“You and me are gonna have some fun these next three weeks.”
Jade studied him but she didn’t say anything. He noticed she did that a lot. Carefully measured her words before she spoke. Was that a trait of her shyness? Or because she was so methodical from her musical training?
Then she smiled and scraped her fingers in his facial scruff. “I like this.”
“I can stand it about one day and then it’s gone. It gets too itchy. Especially when I’m outside and the sun is beating down on me and I’m sweating. Then dirt gets trapped in the damp hair and I’m ready to tear my face off.”
“You were right. I liked how it felt on the insides of my thighs.”
No artifice. Just . . . Jade.
“I am hungry. Let’s go make lunch.”
He set his hand on her shoulder after she scooted to the edge of the bed. “Hold on. Before you said you wanted to talk about two things. What was the other one?”
“We can talk about it downstairs. No biggie.” She stood and stretched.
“You look good naked all stretched out like that, tiger.” One glimpse of her ass and that glorious fall of hair and he’d already started to get hard again.
Jade whipped her head around, sending her hair flying. She peered over her shoulder, gifting him with a coquettish look. “You can do me like this . . . my palms flat on the wall above me, my feet spread, my hips”—she performed a stripper-like pelvis roll—“however you want to position them with those big rough hands.”
Holy fuck. Playful tiger.
Hot tiger.
His dick definitely approved.
Then she tossed her head and spoke to his groin. “Food first, big guy. Then we’ll play.”
Yeah. His dick definitely approved.
After the sandwiches were made and the fruit sliced—Tobin was ridiculously happy that Jade remembered to pour him a glass of milk—they sat at the smaller table in the kitchen.
“All right, cowboy. What would you do with your three weeks if I wasn’t here?”
Tobin swallowed his mouthful of roast beef goodness. “I’d masturbate a lot. Watch some TV. Go fishing.” He took a swig of milk. “What about you?”
“I’d practice.”
“For what? A concert or something?”
She shrugged. “Practicing is just a habit I’ve had my entire life. Some people do yoga or journal or sketch. I practice. I have more sheet music than most school systems, which is embarrassing to admit.” She set her sandwich down. “I’d try and figure out what I want to do for a job. I haven’t been employed in my field of study at all since graduation.” She looked at him as if it pained her to admit that.
“Welcome to the club, darlin’. I’ve been ridin’ the range as a hired hand for the past six years. And before I went full time at the Split Rock, for almost a year I worked part time as a baggage handler and errand boy. Not much need for a master’s in reproductive biology when I’m opening gates and spreading hay.”
“Well that shot down my little whine-fest. Here I thought I was special.”
He laughed. “I’d love to make us both feel better by saying a lot of grads never utilize their degrees, but I happen to be surrounded by folks that are doin’ just that. Janie, the Split Rock GM, went to school for hospitality and business management. Tierney, Renner’s wife, has like four advanced degrees in finance, business and economics. She runs all the finances for the Split Rock and the cattle company. Plus, she has her own financial consulting business, which to be honest? I don’t even know what that means except she knows how to make money and other people pay her to show them how. Then there’s Fletch, the local veterinarian. He performs surgeries and all that medical stuff he went to school for.”
“So why didn’t you end up at a research lab someplace?”
“Good question. Jobs were really tough then. Not that it’s that much easier now. I’d spent time in Brazil during grad school and developed the mind-set that I just wanted to be home. In Wyoming.” He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “I don’t know where I thought I’d get a job. Not a ton of research facilities out on the prairie. So I didn’t look real hard for work beyond the state border. Which means, I’m pretty much a dumb-ass.”
Jade covered her hand with his. “Don’t say that. My parents encouraged me to get my master’s and I couldn’t fathom why I’d want an advanced degree in a subject that wasn’t employable with a basic degree. I still love history. Still love that time period. So I can play music from the Renaissance era and tell you all about the history, the politics and the literature from then. It is excellent cocktail party talk.” She smirked. “If I was the type who actually spoke to people at cocktail parties, instead of hiding in the corner wondering if my shoes look okay with my dress.”