Hope Springs (Compass Girls) Page 7

  “It’s a good idea, honey.” Colby smiled.

  “You can keep an eye on Wyatt and feed this boy some more soup,” Lucy joined in.

  “But I don’t have anything else to share.” Clayton could kick himself for not taking the time to shop. Son of a bitch, it would have been nice to have some company. “Sorry. You’d be better off leaving.”

  “Nonsense.” Lucy wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ll have Austin run over some supplies in a while, how about that?”

  Hope turned radiant when her full-on smile graced her lovely face. Plump lips parted, making him think of naughty things. She trotted over to her parents then hugged and kissed them all, one by one. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

  She whirled toward Clay again, her hair turning into a soft silken sheet.

  When she caught the emotion in his stare she paused, maybe mistaking it for reluctance instead of awe. “Unless…”

  “No. I’d like that. A lot.” He couldn’t say what inspired him unless it was Silas and the way he’d done the same with his mates. Clayton held out his hand.

  His Compass Girl nibbled her still-damaged lip before closing the gap between them.

  Hope blushed when she looked at her parents. Her fingers linked with Clayton’s as she perched on the arm of the sofa. Her mother nodded at her and smiled.

  “Call us if you need anything.” Her dad, Silas, made it clear with a single pointed glare that included ass-kicking.

  “Bye.” She wiggled her free fingers at her daddy, Colby, who took the hint. He opened the door and ushered them out. “Wow, sorry.”

  “If I had a daughter I’d do the same.” Clayton rubbed the spot between her thumb and forefinger. “Especially if she was as adorable as you.”

  She shivered. “I appreciate them. I swear I do. But sometimes it’s a little much. I’m probably the world’s most sheltered twenty-three-year-old. I think part of the problem is that I’m still in school, so they don’t think of me as out on my own. Well, that and the fact that I still sort of live at home. Maybe I should look at an apartment in town.”

  “No, don’t. You like staying with your cousins, right?” He seemed genuinely interested. “I always see you four in the yard, laughing, smiling, joking, talking with your grandmother on the porch. Seems like you’ve been doing that more lately. I mean, not like I’m stalking you or anything. Just that…”

  “I’ve seen you too.” She smiled and touched his tense arm. Why did she keep doing that? And why did he keep letting her. “You ride really well. I love the way you handle the animals. Even the greenest horses let you close. More than any of the other cowboys. Sometimes they accept you even easier than my Uncle Seth.”

  “Yeah, it’s a weird talent I’ve always had.” He shrugged, then lapped up some more of her soup. She realized he was scraping the bottom of the bowl.

  “Here, let me refill you.”

  “Thanks.” He shot her a sheepish grin. “Um, do you want some for yourself?”

  Hope laughed. “No, you go ahead. I’m good to hang on until my little brother shows up.”

  A groan snuck past her lips as she prepared the second helping, excited he’d liked it well enough to take more. Though, hungry as he was, it probably wouldn’t have mattered what she set in front of him.

  “What is it?” Clayton started to rise until she waved him off.

  “Just that Austin is going to grill you.” She shook her head. “He idolizes all the ranch hands, like Doug does. I’m sure they pester you enough at work.”

  “Nah. It’s nice. Kind of fun.” He patted the seat beside him so she joined him on the couch again. In between spoonfuls of stew, which he slurped greedily, he continued, “I wish I hadn’t had to be so cynical when I was their age. Wyatt too. Some hero worship might have done us good.”

  “You didn’t have any role models around growing up?” Hope wondered if he’d answer when he took several more swallows.

  “No. We just had each other. Grown-ups weren’t really trustworthy in our world. My mom and his dad hooked up when we were kids.” He stared off out the window at the gathering dusk. “Mostly for drugs. I mean, on my mom’s side of the bargain, anyway. His dad, well, he used her. I think he hoped my mom would take care of Wy and his sister. But she was so far gone after a while…”

  Hope laid her head on Clay’s shoulder. She rubbed the knots from his neck and shoulders with one hand, but didn’t say anything. No words could heal his heart. Affection might though. Picturing the lonely, scared child he’d been, she attempted to infuse him with caring.

