The Brazen (Calamity Montana)

I SHOVED off my pillow and peeled my eyes open. Waking up felt like crawling out of a black hole. When was the last time I’d slept that hard? There was a dull throb at my temples but nothing like the pounding headache I’d had last night on the couch. Whatever I’d caught had hit hard but hopefully a long night’s sleep had knocked it out of me.

It took me a few moments to summon the strength to climb out of bed, and after a few dizzy steps, I made my way to the bathroom.

A steaming shower chased away most of the fog and the stench of a hard, sweaty sleep. My forehead didn’t feel hot, so my fever must have broken. And finally, I didn’t feel like there was a jackhammer in my skull.

Dressed in my last pair of clean sweats, I headed downstairs to find Kerrigan. The glare from the windows made me squint. Beyond the glass, the world was nothing but white. Snow was piled up against the house nearly three feet tall, but the storm had passed. The sky was a cheerful blue and the sun was blinding.

Kerrigan was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove wearing my gray sweats. Her back was to me and her hair was piled into a messy bun. A few tendrils tickled the long line of her neck.

She was beautiful.

I rocked on my heels as she moved with such grace and elegance, she could have been dancing, not cooking. And like I had too many times, I let myself drink her in. Last night, had she not been on the other end of the living room and had I not felt like complete shit, I would have kissed her again. I would have kissed her and never stopped.

She moved, half turning my way, and I tore my feet from the floor before she could catch me staring.

“Morning.”

Kerrigan spun away from the stove where a pot was steaming. The scent of spices filled the room. “Afternoon.”

“Uh . . .” The clock on the microwave showed it was nearly two. Grandpa hadn’t had an alarm clock in the master because when he’d come here, he’d refused to be on a schedule.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t afford to sleep an entire morning away.

“I didn’t realize I’d slept so long. I don’t even remember going to bed last night.”

“It’s actually Tuesday.” She turned down the stove’s burner and faced me. “You slept Monday away.”

My jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “You were in bad shape.”

“Hell.” I shuffled to a stool at the island and sat down. My phone was on the counter, plugged into a charger. I picked it up and scrolled through a mass of unread emails.

“How are you feeling?” Kerrigan braced her hands on the island.

“Not that bad, actually. I guess I just needed to sleep.” For almost two days.

“I talked to Nellie yesterday and told her you were sick. She said she’d run interference on your calendar and clear it for the rest of the week.”

I raked a hand through the damp strands of my hair. “Thanks. I’ll have to check in with her.”

“Go ahead. I was just making some soup in case you woke up.”

“Give me five.” I slid off the stool but paused. “You stayed.”

The storm had passed. The roads were probably being cleared. It was Tuesday yet she was still here.

“You, um . . . asked me to stay.”

“I did?”

“It was no big deal.” She lifted a shoulder. “The roads are still closed, and I didn’t want to leave you alone. When your fever didn’t break yesterday, I was worried that I’d have to load you on a sled and pull you to a hospital. But it broke this morning.”

She’d checked on me. Often, it seemed. When was the last time someone had taken care of me? Not since I was a kid, and even then, it had been a nanny.

Something twisted in my chest. It was a feeling I hadn’t had in a long, long time.

“Thank you. For staying.”

“Of course.”

“And for cooking.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It’s sort of an experiment given the ingredients in the fridge so I hope it tastes all right.”

There were emails waiting. I needed to talk to Nellie. But I set my phone aside because the woman in this kitchen had my complete attention.

“Are you going to call Nellie?” she asked.

I shook my head. “It can wait. I’d rather try your experimental soup.”

She smiled, then went about ladling her creation into two bowls, setting them out. Then she poured me a huge glass of orange juice before taking a seat at my side.

I moaned at the first spoonful. “You’re giving my chef a run for his money.”

“I’m an amateur compared to my mom. She’s the real cook in the family. There were always lots of mouths to feed at our house.”

“Oh? Do you have a lot of siblings?”

“An older brother and a younger sister. But my entire family is from Calamity. Aunts and uncles on both sides. Our house always seemed to be the center of the action. Mom would cook for us and whichever cousins were over to play.”

“That sounds entirely different than my childhood.”

“You’re an only child, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, and though they’d never call me an accident, I don’t think my parents had ever intended to have kids. I was the result of a week in Paris and a lot of wine. My mom couldn’t make soup from scratch to save her life. Not that she’d try. I love her dearly, but she’s always known her limitations.”

“Gabriel told me she traveled a lot.”

