Wrapped Up in You (Heartbreaker Bay, #8)(61)

“But you just said he doesn’t have the capital.”

“He doesn’t.” He slid her a quick look. “He’s looking for a business partner.”

She blinked again. “You want a horse ranch.”

“I have a horse ranch.”

There was a warmth in her chest now. She wasn’t quite sure, but she thought maybe it was hope. “So . . .”

“What I don’t have is a horse ranch near San Francisco. What I do have is my own capital from years of being badgered by Caleb to invest wisely.”

She sucked in some air. “And you like San Francisco.”

“A whole lot,” he said. “But more than the city, I like who’s in it.”

“Your family.”

“Yes.” Eyes on the road, he reached out and took her hand. “And . . .”

“Cowboy bars.”

“Ivy.”

She let the warmth spread. “Me,” she breathed.

“Yes.”

Forty-five minutes from the city, they were leaning against the front of his truck. The headlights were still on, revealing what looked like endless land. The stars above had never seemed so bright. “It’s beautiful,” she said quietly in the night air. “You’d live out here?”

“No,” he said, surprising her. “At least not full-time.”

She turned and looked at him. Cupping her face, he smiled. “I find I’m feeling the city again. It’s exciting there, and I want to work with Caleb.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “But I like this for an investment. Donovan would run the day-to-day. I’d oversee and manage.”

“You like to manage a lot of things,” she said. “Your sister said you’re naturally bossy.”

He smiled. “What about you, do you think I’m bossy?”

“You can be.” She smiled back. “In bed. Which, just FYI, is the only place I like you a little bossy.”

Pulling her into him, he kissed her for a good long time. When he lifted his head, she was shocked to find they were still out in the middle of nowhere. “Home,” she said. “Bed.”

“I’m not the only bossy one.” He nipped at her lower lip. “And FYI . . . I like you bossy wherever you want.”

The tension in the air on the drive home was palpable, and all erotic heat. She didn’t speak, and neither did Kel, he just drove with a quiet intensity that had her all revved up. She watched his hand on the wheel, the sinewy muscles of his forearms whenever he moved, and utterly unable to contain it, a small sound of longing escaped her.

Kel glanced over at her and then took a second, longer look. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, voice low. Sexy.

“The ways I intend to pay you back for the tree house.”

His eyes darkened and heated, and he picked up the speed a bit, swearing roughly beneath his breath when she put a hand on his hard thigh. After that, there was touching, lots of touching, and by the time Kel found a spot near her building, Ivy was near combustion.

After pulling the keys, Kel put a hand on her arm, warm and steady. “Wait for me.”

Everything about him was warm and steady, and she’d never considered those traits a turn-on before, but in Kel they were incredibly arousing. She watched him round the front of the truck as he came to her side to let her out, nerves on fire for him. When he opened her door, she slid down, making sure to rub up against him, enjoying the response she got.

They practically ran up the three flights of stairs. She was winded, but not from running. They stumbled inside together, wrapped up in each other, mouths already fused. Kel kicked the door shut, hit the lock, and then pressed her back against the wood.

Which was as far as they got before they jumped each other.



When Ivy could breathe again, she lifted her head. She was flat on her back on the floor, naked. Kel was in the same state next to her, except he had one sock still on, which made her laugh.

At the sound, he turned his hand toward her. His gaze softened as he smiled, completely comfortable in his own skin. “You’d laugh at a naked man?”

“When all he’s wearing is one sock.”

“That’s because you tore my clothes off in your desperation to get to my good parts, and you forgot to take it off.”

“I was not desperate,” she corrected. “I’m never desperate.”

“Baby, you were desperately desperate.”

“Oh please,” she said, even while doing a little quiver at the endearment and also while knowing that okay, yeah, she’d been desperately desperate.

“You begged.”

“I absolutely did not beg,” she said.

He just smiled at her, and she remembered panting his name with a whole bunch of “oh pleases” and “don’t stops” . . . Fine. So she’d begged. “Don’t get used to it.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged. Tucking her into his side, he looked into her face, his own unusually revealing.

It’s not that he was as guarded as she, but he wasn’t exactly an open book either. Life and the job he’d chosen had given him a dark side, an edge, and knowledge that people were not innately good. He’d put walls up. Understandably, she thought.