  “Yeah. My mom didn’t come home one time. We never heard from her again. Honestly, I know she OD’d. I guess the details aren’t important.”

  Hope disagreed, but she didn’t dare interrupt him.

  “Wy’s dad drank whenever he could afford another bottle. I’m not sure he even noticed when my mom died. Except that he was pissed he got stuck with three kids to feed. Then Wy’s sister—” Clay seemed awfully interested in the pea he swirled around with his spoon. “Well, he and I split. I was twelve. He was thirteen. We got odd jobs and stole some until we could find something steady. Legitimate.”

  “I’m sorry.” She hugged him then, giving up all semblance of distance between them. “That had to hurt your pride. You’re an honorable guy.”

  “How would you know?” His huff annoyed her.

  “Maybe because you risked your own ass for mine Monday night?” She growled when she realized he’d made her curse again.

  “I guess there’s that.” Clayton dropped his spoon in the re-emptied bowl. While she peeked over her shoulder to glimpse Wyatt through the open doorway, still resting, Clay angled his knees toward hers until they bumped together. “But how do you know I wasn’t being selfish? Maybe I wanted what they were about to take. Could be I’m tired of always putting everyone else’s needs ahead of mine. When the hell is it my turn?”

  “Right now.” With her chin raised, she welcomed his advance. It might not be good manners to make out with another guy’s boyfriend while he was injured in the next room. But she considered the infraction temporary. Someday soon Wyatt would have a chance at the same. If he wanted it. Still, it might be best to check out her assumptions. “I mean, as long as that won’t put you in a bad spot with your boyfriend. I don’t know how things work between you.”

  “He and I have always been clear with each other. If there’s a woman we’re attracted to, we go for it. Sometimes that’s been solo. Most times together. Gotta say, he’d be in my corner this time, no doubt. I’ve seen how he looks at you. Probably he’d call me a lucky bastard, but he wouldn’t stop it.”

  “Then I stand by what I said. It’s your turn. Right now. This time…take.”

  Clayton pounced.

  They jiggled as the worn couch gave beneath their momentum. Hope welcomed Clay’s weight and the press of his body, full-length, against hers. The storminess of his eyes had her reaching up, burying her fingers in his hair. It was as soft as she remembered.

  “Hell, yes,” he whispered before pouring himself into a kiss so full of desperation and aching tenderness that tears stung her eyes.

  She’d never been kissed like this. With soft sweeps of his mouth and rough licks of his tongue over the seam of her lips. A gasp allowed him entrance and he took full advantage. Though urgent, she never would have called his sucks and nips selfish.

  Hope gave Clay everything he asked for, all he wanted, and then some because what she needed was the same. A man who saw past the family name she carried and teased out the adventurous side lurking deep inside her. Gentle, yet fierce. Bold, yet careful.

  Breath came in small pants that didn’t do much for relieving the burning in her chest. She struggled to get closer to him and to find space to gasp for air. Her breasts mashed against his chest and the heavy slice of his arrowhead rested in the dip of her collarbone.

  When he traveled from her mouth to her neck, she arched off the couch. His teeth sank into the skin bene
ath her ear just enough to make her whimper for more. The bend of her spine aligned them completely. Even through his jeans, there was no hiding his hardness beneath.

  What should she do about it? Her hand roamed down his chest and cupped the bulge. Wonder coursed through her. So big. So rigid.

  What would it feel like to have him inside her? She stiffened, a little fear mixing with her arousal and excitement.

  Clay froze above her. They both blinked.

  He reared back so fast he nearly knocked the cushion from the couch. “Whoa. What the—that got way out of hand. I’m sorry, Hope. I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t.”

  “Because of Wyatt?” She pressed her fingers to her still-tingling lips. The taste of Clayton on her tongue was delicious. Thinking was nearly impossible when every system in her body was in full-steam-ahead mode although he’d already slammed on the brakes.

  “Kind of. Maybe. I don’t know.” Clay tumbled to his ass on the far side of the couch. His legs ran parallel to hers. Hope mimicked him until the whole length of the seat guaranteed they couldn’t molest each other again for the moment.

