Chapter 1
Charlie thought she was experiencing the worst day of her life as she watched her father’s casket being lowered into the open grave. It should have been overcast and dreary at the cemetery, to match her mood, but it wasn’t. Instead the summer sun beat down on her shoulders and an annoying itch had developed from the beads of sweat rolling down her back as she stood there in silence.
Mourning clothes in black were not ideal for the hot summer weather and her dark hair seemed to make the heat worse, so now her scalp itched, too. At least she didn’t need to worry about a sunburn. The olive-tan skin, which was the only thing she’d inherited from her mother, helped in that respect.
The discomfort was slight in comparison to the pain in her chest, but it didn’t make the day any easier. The bright cloudless sky seemed obscene. How dare the sun shine while she stood there miserable and alone. At least if it had been raining, she could have cried and let the raindrops camouflage the tears. She hated to cry in front of people, and it was a struggle to hold it all inside as she stood there on display.
He had been her only real family and now he was gone. The large crowd of quiet mourners was a testament to how respected James ‘Jimmy’ McGee had been, but none of them approached her during the service. Most of the faces around her were familiar, it being a small town and all, and she couldn’t help but recognize people. Some of them she even considered casual friends, but none of them stood by her side or held her hand as she grieved.
Most of the ranch hands who worked for her father had made a brief appearance out of respect and then gone back to the ranch to put in their usual workday. She’d been a bit shocked at that, almost offended, until someone nudged her and explained that it had been her father’s wish.Thatsounded like Jimmy and she couldn’t deny he’d have hated the solemn event. A good old-fashioned Irish wake with food, dancing, and a whole lot of drinking was more his style.
She just hadn’t had the heart to plan one.
The older ranch hands were almost like family and with them absent there weren’t many present who would think of trying to offer comfort to the grieving daughter. And the one person in the crowd who would—well, their turbulent history meant she couldn’t let herself lean on him for support. He was the one who’d let her know why none of the others from the ranch had stayed; other than that, they hadn’t said much to each other.
Sam said he was there to represent everyone and as the foreman that made sense, but she had a feeling he was actually there to make sure she was getting through it okay. He’d approached her before they’d left for the cemetery and asked if she wanted him to ride with her. There was an unspoken offer to be the shoulder she could cry on, but she’d turned him down.
Her eyes flicked over to where he stood now. Stoic and distant, he also grieved her father’s death and anyone who knew him well could see it. He was clean shaven for a change, the usual scruff gone out of respect. Jeans and work shirt were replaced by a dark suit that managed to look awkward on him, despite the fact that it fit well on his work-toned body. He didn’t feel comfortable dressed up and it showed.
His slightly-too-long hair curled over the collar and her fingers itched to tangle in the dark strands. Part of her regretted turning away his comfort now. It was just one of many regrets she had when it came to him and the list seemed to grow longer every day.
Because of that choice, the area set aside for family was empty except for her and it served as a reminder of how big her loss was. She stood alone and she should have been used to that, but no matter how isolated she’d felt in the past, she’d always known her father would have her back.
Her dad had never understood her, no one did really, but he’d loved and supported her in every way he could. She only wished he’d been able to hold on a little longer, to see her receive her master’s degree. It washisdream, not hers, and it seemed unfair that he hadn’t lived to see it.
She’d never wanted to go back to school, but he’d insisted. She really thought he’d hung on purposely to make sure she didn’t quit if he died before she was done—and she might have, but she’d finished all her requirements and the only thing left now was the actual graduation ceremony. She couldn’t help thinking how proud he would have been to watch her cross the stage with her honors cords and tassel, but then, towards the end he probably wouldn’t have been up for the trip anyway.
It was just an extra bit of cruelty added to his slow decline and illness and it made the grieving harder. She’d never had to deal with such intense feelings of sadness and loss before, and she wasn’t sure how she’d get through them alone. It made it all the more tempting to accept Sam’s offer of comfort, but she knew where that would lead.
The chemistry between them was still there. She always felt it lurking, playing across her skin despite the distance, both physical and emotional, between them. And now when she looked across the grave to where he stood their eyes accidentally met, and a flash of memory shot through her.
