Colton on the Run Read online

  Something more was going on. He was convinced of that now. Her reluctance went deeper than the fear of being discovered and made to face something she wasn’t ready to remember.

  He hadn’t meant for her to confront all her other fears today, either. The Preston place was more than enough. But if he’d had any doubt whether her issues connected somehow to the police department, they were gone now. There was no faking a reaction like that. And he wasn’t in any rush to provoke another one.

  That said, the day wasn’t over yet.

  And so he stood. Silently. Watching her. Memorizing the sight for the day when she was no longer here. He suppressed a smile as she turned around in circles. She was so focused on the rope, she didn’t notice him.

  “So if I put this this way, and then that way—” She stuck her tongue out slightly between her lips, chin tipped down just enough to obscure her eyes from his sight. “Aha! I got it.” She tugged the two ends of the rope and solidified the knot. “I was faster this time, Duke. What do you think? Will Trap approve?”

  The horse nickered and bobbed his head up and down, and Ollie let out a yelp of greeting before bounding over to Leo.

  His heart swelled as Jane raised her eyes to look at him. She fit. Despite how she’d arrived, despite having no recollection of who she was, she fit. Here, on the ranch. Here. With him. He wanted her, not just in his bed, but in his life. She didn’t just make his days better, she made them brighter. And it wasn’t just the loneliness talking; but that ache, that longing for what he had come to accept might never be, had been eased. All by this woman. And not even the Colorado sunset could compete with his current view. “You do have a way with them.”

  “Trap bet me I couldn’t get this one.” She whipped the knotted rope around. “He owes me a beer. I have a witness.” She gave him a shaky smile. The fear was still there. The aftershock, for want of a better word. Leo hung one of the discarded ropes on a peg and walked over to give Duke a pat on the neck. “You about done?” Polite conversation had become their mainstay. It had to be if he was going to keep the distance he needed to maintain. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “You mean dinner’s unpacked.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d been out here so long.”

  “No harm done. Miss D’s burgers reheat great.” It was a small lie, and the only one he’d told her. So far.

  He loved watching her. She had an elegance in the way she moved. He looked down at the boots on her feet. Made of richly dyed, gray leather with the silver stitching, they’d barely been worn. His mother’s boots, Leo mused and not for the first time was grateful that while his grandmother had been a practical woman and not one to keep too many possessions, she’d kept enough memories of the mother he didn’t remember for the day he was ready. And what better time than to help Jane? And that’s what he was supposed to be doing: helping her. Not wanting her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He didn’t care for the uncertainty clouding her beautiful brown eyes.

  “For running away like that. For being a coward.” At first he thought she was afraid to meet his gaze, but she inched up her chin and her eyes flashed. “I can’t explain—”

  “You don’t have to explain.”

  “Of course I do,” she snapped. “For crying out loud, you’re putting your life, your work, on hold to babysit me and I can’t even bring myself to step inside a police station. Could I be any more pathetic?” Jane unbolted Teyla’s stall door and guided the haltered horse into the center of the aisle, snapping cross ties to the noseband before grabbing a brush.

  “You dealt with a lot today,” Leo told her. “Clearly taking you into town was a mistake and pushed you too far.”

  “I’m not some delicate flower who’s going to break in the wind.” Jane smoothed the brush over Teyla’s flank. “At least I sure don’t want to be. But every time I get the chance to move past it—”

  Her block hit whenever she came anywhere near the police. Something he needed to find a way around. “Whatever happened to you was traumatic, Jane. We all deal with events like that in our own way. There’s no one solution. Trust me, I know.”

  Her hand stilled. She took a step to the side and looked at him. “You really do, don’t you. You aren’t just saying that?”