“If she’s home for two weeks out of the month, it’s a lot. Mom is accustomed to a lifestyle of ultimate freedom—from work and money. Grandpa would have given her a job if she’d wanted one, but she doesn’t need to work. Dad is the same. His family comes from money too.”

“And what did you do while they traveled the world? Did you go with them?” she asked.

“Sometimes. Mostly, I stayed home in the hands of their capable staff. And I spent a lot of time with Grandpa. He’d come and rescue me. Take me to dinner. Invite me to his place to spend the night. On the weekends when he went into his office, he’d bring me along. I’d sit at his desk and he’d give me projects, so it felt like I was working too.”

She smiled. “Is that why you followed in his footsteps instead of your parents’?”

“I suppose. I went to Harvard because that was his alma mater. I went to work for his company after I graduated.”

He’d been my hero.

Once.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, changing the subject. “Are you sick?”

“I feel fine.” Her gaze darted past me to the windows. “A little guilty for being trapped here and leaving the gym to my mom to run. Plus I stole her car. But it’s not like I’ve got options. I’ve never seen this much snow. According to the news, it’s a record.”

“When did it stop?”

“Not that long ago. A few hours. And we’re supposed to get more tonight. When I talked to Mom this morning, she said that the plows are having a hard time keeping up.”

Their misfortune was my luck because the idea of being trapped with her for a few more days was the best I’d heard in weeks.

“Since you’re stuck with me, you might as well put me to work,” she said. “I’m happy to help you clean out Gabriel’s things.”

“What if I wanted to avoid it for another day?”

“That would be fine too.”

“Feel like another movie?”

Work was waiting and while I couldn’t unbury myself from the snow, I should tackle a hundred emails. But at the moment, all I wanted to do was curl up on a couch beside Kerrigan and relax.

Which was exactly what we did. The two of us finished our soup and retreated to the theater room. We watched a movie until dark, then retreated to the kitchen for a dinner of pasta shells and salad that had been provided by the club.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as we stood side by side at the sink, doing dishes.

She smirked. “I should be asking you that question.”

“I’m good.” Spending the day with her had been rejuvenating. Unplugging, just being in her company . . . it was like I hadn’t been sick at all. “I was thinking about jumping in the hot tub. What do you think?”

“Oh, I don’t have a suit.”

Naked. Naked was definitely an option.

“But you go ahead,” she said.

There was probably a suit around here, but only one woman would have left a bikini behind, and I didn’t want Kerrigan in her clothes.

“Or . . . you could just wear your underwear,” I suggested.

Her eyes snapped up to mine and the swirl of lust was unmistakable. Those beautiful brown eyes drifted to my mouth, and I was done.

I captured her lips, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into my chest.

Kerrigan gasped and her hands came to my shoulders, holding on as I dragged my tongue over that goddamn perfect mouth. She parted for me and I dove inside, my tongue tangling with hers.

God, she tasted good. Better than I remembered.

We melted into each other. She clung to me as I tightened my hold. Whatever I recalled from the kiss I’d given her at the motel was insignificant compared to this.

This kiss was the best of my damn life. Until the next. And the next. Something about this woman made me feel that it would only get better. Kiss after kiss, she’d put the past to shame.

She sank into my arms as I nipped at her full lower lip, taking it between my teeth. A whimper escaped her throat and that sound shot straight to my groin.

With a tilt of my hips, I pressed my arousal into her belly, earning another startled, sexy gasp.

“Pierce,” she whispered, pulling back a fraction of an inch.

“Don’t say stop.” My chest heaved as I brought my hands to her hair, threading my fingers into those silky locks. Then I met those eyes of hers, the enchanting brown orbs that had drawn me into her spell.

She swallowed hard. “You’re sick.”

“Were.” One afternoon and evening with her and I felt like a new man.

“Maybe we should just . . . slow down.”

I groaned and dropped my forehead to hers. She was right. If we kept going, I’d fuck her on the kitchen island and that was not what I wanted. Not with her.

“How about that hot tub?” she asked, sliding free of my hold.

I nodded. “I’ll meet you out there.”

First, I needed a moment to get myself under control.

Her eyes flicked to my sweats and the corner of her mouth turned up when she saw the obvious bulge. The smirk widened as she slipped past me, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink that matched her swollen lips. Then she disappeared from the kitchen and I closed my eyes, dragging a hand over my face.

God, this was stupid. This was probably the most foolish thing to do tonight. I wasn’t in a position to have any sort of relationship, but Kerrigan was so damn tempting.

And tonight, I wasn’t strong enough to resist.

We had no future.

I’d have to explain that to her.

Later.

I left the kitchen and strode down the hallway to my room, where I traded out my sweats for a pair of board shorts. Then I hurried to the patio door. One blast of the winter air and goose bumps pebbled my skin.

