. She ruined three notecards before she finally came up with something that sort of worked. She read it over one more time to be sure.

  Dear Michael,

  My reaction to your plan seems to have greatly disappointed you and destroyed the friendship we had. But I still believe what I said—that a major decision like this needs to be considered from all angles. I didn’t say that to be a wet blanket or because I don’t care about you. I do care, and I want you to be happy.

  Yours,

&
nbsp; Keri

  She’d debated a long time over how to sign off. She certainly wasn’t going to say with love or anything mushy. Yours was a common closing, and didn’t have to mean anything more than at your service. If it meant something more personal to her, he wouldn’t have to know that.

  Slipping the notecard into its cream-colored envelope, she tucked the flap inside and wrote his name on the front. Then she walked quickly across the hall to his door.

  Her heart pounded with anxiety, even though she’d seen him leave with the others and was certain he wasn’t there. As she opened the door and confirmed that, bittersweet memories made her sigh with longing. Last night when she’d walked in, he’d been waiting with rawhide strings and whipped cream. Tonight, he’d been eager to get away from her for a few hours.

  He hadn’t left any lights on, but the moon shining through the window allowed her to find the switch on the bedside lamp. Once she turned it on, she could see that the room was as neat as she’d left it this morning, as if he didn’t want to cause her any extra trouble. Last night he’d been willing to spray whipped cream on the sheets.

  In another two days, it would be even neater, because no one would be staying here. She probably shouldn’t think about that. Michael might be keeping his distance, but at least he was still in the vicinity. She could catch glimpses of him here and there. Yes, she was pathetic, but he would never know that.

  She leaned down to lay the envelope against the pillow sham. Then she changed her mind. Tonight Michael would get turn-down service.

  Removing the decorative pillows, she folded back the sheets. Then she turned on the other bedside lamp. She left the envelope propped against the pillow on what had become his side of the bed when they shared it. As an afterthought, she pulled one of the lupine blossoms out of the vase she’d refreshed that morning, shook the water off the stem and laid that on top of his pillow. A peace offering.