  Leo took a deep breath. “My father.” He’d never talked about it. Not really. There hadn’t been a reason to, but there was now. Not to help himself, but to help Jane. He cleared his throat as the grief surged. “He never was able to deal with whatever happened to him in the war. Other than being diagnosed with severe PTSD, there wasn’t much that could be done so my grandparents brought him home. Here. My grandfather always said there wasn’t anything a Colorado sky couldn’t fix. It took some time, but we thought he was doing better. He was working with the horses, seemed to be adjusting after his latest stay at the VA but we missed the signs. Maybe we were too hopeful, I don’t know.”

  He looked her square in the eye because looking anywhere else would mean falling back into the memory of a day he’d spent a lifetime trying to forget. “He shot himself. Out next to my mother’s grave.” Out where his grandparents had later buried their only son. “I was seventeen. He got up that morning, had breakfast with us, said he had a full day planned and then...” Leo waited for the sympathy to erupt in her eyes, the patronizing pity he remembered so clearly from the days surrounding his father’s death: the funeral, the reception. The church services for months after. Instead, what he found on Jane’s face was sincere empathy shining in those glorious eyes of her. “We heard the shot a few minutes later. He was just...gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Leo.”

  “Me, too.” Leo managed a wan smile. He didn’t tell her the rest—that in some ways, his father’s death had been a relief. A release. For all of them. Whatever bitterness and anger Leo might have felt over losing his father had been tempered by the memories that had been good. Memories his grandparents had been determined to focus on. “It’s not something I like to talk about. For obvious reasons, but if you’re ever wondering why I’m so determined to help you get beyond this—”

  “Whatever this is.”

  “Whatever this is.” He stepped closer, took the brush from her hand and set it aside. Every nerve ending in his body burst to life. That’s what she did to him: brought him to life. He should walk away. He should run, but didn’t want to. What he wanted, what he needed, was to be with her. If only for the breath of a moment. For a moment, this moment, he wanted to give in. “There is more to this than me wanting to help you, Jane. A lot more.”

  “I didn’t mean to complicate things between us last night. You know, by kissing you.”

  Complicate things? Massive understatement. But it wasn’t the kiss that complicated things. It was the memory of the other night, after her nightmare, the image of her in bed wearing only a bra and panties, clutching thin blankets against her rising chest as she stared up at him with eyes filled with...longing. Longing he shared. Longing he was finding more difficult to deny. He stroked a finger down the side of her face, felt a bolt of desire hit him straight in the gut before it moved lower and settled, heavy and throbbing as she leaned her cheek into his touch.

  “Things were complicated before then.”

  “Since when is complicated a bad thing?”

  “Jane—” He lifted his other hand, brushed his fingers along the length of her arm before coming to rest against the side of her neck. She closed her eyes. The softness of her skin, the absolute trust on her face stirred him to the core. He gazed down at her, memorizing every feature. The shadows of the attack had faded, but hadn’t fully disappeared. The jagged scar along her hairline was constant evidence of that. “Jane,” he whispered as reason tried to retain its hold.

  “I thought I was wrong.” Her voice swept through him like a warm breeze on a winter’s day. “I thought
maybe it’s just me who feels this way.” She straightened and looked him straight in the eyes. Eyes that were as clear and as coherent as they could possibly be. “I think perhaps we should find out for sure. Make sure last night wasn’t a fluke. That way if I’m wrong—”

  He kissed her. The first brush of his lips against hers set everything inside him aflame. The faint pressure, featherlight and questioning, as if asking permission, shot through him even as he heard a soft moan escape her throat. “It’s not just you,” he murmured before kissing her harder. Longer. He wanted this. Wanted her. And as her hand slid up his side, fingertips dancing along his hip, his ribs, around to the back of his shoulder, he fought for control.

  “Leo.” His name on her lips was as close to a plea as he’d ever heard. A plea he couldn’t bring himself to deny.

  He drew her closer, wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her against him as his mouth covered hers again. He dived in, devoured every inch of her that he could as she sank into him. The softness of her drove him instantly to the brink of sanity. In all his life he’d never wanted for a thing. Until this moment. Now, all he wanted was Jane.