  “There’s a lot going on today.” For her too. From nothing to everything in minutes. Powerful rushes of excitement and trepidation pulsed through her veins. It was scary. Almost like she had tried the drugs his mother had fallen victim to instead of an anything-but-simple kiss. And she wanted to do it again. Now. “Maybe I should go.”

  Hope glanced into the other room where Wyatt lay still beneath a layer of blankets she suspected he never otherwise used. He’d been so hot when she touched his feverish skin. Some of that came from within, not a byproduct of his system battling his infection.

  She’d bet Clayton never went to bed cold.

  How could she risk that bond for them? She hadn’t had time to really talk to her mom. How did this work? What if she broke them apart? She’d never forgive herself.

  “Please, don’t.” Clay rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Wyatt might need you.”

  “And you?” she wondered aloud, unafraid of being direct. No sense in being coy now.

  “I need you too. Stay. We’ll talk. Watch a movie. No more…” He swung his finger from his chest to hers and back. “I promise. I just—don’t leave me alone tonight, please.”

  Shit. She wished he weren’t so damn admirable. But it was for the best.

  The instincts he employed every time he tamed one of the ranch horses had flared to life at her momentary hesitation. And when they settled next to each other again, their hands clasped tightly together, she knew he’d been right. Smarter than her. As the night wore on, she realized the closeness forming between them had more to do with who they were than the chemical reaction that lit her body on fire when they touched. Though that certainly didn’t hurt.

  And tomorrow they’d have to confess to Wyatt what they’d done. How they felt. Because she wasn’t imagining the force with which the man beside her clung in return.

  What they hell were they going to do now?

  Chapter Six

  Something disturbed Hope’s doze. She burrowed deeper into the squishy bed and tried to ignore Daniel and whoever he argued with.

  “You did what?” Wyatt’s roar—not Daniel’s—had her bolting upright. Not in her room or even her home. She oriented herself to the bunkhouse as the rumble of Clay’s urgent persuasion added to her discomfort.

  She wished she could hear what he said.

  Was it an apology for what they’d shared? The places they’d touched still hummed with energy and happy tingles.

  “You’re only going to end up hurting her. You dumbass. Haven’t you learned anything?”

  More low, fast talking.

  “I don’t care if she kisses as good as she looks. No. And no again.”

  Elation mixed with hurt. Smug, she grinned hearing that she’d affected Clay. Vanity warred with the sting of rejection.

  “It’s never going to happen, Clay.” Wyatt got so thunderous, she knew he was sending her a message.

  Received. Loud and clear.

  “Absolutely never.”

  Hope blinked away the tears gathering there. She refused to invest more of herself in an ungrateful asshole, even if he had a spectacular best friend. Enough of that nonsense had resulted in an epic failure with John.

  After slipping on her sneakers, she slunk toward the clear Wyoming air and freedom from the pain Wyatt inflicted on her with every crushing syllable. Her fingers clenched the doorknob when Clay emerged from the bedroom.

  “Shit, Hope. I’m so sorry you heard that.” His face burned crimson. With rage or embarrassment, maybe both. “He didn’t mean—”

  “Quit making excuses for your asshole roommate.” She shook her head. “You’re lying to yourself and allowing him to bully you. At what cost, Clay? You may have a warm body to keep you company, but you’re as lonely as I am.”

  She crossed to the man who’d chatted the night away with her. Hardly recognizable now, his eyes were shuttered and his easy familiarity had vanished.

  “He’ll come around.” Clay swallowed hard.

  “I deserve better than having to convince a cranky cowboy to be with me.” She paused and stared into his sensual eyes, remembering how they had nearly glowed with suppressed passion last night. “So do you. You know where to find me if you wise up.”

  He flinched, his spine so stiff beneath her palms that she abandoned her embrace for fear of snapping him in two.

  “Make sure he eats when he takes those pills. My mom will probably stop in at lunch to check on his progress. If you need help before then, call Dr. Hill. I left the number on the nightstand yesterday.”

