Page 72 of Rocky Mountain Desire
Matt crushed her to him, kissing the hell out of her. She clung to his neck, her fingernails poking into the fabric of his light coat hard enough he felt them to the skin.
Then she pushed him away and crawled into the cab. She grinned down at him. “By the way, about riding shotgun? I just remembered you can’t. There’s no seat belt on that side.”
Matt backed up reluctantly. “Have fun.”
Being a spectator and hanging out on the hillside was way harder than any previous time he’d watched a pair take the field. Only she was right—he didn’t get to boss her around out here. Matt accepted a bottle of beer from someone but ignored the lawn chairs. He needed to be on his feet.
Joel and Hope revved their engines again, rocking the trucks in place. Jesse waved them to start, and the trucks shot forward. Joel was ahead of Hope as they hit the first section of the field where the snow was down to brown soil and the faded yellow of dried grass. Hope drove farther to the right, avoiding a largish puddle. Her left rear tire hit the center of a pothole and dirty water sprayed everywhere. A loud cheer rose from the watchers, and Matt had to smile. Yeah. It wasn’t going to be trouble.
Not until Joel jerked in too close, his truck shimmying sideways and totally cutting into Hope’s path. She pulled up short and paused for a moment, then slammed it back into gear and took Joel on the opposite side. Crossing behind him and racing past, her truck jolted and swayed, mud flying as she spun and readied for the return trip.
She was well ahead of Joel by this time. He’d gotten stuck in a rut and was rocking his truck in a futile attempt to free it. Matt laughed and ignored his brother, instead enjoying how Hope barreled down the last third of the field, taking the most level path possible. The truck bounced and jerked, and people shouted.
Wild and crazy, simple and dirty. The sort of fun that made his parents roll their eyes good-naturedly. The fresh Chinook wind surrounded them like a promise, bringing a shot of spring into the middle of winter.
Hope turned at the end of the field and popped open her door to stand on the running board and raise her hands in victory. Matt whooped back and clapped as he sped down the hill, headed for her parking space.
Two new trucks came forward for their turn while Jesse drove around the perimeter to rescue Joel who was still stuck.
Hope’s face shone with delight as she leapt into his arms. “Damn, that was fun.”
Matt brought their lips together again. He was a bit addicted to the taste of her mouth. To the touch of her body against his. He leaned back but kept their bodies in contact. “You did great.”
Hope snorted. “Yeah, the way I went off the road before Christmas, you probably thought I couldn’t drive at all.”
“Well, icy-road conditions are different than this. And Herbie was possessed.”
She smacked a hand against his chest. “That’s like the worst compliment I’ve ever heard.”
“Fine, you’re the queen of the mudhole.”
They went back up the hillside. This time Matt grabbed one of the double lawn chairs his brothers had brought, curling Hope up in his lap and wrapping a blanket around their legs as they watched the rest of their friends and his cousins take turns tearing the field apart.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed this sort of thing.” Matt pulled off his gloves and slipped his hands under her shirt so his palms rested against her bare belly. Her warm flesh in his hands was the best part of the afternoon. She leaned back and closed her eyes, face toward the fading sun.
“I love it all. The picnics and the drive-in theater. Fishing and campouts. It’s part of the reason I wanted to live in Rocky. I like it here, and I like the things people do for fun.”
The fact he could tell it wasn’t an act made her words that much more powerful.
They pulled the last truck from the mess shortly after the sun dipped below the horizon, a few final red and gold streaks crossing the sky to light their way back to the main Coleman house.
“I’ll turn on the grill and get the food started.” Joel gestured those joining them forward. “Anyone who needs to get cleaned up go ahead—guys use the bunkhouse shower room off the downstairs. Ladies, take the main floor bath and my folks’. They’re out for the evening.”
Jesse glanced at the young woman tucked under his arm. “Well, you’re a damn spoilsport, Joel.”
His twin sneered. “If I’m stuck cooking, there ain’t nobody having fun in the showers.”
Hope laughed as Matt reluctantly pushed her toward the upstairs bath. “I need to go—I ain’t cleaned up since I finished chores.”
She looked him over, long and hard, admiring everything from his jeans to his smile. “I volunteer to come and help scrub.”
He smiled as he backed away. “You go on and keep thinking those thoughts. I’m pretty sure we can come to some kind of arrangement pretty damn soon.”
By the time she’d washed off the mud and put on a clean pair of jeans, there was a delicious scent floating on the air. A plate piled high with ribs sat on the counter, a huge pot of baked beans on the stove. The crowd had dwindled to a dozen bodies, and after demolishing the food, that number dropped to just the unmarried Six Pack Coleman boys and three females—Hope included. Everyone else took their leave, happy smiles and sunshine-brightened faces following the laughter and content sounds of family.
Joel turned on music as Travis lit the fire in the downstairs family room, the long row of windows facing toward the ranch showcasing the lights of the outbuildings as they sparkled in the winter setting. “Temperature’s fallen again. Those Chinooks never stay long, do they?”
“It was fun while it lasted. Did you enjoy yourself, Zoë?” Jesse leaned closer to his date and lazily drew a finger down the buttons of her blouse.
