Jackie Merritt - The Coyote's Cry

He stopped cold. The kitchen light had been on and he’d thought nothing of it, but seeing Jenna at the table was a shock he had trouble concealing. His mind grew fuzzy for a moment; he should turn around and get out of there while he could, he realized vaguely. But then he recovered some dignity. This was his house, after all, and Jenna was the intruder in this room, not him. He managed to say, albeit a bit thickly, “I can’t sleep, either.” He began preparing a cup of cocoa for himself.

Jenna watched his every movement with a heated sensation in the pit of her stomach. He had been so diligent about avoiding being alone with her that this unplanned midnight meeting felt like a tryst. Probably not to him, she told herself, but then he wasn’t burdened with bittersweet longings the way she was.

She drank in the sight of him. He had pulled on his jeans, but that was the only clothing on his marvelously masculine body. His chest was smooth and hairless, his shoulders wide and muscular. He hadn’t buttoned the waistband of his jeans, merely zipped the fly, and he was barefoot. His thick black hair, normally so neatly brushed, was tousled and looked so sexy to Jenna that she could barely swallow small sips of her cocoa.

With his cup in the microwave, Bram clenched his jaw and looked at Jenna. He could hardly pretend she wasn’t there, after all. “I know why I’m having trouble sleeping, but she’s my grandmother. Does every patient in your care cause you insomnia?”

My God, is he actually going to talk to me? Jenna was so surprised she nearly choked on a swallow of cocoa. She managed to answer him, though. “I was sleeping. A nightmare woke me.”

The microwave went off and Bram took his cup to the table and sat across from her. Bram Colton joining her for midnight cocoa surprised Jenna so much that she wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

“Tell me about your nightmare,” Bram said after taking a cautious swallow of his hot drink. That was an innocent enough topic, he thought, even though he knew that he should have taken his cocoa back to his bedroom rather than risk even a few minutes in Jenna’s company.

Jenna tried not to stare at this half-naked man whom she’d so often fantasized about having in her bed. But he was seated only a few feet away—all that darkly tanned skin, and that handsome face.

She dropped her eyes to her cup. “It’s not worth talking about.”

“But it scared you awake.”

“Well, yes. That’s what nightmares usually do. Don’t you have nightmares?”

“Everyone does.” Bram raised his cup to his lips and took in the truly glorious sight of Jenna Elliot sitting across from him at his very own table, with her golden hair loose and disarrayed around her beautiful face. Her robe was blue and he could see the neckline of a white gown beneath that. But it was very easy to envision her lush body under the gown. That’s the real reason you stayed in here instead of running back to your room the second you saw her—just to soak up the sight of her. Admit it!

“Were monsters chasing you?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could manage.

“Monsters?” Jenna couldn’t help smiling, and decided that he really must be curious about her nightmare, which was curious in itself. So why not tell him about it? At least they were talking, which just might qualify as a small miracle. “I guess there could have been monsters, but I don’t recall seeing any. I was in a strange place—a rural setting—and I was walking down a dirt road. There were a few trees and I was wearing a red dress. Now, that’s odd,” she interjected thoughtfully. “I hardly ever wear red, and I don’t even own a red dress.” She paused for a swallow of cocoa.

“Anyhow, I could see a hill ahead of me and I began walking up it. It became steeper and steeper until I was clutching at the ground with my hands to keep from falling.” She looked at Bram. “That’s it.”

“What scared you about that?”

“The fear of falling, I guess.”

“Sounds to me like you might be afraid of reaching the pinnacle of something you’ve been trying to attain.”

Jenna felt a wave of heat wash through her. He was the pinnacle, if there was any accuracy in his interpretation.

“When did you become an interpreter of dreams?” she asked pertly.

He grinned, surprising Jenna and melting her bones at the same time. Lord, he was handsome when he wasn’t scowling! “Learned it at my great-granddaddy’s knee,” he said.

“George WhiteBear taught you how to read dreams?”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“No, but Willow’s talked about him. His age is incredible.”

“Ninety-seven is pretty incredible, all right. He says he will live to be a hundred and five. I can’t doubt it.”

“Does he still live alone and take care of himself?”

“He does.” Bram frowned suddenly. “I expected Gran to have a long and healthy life, too. That stroke was a shock.”

“For the whole family, apparently.” Jenna couldn’t believe it. They were actually having a normal conversation.

“I’ve got to drive out to George’s place and tell him about Gran,” Bram said, sounding as though he were talking more to himself than to Jenna.

“He doesn’t know?”

“I didn’t want to alarm him without cause. After what you told me earlier tonight, I think I’d better go out there very soon. I’m sure he’ll want to see Gran.”

Jenna’s heart sank. “And what I said to you tonight is the reason you’re not able to sleep. Do you understand that I only said what was necessary?”

“I don’t understand a damn thing. She was always a live wire. What causes a stroke, anyhow? Why was she struck down like that?”

“Would you like me to explain the medical causes of strokes?”

“No.” Bram turned his head, reminding Jenna of Gloria both from the action and from their physical similarities. “Hearing a bunch of medical terms I probably wouldn’t comprehend isn’t going to make me accept Gran’s affliction. She doesn’t deserve what she’s going through, Jenna.”

“I know she doesn’t,” Jenna said quietly, although a part of her rejoiced that her name had rolled off his tongue as though he said it all the time. She lifted her eyes and met his, and for the first time ever she thought she saw something personal gleaming in their black depths. Her pulse rate quickened, and when he suddenly looked away again her breath stopped as though trapped in her throat.

To alleviate the sensation she got up and brought her cup to the sink. She heard Bram getting up, too, and then felt him behind her.

“Just forming a line to rinse my cup,” he said.

But he was standing a lot closer to her than he had to, and again Jenna couldn’t breathe normally. “I—I’ll only…be a minute,” she stammered. “Give me your cup. I can take care of it and you can go back to, uh, bed.”

He reached around her and put his cup in the sink in front of her, and she felt his long muscular body against her back.

“Jenna,” he whispered, and placed his hands on the counter on each side of her. Her mind could hardly digest what was happening. He had never, ever touched her, not once, and now his entire body was pressed against hers and his arms were virtually enclosing her within a very sensual circle.

She didn’t think, just reacted. Dropping her cup in the sink, she swung around, at the same moment raising her arms to his neck. She leaned into him and his arms tightened around her. She turned her face up and silently begged for his kiss, and he didn’t disappoint her. His lips touched hers gingerly, then, in the next heartbeat, almost roughly. It was her fantasy come true, or at least the beginning of it.

She opened her mouth under his and kissed him back with all the desire she’d kept bottled up for so long. She knew she would do anything he wanted; all he had to do to get everything he could possibly want from a woman was to keep on holding her and kissing her.