Grant (Riding Hard) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,27

“Why don’t I?”

“Ray told me,” Christina said, flinching a little as she said his name. Not someone she wanted to bring up when she was in Grant’s bed. “Mrs. Ward confirmed it, and Ted from the feed store filled in the rest. The company apparently specializes in buying up loans and then finding any way they can to foreclose on the property. They do this all the time, mostly preying on small, older towns, where the land values are depressed. They want Bailey’s house—her whole neighborhood—the bar, the diner, all of downtown, and most of the land around it. They’ll buy up the small ranches and farms, everything that’s privately owned.”

“Damn, damn, damn.” Grant scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Carter hasn’t said a word about that. Does he know?”

Christina had no idea. “I’m only going by what Mrs. Ward and some others told me. So, when they saw you with Karen, the two of you all friendly …”

“Hell, no wonder everyone looked at me like I’d burned down an orphanage.”

“An orphanage with puppies in it,” Christina said, then she scowled. “Like you’d be happy to sell off the town. I can’t believe they believed that.”

“Well, we are taking her money,” Grant reminded her. “For her damned soap commercial. I need to talk to Carter.”

He made no move to jump up and go, however, which was fine with Christina. Grant was warm, naked, delectable, in a hot, gorgeous cowboy way. She could stay here with him all the rest of the afternoon and on into the night.

People at the diner had reminded Christina that Grant was a bad boy, always in trouble when he’d been younger. They thought that being nice to Karen meant he was still bad.

But they should know better. Grant was a Texas gentleman, raised to be courteous to a lady—any lady—even if she was a shark.

… And a bitch, and wore too much makeup, and had tried to jump Grant, and …

Christina relaxed. Grant’s body was around her, keeping her safe from the world. No need to disturb that.

Their conversation drifted to a close, but they didn’t move to get up, leave, or talk about what had just happened between them.

The minute they did that, Christina knew, this bubble of serenity would break. Then she’d have to examine the pieces, see if she could fit it together again.

For now, Christina enjoyed touching Grant’s shoulder, leaning to lick the hollow of his throat. Grant watched her in silence, touching her in response, their mouths meeting from time to time for quiet, warm kisses.

As the sun slipped down, Grant rolled her under him and slid gently inside her.

They made love, this time slowly, in warm contentment instead of crazed heat.

Contentment, that is, until their need built up, their bodies seeking more, then more. Finally Grant’s thrusts came hard and fast, and Christina cried out, giving up on restraint.

Grant groaned her name, kissing her face, her throat. Christina wound higher, her arms coming around him to cling to his strong body. Grant braced himself on fists, his face set as he loved her in swift strokes.

A wave of pure joy broke over Christina, taking her down into darkness. She heard her voice, yet felt nothing but the hot wildness where they joined, Grant’s fingers between them doing their magic.

Christina floated in a world that contained only the two of them, where nothing could ever hurt her.

“I need you, Christina,” Grant was saying. “You are crazy, hot, and fucking beautiful.”

He groaned out the last word, his eyes closing tightly. Christina held on, until they were both making a hell of a lot of noise, the bed—the whole damn room— rocking with their loving.

The sun sank and twilight began, and still they loved, until they fell, exhausted and shaking, into each other, and held on like they’d never let go.

Someone pounded on the door. Grant jerked awake, growling.

Christina lay next to him, tangled in his sheets—still there, amazingly—but someone wanted to come inside in the worst way.

Grant rolled off the bed, grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, not bothering to locate his underwear in the dark.

He snapped on the kitchen light, blinking at the glare, and wrenched open the front door.

Carter stood on the step, his hazel eyes light green in the dusk. He took in Grant’s disheveled state, and his gaze grew colder.

Right, like Carter had never had himself a wild afternoon. “What?” Grant snapped.

Carter tried to look past him. “Damn it, Grant, don’t tell me you have her