Naked, mouths meeting desperately as they tried to fill in the cracks of their relationship with something more physical. Passion had never been the problem between them, and the fighting actually seemed to raise a hunger that could only be sated by sex, so in their last days together the arguing would often morph into hurried grappling wherever they happened to be.
Afterwards she’d have no idea how they’d spiraled into that, but there’d be the taste of him in her mouth and the phantom feel of his fingerprints pressed hard into her flesh. She’d be left with fragments of emotions, and a sense memory that lingered for days afterwards making her blush unexpectedly every time it surfaced.
What she remembered now, when her dark eyes locked with his steel blue, was the last time and she’d never forget it. One minute she was screaming at him, she couldn’t remember now what had started it, there were so many fights back then, and the next he was holding her. Her legs were locked at his waist, her arms looped around his neck. She shoved her tongue into his mouth as he backed her into the wall hard enough to make her gasp against his lips.
She barely noticed the rough boards rubbing against her back though later she’d find her skin raw and red from the friction. His calloused hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and her skimpy underwear was destroyed as he ripped them off of her with one sharp tug. She wasn’t paying any attention to the mechanics of it all, but then he was gripping her hips and positioning her body so he could work his way into her eager heat.
It bordered on painful in that position and she loved it. “Harder, Sam! Harder,” she urged, lips brushing against his neck. She caught his earlobe in her teeth and nipped it hard. It inspired a series of deep thrusts that had her crying out raggedly without any concern for who might walk into the barn and find them there rutting against the wall.
The fear that they were losing each other had lent a poignant franticness to the whole encounter and she could remember wanting to savor every second, as if she’d known it would be their final one. Maybe she did on some level. She left for grad school the next morning as planned, and despite all the lead-up, the end was more of a fizzle than a spectacular bang. Anti-climactic really.
But the memory of that last night was so vivid her body reacted in a way that would have been embarrassing anywhere, but was especially mortifying during a graveside service for her father. She inhaled sharply as something low and deep in her body pulsed. Underneath the neat black dress her wanton body soaked the plain cotton panties she wore, and she had no control over any of it.
Heat crawled up her neck, coloring her face, and she could only hope people didn’t notice as her tan skin deepened to a dark rose. Sam though; the look on his face said he had noticed the change and knew what had caused it. She quickly forced her eyes from his. She’d heard that people reacted to death in strange ways, but this was ridiculous.
She was the reason their relationship had ended, but it was way too late to fix that now.
Three days later, she sat across from the lawyer in shock and knew that there were worse things to feel. The wrenching pain of betrayal on top of her grief had knocked the breath right out of her. Her father’s death had been expected. The insidious creeping cancer that had begun in his lungs and ended up in every organ had given her time to prepare for what was going to happen, but this—this had taken her completely by surprise.
She thought, at first, she’d heard him wrong or misunderstood. “I don’t understand, Mr. Bernard. Can you please explain that part again?” The words sounded strange, distant as they left her mouth, and her face felt oddly numb so for a second she wasn’t actually sure she’d managed to speak at all.
Morris Bernard, attorney at law, had an awkward look on his face. He seemed to be trying for reassuring, but his expression had settled more towards uncomfortable. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d had to deliver unpleasant news, which meant he knew how volatile the reactions could be and he sighed as he set the paperwork down and looked at her. “I take it your father never told you his intentions in regard to his will, Ms. McGee?”
“No. We never talked about any of this, but I’m his only family, so I assumed it was just a formality of transferring everything over into my name.” She was beginning to regret turning down the offer of a drink when she’d been ushered into the office. Her mouth was dry, and her hands felt cold. A hot cup of coffee would have helped with both of those problems, but she’d expected it to be a short meeting.
“Yes.” Just that one word and then he sighed again. “Well, I’m afraid things are a little more complicated than that. Your father had the land divided into two parcels. The house and the acres it sits on are completely yours and the title and deed will be transferred over to you without issue. On top of that, you’ve also inherited his investment accounts, stocks and bonds—You’re quite a wealthy young lady.”