  Her hands fisted in his shirt, tugged him further past reason, deeper into that abyss of desire he wanted to dive into. His hands moved over her back, to the waistband of her jeans, pulled the hem of her shirt free so he could touch the bare skin beneath. Soft. Silky. Feminine. His fingers pressed into her flesh, and Jane moved into him. He stepped back until he felt the wall at his back and, bracing himself—bracing both of them—inched his hands up to beneath the fabric of her bra.

  She gasped into his mouth as her hands released only long enough for her to curve her arms up and around his neck. There wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t burning. Every part of her that pressed into him fired then fried the synapses in his brain as his hands moved down and around, cupped her waist and pulled her hard against him.

  She tore her mouth free, which gave him full access to the side of her neck. He trailed his lips to the pulse point throbbing beneath her skin, and felt a power punch of pride that he was the reason for its erratic beat.

  “Leo.” Never had a moan and a prayer merged so beautifully. “Please.” She ducked her head and caught his mouth again with hers, her breasts crushing against his chest to where he could feel her hardened nipples pressing against him. It would be so easy, so very easy...

  “Jane,” he murmured when she came up for breath. He looked down at her, cupped his hand around her cheek and knew those passion-glazed eyes that struggled to focus were all for him.

  Jane...

  Reason descended in an instant, crashing through his desire. Leo squeezed his eyes closed and tilted his head back until it knocked against the wall. His body was so tight he thought his bones might snap. He was hard, everywhere, for her, but this wasn’t right.

  “Leo?” The sound of his name on her lips nearly drove him over the brink. He shook his head. He couldn’t look at her. Not now. Not again. Because he knew if he did, this wouldn’t stop with a kiss.

  Her name wasn’t Jane.

  “We can’t do this.” He reached up to pry her hands from around his neck. “I can’t do this.”

  “Could have fooled me,” Jane said with a bitter laugh that scraped along the edges of his heart.

  “Jane.” He did look at her now and saw the disappointment descend, erasing the desire that only moments ago he’d been stoking. And that, beyond everything else, made this even more difficult. “I’m not going to deny I want you,” he murmured gruffly. “That I want to be with you. I care about you.” He stroked her cheek as defeat rose in her face. “But we can’t. Not like this. Not before we know who you are. For all we know you—” he had to take an extra breath to push the thought free “—you could have a family. You could be married.” The very idea was like a knife in his heart.

  “I don’t think that’s true,” she countered without hesitation.

  “You’re making my point. You don’t know. Not for certain. And neither do I.” He shouldn’t, couldn’t care this much. Not this fast. And not about a woman who, because of some crazy, violent attack, had memories only of a few weeks. “Until I’m certain you know your own mind, whatever is happening between us isn’t going to go any further. I can’t let it.”

  The passion that had been shining in her eyes seconds ago vanished beneath a flash of anger as she stepped out of his hold. “You think I need a memory to know what I want?”

  “I think that until we know who you really are, you’re not in a position to make this choice. Not when you can’t comprehend the potential consequences.” For either of them. He lifted his hand, wanting nothing more than to stroke that sudden tension from her face, to feel the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips.

  She stood there, hands on her hips, fingers tangled in the cloth of the shirt he’d tugged free of her jeans, and stared at him. And all he could do was hope the wall would support him. “Well, then. There’s only one solution. We need to find out who I am.”

  “I agree.” He took a steeling breath. “Which is why I need to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  Leo knew what he needed to do. What he didn’t want to do. Once he started down this path, there was no going back. Once he asked her the question, it was only a matter of time before she walked away. But he’d made her a promise: to get her home. “Does the name Skye Colton mean anything to you?”

  * * *

  Skye Colton. Skye Colton. Skye...

  Jane repeated the name over and over again in her head as if it was some magical mantra destined to unlock the mysteries of her memory.

