Natalie Anderson

New Year, New Man


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      Rose backed away, palms up. “I can take a hint, honey. But I’ll be back. One way or another, mark my words.”

      “This isn’t The Terminator, Mom.” Sara leaned in and said softly, “Are you so desperate to keep your boyfriend that you’ll stoop this low this to get what you want? I always thought you had a replacement guy waiting in the wings. I guess things get tougher as you age. How sad.”

      Josh watched Rose’s perfectly bronzed cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. “I don’t know what I did to deserve such an awful daughter,” she said with a sputter. “I gave up everything for you and this is how you repay me? You were a horrible, colicky baby and a demanding child. You couldn’t even make something of the career I practically gift wrapped for you. Does it make you happy to watch your own mother struggle when we both know you could help me if you wanted to? You make me sick.”

      He saw Sara’s sharp intake of breath as Rose stormed past them both, slamming the door shut in her wake.

      “Okay, then,” Sara whispered after several moments, her back still to him. “That was fun and a great trip down memory lane.” She said the last with a laugh that caught in her throat and turned into a strangled sob.

      Josh reached for her and slowly turned her so she was facing him. His gut twisted at the tears that filled her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “You don’t deserve that.”

      She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. That she’s giving you so much trouble. For ideas she may have put into Claire’s head.” She swiped her hands across her face. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn’t corrupt Claire, Josh. She’s an amazing girl. I know you only want what’s best for her.”

      He trailed a thumb across a stray tear that ran down her cheek. “Even if I’m an idiot about knowing how to talk to my own daughter?”

      She sniffed. “All men are idiots sometimes.” Holding up her fingertips, she cringed. “I can’t cry anymore. My makeup is going to run all over the place.”

      He wrapped his hands around hers. “Why do you wear so much makeup anyway? You don’t need it.” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. Jeez, maybe he should ask her if she was pregnant next or say her thighs were fat. He really was an idiot.

      She stared at him for what seemed like minutes as he braced himself for an explosion. Instead, she said softly, “It makes me feel protected—like armor. People see the goop and not me. I like it that way.”

      The brutal honesty of her words contrasted with the stark vulnerability in her eyes. His breath caught and his cold, hard heart melted. She leveled him. He bent forward and dropped a soft kiss on each of her eyelids. Up close she smelled like cinnamon and honey, sweet and spicy at the same time.

      “I see you,” he whispered against her forehead.

      “That’s a James Cameron line,” she answered, her voice not quite even. Her hands pressed against his chest as she pressed into him. “From Avatar.”

      He smiled and brushed his mouth across hers. “You know a lot of movies.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “And you talk too much.”

      “Probably. I think it’s because—”

      He covered her mouth with his, ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Everything about her drew him closer. He savored the feel of her in his arms. His hands trailed up and down along her back, played with the soft strands of her hair. Her whole body pressed into him, and for a moment he tried to hide the evidence of his desire. Then she moaned into his mouth and he lost all coherent thought.

      She pulled his shirt out of his waistband, and her long fingers were cool on his skin. “Good lord,” he muttered as what was left of his brain cells took the fast train south.

      He tugged at the top of her shirt and trailed kisses from her jaw down her neck and across her collarbone. Just as he moved aside her bra strap, a horn honked from the driveway below. He bolted upright. The horn blared again, this time followed by a chorus of loud whooping and slamming doors.

      “Travers, where the hell are you? Let’s get this party started, man!” a deep voice called.

      Josh met Sara’s gaze, knew his eyes were as hazy as hers. He stepped away and cursed under his breath, dug the heel of his hand into his forehead, willing his brain to start functioning again.

      “Who is that?” she asked, her voice shaky as she readjusted her shirt.

      He cursed again. “Our first guests.”

      “Your friends from the rodeo? I thought they weren’t coming until next week.”

      “Sounds like they’re early.”

      She blew out a breath. “Right. We can do this. I’ll find April and have her whip up something for dinner. Most of the things on the itinerary can be moved up to the next few days. I’ll make calls once everyone is settled. Ryan can at least put sheets on a few beds.” She turned toward the door, all business.

      He tugged on her arm, pulling her back against him, and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his lips just grazing her ear.

      “No, I’m freaking out. These are the first paying guests. Things have to be perfect.”

      “As long as we have cold beer and lots of food, they’ll be fine. I mean, are you okay?”

      She stiffened in his arms and he held her tighter. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about my mother. I’ll try to control her better.”

      “You’re not responsible for your mom. She shouldn’t have said what she did to you. It will work out in the end. I’m not giving up.” He paused then asked, “Are we okay?”

      She wiggled until he released her. “There is no we, Josh.”

      Irritation bubbled in him. “That’s funny, because I don’t think I was kissing myself just now.”

      She threw him an eye roll over her shoulder. Her big blue eyes held none of the spark he’d seen earlier. She’d been so relaxed on the mountain, more of whom he believed she truly was. Not the guarded, fragile woman who stood before him now. “We were both upset. No big deal. It was a kiss, not a marriage proposal.”

      Her attitude got under his skin and he couldn’t help baiting her. “Are you looking for a marriage proposal, Sara?”

      “Not from you, cowboy,” she answered with a scoff, but her shoulders tensed even more.

      He wanted to grab her, kiss her until she was once again soft and pliant in his arms. The horn honked for a third time and he heard a loud knocking at the front door.

      Sara smoothed her fingers over her shirtfront. “Go greet your buddies. I’ll get everyone moving.”

      “This conversation isn’t finished,” he told her as he headed for the stairs.

      “My end of it is,” he heard her say under her breath.

      He smiled despite his frustration, wondering how the fact that she always had to get in the last word could be so endearing to him. He shook his head, making a mental note to start thinking with his brain rather than other parts of his anatomy.

      * * *

      Sara came through the back door of the main house an hour later. Music streamed into the kitchen as April appeared from the family room, two empty platters in her hand.

      “You’d think those guys hadn’t eaten in months,” she grumbled. But Sara noticed her grin and the light in her eyes. April was at her best when she could take care of people.

      “I’ve got the two big cabins made up. That should hold everyone. Do you need anything?”

      “I’ve got another batch of wings ready to come out and