I clenched my jaw, swiped the shovel that was propped up against an exterior wall and went to work clearing a footpath to the hot tub. Thankfully, the overhang of the roof protected most of this area from the storm but the wind had still blown in a fair amount of snow.

The hot tub itself was sunken into the concrete slab. I brushed off some of the snow on its cover, then hit the button on the wall to open it up and start the jets. The warm water was nearly too hot for my frozen feet.

The moment my shoulders dipped below the steaming surface, the sliding door to the house opened and Kerrigan stepped outside, her arms wrapped around her waist. Her arms only accentuated the delicious swell of her breasts.

Oh, fuck me. “Those are your underwear?”

Her bra was a nude lace that gave the illusion she wasn’t wearing a thing. Her matching panties barely covered her ass. I’d seen her in skintight leggings before but they’d hidden the smooth, toned skin of her long legs. One look and I was hard.

She smiled as she stepped into the tub, sinking beneath the water. “What were you expecting? Granny panties?”

“I think you’d best stay on that side of the tub,” I said, moving to the corner farthest from hers.

She giggled. “Probably a good idea.”

The conversation I’d planned to have later—much later—couldn’t wait. I didn’t trust myself around her in those panties and bra. If she gave me even the slightest opening, I’d take it.

And before that happened, she needed to know there was a line in the sand I couldn’t cross.

“About earlier, Kerr. The kiss.”

She relaxed against the wall of the tub. Steam snaked around her face, and for a moment I forgot what I was supposed to say. “The kiss?”

Right. “I’m not in a place to have a relationship. Probably something I should have told you before I kissed you.”

There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes but she forced a smile. “It’s okay. Now that we’ll have a business relationship, it’s better to keep this professional.”

I fucking hated professional.

But she was right.

I also fucking hated that she was right.

Kerrigan turned her attention beyond the patio’s overhang. Snow began to fall in tiny specks, dotting the black night.

I sank deeper into the water, enjoying the contrast of its warmth on my body to the frigid air that nipped at my ears.

“It’s peaceful here,” Kerrigan said.

“It is.” I tore my eyes away from her and into the darkness beyond the house. “I was thinking of getting a place like this in the mountains outside Denver.”

“You don’t want to keep this place?”

I shook my head. “This cabin was his. Maybe he’d hoped that I’d keep it. Maybe that’s the reason he had these requests in his will. But Montana isn’t mine. It was his.”

“It’s a big state, Pierce.”

I loved hearing my name in her sweet voice. “I used to spend time here.”

“At this house?”

I nodded. “Grandpa loved it here because it was separate from Colorado. All of his friends have mansions in Aspen and the pretentious ski resorts within driving distance of Denver. But he chose Montana and loved having us come to visit.”

“Us?”

“Me and my wife.”

Her eyes widened. “I, um . . . you’re married?”

“Ex-wife.”

A flash of relief crossed her expression. “I didn’t realize you were married. Gabriel never told me.”

I huffed. He’d told her how many things, but he’d left Heidi out of the equation? “We divorced in March. She was from Montana.”

“There was a photo in the garbage can.” She scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but I saw it the other night and thought it might have been tossed out on accident.”

“Not an accident. I threw it out.”

“That was her? Your ex?”

I nodded. “After he bought this place, she spent a lot of time up here. She’d come here because, for her, it was like coming home.”

And I’d been the idiot to believe her. To trust her.

“Heidi grew up in Bozeman and we met at Harvard. She talked about growing up here often.”

“Is that why Gabriel chose to buy here? Because of her stories?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” I sighed. “It’s hard for me to guess what exactly he was thinking. I’ve spent months and months analyzing the past. Trying to make sense of him. Why he did the things he did. Now that he’s gone, I doubt I’ll ever understand.”

I cast my eyes to the water. The turmoil of the surface was a mirror of how I’d felt all these months.

“Understand what?” Kerrigan asked.

All this time, I’d protected Grandpa’s image by keeping his secret. Not for him. For her. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to ruin his memory for you.”

“Will it?”

I nodded.

She took a moment, thinking it over. Then she whispered, “Tell me anyway.”

“Grandpa used to bring Heidi here. Often.”

Maybe it had started off as an innocent vacation. Maybe he’d wanted Heidi from the beginning. Maybe he’d loved her, like he’d promised.

Maybe he’d just wanted something and he’d taken it, even if that had meant taking it from me.

When I met Kerrigan’s gaze, she was already putting the pieces together. But I wouldn’t make her guess. “They were having an affair.”