  Her leaden feet required a lot of force to shuffle toward the exit. All her dreams had revolved around the promise of paradise she thought these charming walls contained.

  “Hope, wait—”

  She didn’t.

  A bang echoed through the house, likely caused by a man’s fist, as she crossed the porch. She picked up steam, jogging toward home and the cousins who would convince her that her heart couldn’t possibly be as bruised as her face after a single evening, a steamy kiss and one failed experimental walk, toeing the boundary of the wild side.

  Hope pasted on a fake smile and entered the main house on the ranch, where Sunday dinner had already begun. Her dad and uncles had grown up here. They all still felt at home in the sprawling colonial. The Compass clan came and went as they pleased.

  Delaying as long as possible, she’d fussed with her hair. An attempt to hide the damage to her cheekbone was prudent. Maybe not for vanity, as when she’d plotted to be at her most beautiful with Vivi earlier in the week. However, she didn’t want any of her family members winding up in jail, so it was critical to minimize the proof of her pain. Plus, finding another outfit required more give-a-damn than she could muster.

  Prettying up her outside hid some of the ugly negativity festering inside. It wasn’t her style to mope around, all doom and gloom and crap. Hanging out with her family would break her from her slump if anything could.

  The aroma of beef, roasted slow until tender, had her mouth watering at least half as much as Clay had yesterday. The stomp of her foot drew curious glances from a couple of her relatives. But damn it, she couldn’t go more than ten seconds without recalling the laughter they’d shared over cheesy movies or second-guessing her refusal to call and check on Wyatt.

  “You look awfully nice, Hope.” Uncle Sam picked her up and whirled her around as if she hadn’t yet graduated from elementary school. Honestly, she didn’t mind. Carefree and joyous, those days held good memories. Ones she could lean on now. “Trying to impress somebody?”

  Over his shoulder, she caught Aunt Cindi’s wince in the mirror on the fireplace mantle along with the sawing action she drew over her throat as she attempted to subtly warn her husband off behind Hope’s back.

  “Guess I somehow put my boot in my mouth again, huh?” He chuckled.

  “It’s okay.” She patt
ed his chest as he set her down. “I’m kind of glad I’m not the talk of the Mothers. Surprised too.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Aunt Leah laughed. “But maybe we haven’t shared all the gritty details with the Compass Brothers. You know how they get about their girls.”

  “I do.” She rushed into the kitchen to help Vivi before her uncles could demand an explanation.

  Surprised, she drew up short when she found Boone taking a lighthearted slap from her grandmother. The thin guy sported a frilly apron over what probably constituted his entire wardrobe of dress shirts.

  When he caught her tight smile, he paused with a peach cobbler clasped between mismatched potholders, halfway to the open oven.

  “Come on, get it in there.” Vivi laughed. “That’s what she said. Again.”

  Oh my God. “Vivi!”

  “Don’t be such a prude, girly.” Her grandmother’s peal of giggles did a lot to lighten Hope’s heart. “That’s an oldie but a goodie. Surprised Jake knew it. Haven’t heard it in years.”

  Boone looked to Hope but didn’t correct the older woman. Jake was even older than her dads. Certainly not one of the younger generation of ranch workers, though he still had a place of honor in their ranks. If he wasn’t already in the living room watching TV with her uncles, he would be soon. Would that confuse Vivi even more?

  Crap, it was getting harder to mask the slips lately.

  Hope crossed to the sink and began to wash her hands. Boone joined her, with one lean hip propped against the counter and his back turned to her grandmother, who now mashed potatoes vigorously. Frown lines marred her classic beauty.

  “Hey.” He nodded.

  “Hi.” So many questions piled up in her throat that none could break free.

  “You doing okay?”

  “Clay told you about this morning?” She frowned.

  “Um, no. I was talking about the last time I saw you, when you got slightly beat up.” He wiggled his fingers toward her shoulder and her face. “But now I want to know about that.”

  “Oh.” Hope glanced at Vivi, who seemed preoccupied with vaporizing the potatoes, then the rest of her relatives, who were all busy with their own conversations. “Let’s just say words can hurt a hell of a lot more than fists sometimes.”