  For a man seemingly preoccupied with her identity, Leo certainly didn’t seem to be in any rush to dive deeper into the question he’d posed. Every time she attempted to start the discussion over dinner, he shifted his attention to Trapper and their conversation about which outbuilding on the property they thought would be best for Gwen once she and Lacey got home from their honeymoon.

  Jane’s anger simmered, low and steady as she ate pretty much in silence, doing her best to curtail her sighs of frustration and refrain from rolling her eyes. He was stalling. She knew it. And given the looks he’d shot her across the table, he knew she knew. Who was this Skye Colton? And why did she have this nagging desire to prove him wrong?

  “I don’t know, Trap.” Leo shook his head and finished his beer. “I think they need space. Not just around the house, but inside it.”

  “Well, if it’s space you’re looking for...” Trapper mumbled and dumped another spoonful of sugar into his coffee.

  Jane finally pushed her plate away, then snatched one last fry. “Sounds to me as if you need a female perspective.”

  The men dropped into silence.

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m still here.” She wiped her mouth and stood, picked up her plate, then slapped Trapper’s hand when he tried to sneak Ollie another handful of fries. “Stop that. He’s had enough treats today.”

  Trapper scowled. Ollie whined.

  Leo grinned. “You heard the lady.”

  “Since it seems we need this settled before we latch on to other topics.” She glared at Leo before she carried the dishes over to the sink. Ignoring Ollie trailing behind her, she retrieved the icebox cake from the fridge. “How many outbuildings do you have on the property?”

  “Half a dozen or so. Mostly they’re used for storage during the winter,” Leo explained. “There’s also the original foreman’s house out on the outer edge of the property, but I haven’t had a chance to check that out since I’ve been back.”

  “Buck’s old place?” Trapper asked.

  Leo shook his head. “No, he wanted to be closer to the main house and stable. I’m talking about the old stone cottage on the upper ridge.”

  “Ah.” Trapper’s eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared beneath his scraggly gr
ay hair. “That was originally where your granddaddy was going to build that fishing cabin he always talked about, but then Essie got involved. It ain’t no cabin.”

  “Is cabin code for something?” Jane cut three pieces of cake and rejoined them.

  “Could be code for a lot of things.” Leo sank his fork into the creamy cake. “You know?” He took a bite and nodded. “I think this is another of my grandmother’s recipes.”

  Stop stalling, Jane mouthed.

  Leo looked at her for an extra beat, then ducked his head.

  “Cake like this is why Essie Slattery was queen of the church social,” Trapper cackled as he attacked his own dessert.

  Finally. A lull. “So are you going to talk about who you think I am or are you saving that for another meal?” She popped her fork in her mouth and leaned over to took him square in the eye.

  Leo swallowed so hard she heard it.

  “You find something out, young’un?” Trapper frowned. “I’m disappointed in you. Thought you’d be chomping at the bit to share that tidbit of information.”

  “Yes,” Jane said even as those knots in her stomach tightened. When were they ever going to go away? They’d loosened for a bit, just a while ago when she and Leo had been kissing in the barn. No doubt because being in his arms, losing herself in the feel of him, in the taste of him, was the only time her brain actually turned off. And every other part of her turned on. She might not know who she was or what her life was about, but she knew she wanted him. “Leo seems to believe I’m Skye Colton.”

  Trapper swore. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am,” Leo said. “I didn’t have a lot of time on Miss D’s phone, but when I did a search for local missing persons, Skye Colton’s name popped up.” He turned expectant eyes on her. “She’s been missing since early July.”

  Jane wanted to shrug off the coincidence along with the sudden chill, but couldn’t. She wanted answers, didn’t she? She wanted to know who she was. So why was she suddenly so afraid of knowing the truth? “If you’re waiting for me to suddenly have an identity epiphany, you’re out of luck. I haven’t had so much as a blip since you mentioned her name in the stable. So which one of you want to tell me who these Coltons are?”