“It’s beautiful,” Robin said in awe when Jake turned off the bike. He stood up, helped her off. She walked forward, taking in the serene little valley. It made her long for . . . something. “How did you find it?” she asked.
“Just riding,” he said as he unbuckled one saddlebag and reached inside. “When I can, I like to get away and clear my head.”
Get away from what? she wondered. Had he come here looking for solitude? Or had he brought others here? Like Lindy?
He pulled an insulated cooler from the bag. “Come on,” he said, and reached casually for her hand.
She loved the feel of her hand in his, loved being dragged down the incline by him, loved seeing his hips move determinedly in Levi’s that were so worn in the back that she could actually see the blue checked pattern of his boxers underneath. She wanted to believe they had done this before and would do it again, that she would always feel this warm sense of contentment.
When they reached a barbed-wire fence, Jake dropped her hand and stretched the wires to make an opening big enough for Robin to get through. When she was on the other side, he handed her the bag and climbed over. “Your eyes are the exact color of bluebonnets, did you know that?” he asked, taking the bag and her hand again, as if he had done it a thousand times before.
“I didn’t know that,” she said laughingly.
They walked through the field of wildflowers until they reached the long boughs of a very old live oak. Beneath it was a rickety old wooden picnic table.
“Who owns this place?” she asked as Jake set the insulated bag down.
He winked, gave her a sly grin. “Who knows?”
“You mean we are trespassing?”
“I prefer to call it passing through,” he said, opening the bag.
“What if someone comes?” she asked, surreptitiously admiring his body.
“No one ever comes out here.”
“Okay, well . . . I just sort of promised myself I wouldn’t go to jail anymore.”
“I’ll do my best to keep you from it, but you know, there’s only so much a man can do,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve got beer and peanuts. You like beer?” he asked, reaching into the bag and extracting a longneck.
“I haven’t had a beer in years.”
He twisted the top off and handed her the bottle. “Live dangerously,” he suggested, and helped himself to a beer.
Robin felt like she was living pretty dangerously just being out here with him. Robin took a sip of the beer, felt it slide cold and wet down her throat, soothing her mouth made dry by the ride out. With a smile, she lifted the bottle in mock salute to him. “Excellent vintage.”
He propped himself against the table, one arm across his chest, and took a generous swig of his beer, his eyes never leaving her. “So what do you think of this little field?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’ve probably seen a lot better, but it’s pretty nice for this part of the world.”
“It’s pretty nice for any part of the world.”
He glanced at the field of wildflowers. “It is beautiful, but it all seems to fade next to you.”
The compliment caught Robin off guard; she slowly lowered her beer, arched a curious brow.
“Okay, I’ll confess,” he said, lifting one hand in surrender. “I think you are about the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
Robin was ridiculously pleased to hear it, and her smile grew very wide. “Really? I can’t remember the last time anyone said something so nice to me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And if you weren’t so damn bossy, I’d say you were just about perfect.”
Robin laughed. “Well, if you weren’t so damn pigheaded, I’d say you were just about perfect.”
He laughed with surprise. “You can’t seriously think I’m pigheaded.”
“Oh, please. Impossibly so.”
“Give me an example.”
“Like someone tries to give a you a tip or two on batting—”
“Princess, you must be joking. What could you possibly know about batting?”
“Hey, I’ve batted before! Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean you have a lock on batting, and frankly, the way you were swinging away today, I’d say you could use a lesson.”
He laughed. “I think you’re missing the big picture here.”
“Ookay, just what do you think I am missing?”
“What you are missing,” he said, putting his beer aside, “is that you and I keep dancing around the obvious.”
A funny, warmly delicious little shiver shot right through her. “What obvious?”
Without warning, Jake lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with his knuckle. “It’s obvious,” he said, leaning forward, “that you want me. Bad.” And before she could protest, he caught her by the hand, jerked her forward, and covered her mouth with his own.