Page 10

A Drink With Lara Croft

The next couple of days went by quietly.

Stanley carried on in the barn, tending to the horses and taking occasional rides on Betsy.

He spotted Allison a couple of times, but it seemed she was doing her best not to acknowledge him.

After what had happened in the barn with her, he couldn’t quite blame her.

He knew that his being back in Torpe was bringing up conflicting feelings in her.

On the one hand, she was still as attracted to him as he was to her.

He’d seen— and felt —it the other day. On the other hand, the fact remained that he had disappeared for four years.

Whether he’d meant to or not, he’d hurt her, and he couldn’t just expect her to come jumping into his arms, no matter how badly he wanted that.

How long would it be before all of this was behind them? She still didn’t believe he’d been on Frost Mountain. Hell, she hadn’t even let him explain himself before she’d walked out on him. He swallowed, stroking the mane of the horse he’d been tending to. Was this the end of his marriage?

In fact, the marriage might as well have ended for her years ago.

Four years was a long time. He’d spent that time thinking of her, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could get back to her, yet doubting he ever would see her face again except in his locket.

But at least he had known what happened.

She didn’t, and she’d had to deal with the confusion and pain of not knowing whether he was dead or alive or whether he’d left her.

She couldn’t have been waiting for him for so long. At some point, she’d probably given up. And all he’d done by returning to her was reopen the wound his disappearance had caused.

He sighed. “Goddamn Frost Mountain.”

You’ll pay for what you’ve done.

The words swept through his memory just then, and he ground his teeth together.

Great .

He had more than one problem to worry about, and one of them wanted him dead. He shook his head at the memory. He’d known Johan barely a few days before he’d found himself back on Earth, but he knew enough to understand just how ruthless and relentless the man could be.

If Johan wanted him dead, the least he could do was brace himself for a fight that might be his last.

His stomach growled. It was afternoon, and he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink. For now, at least, he could use some water or orange juice.

A thought occurred to him. Given the current circumstances, it seemed completely insane, but Stanley wasn’t in the mood to care right now. Before he could stop himself, he stepped out of the barn and stared straight ahead at the ranch house. A drink from the kitchen couldn’t hurt.

He made a beeline for the house. He spotted Aaron and Julian on the way but paid little notice to the looks of surprise on their faces as he neared the front porch. He climbed the steps two at a time. The front door was unlocked. Was Allison at home? He looked around until he spotted the truck.

She was probably up in the bedroom. Without another moment’s hesitation, he stepped into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. It wasn’t until he reached the doorway that he heard the sounds coming from the kitchen and realized how wrong he was.

I should have known.

Allison stood with her back to him, chopping food on the counter. She had on another of those sundresses that didn’t quite obscure her curves but instead teased him with the promise of easy access. She didn’t bother looking up as he walked in, but judging from her demeanor, she sensed his presence.

“Julian?” she said. “Is that you? I told you I’d get back to you later about the feed.”

When Stanley didn’t respond, she turned slowly, her eyebrows knit in a frown.

When she saw him, her brown eyes widened to the size of dishes.

Her lips parted, but before she could get a word out, he walked past her and made his way to the fridge, scanning its contents.

A moment later, he pulled out a jar of orange juice and poured himself a glass, finishing it in a single gulp.

The sound of the glass being refilled was the only one in the kitchen. Stanley turned and faced his wife, raising his orange juice to his lips. She was still staring open-mouthed at him as if she couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to walk in here.

His gaze dipped, and he caught sight of her cleavage, breasts heaving with each breath.

Her nipples had already sprung to attention, poking through the front of her dress like they had the other day, and the sight of them caused a stirring in his groin.

In seconds, his erection was straining against the front of his trousers.

She must have noticed his own arousal because she suddenly drew a sharp breath. When he lifted his gaze, she was staring at his crotch.

Once again, they were alone, gazing at each other. The air between them seemed to hum with electricity. He felt his body tauten, his heart racing in anticipation. The memory of Allison moaning into his mouth in the barn reappeared in his mind.

In the barn, anyone could’ve walked in on them.

Here, in the house, they had a lot more privacy.

Her chest was heaving almost rapidly now.

Her body was as responsive to his arousal as his was to hers.

If he drew closer, if he came behind her and held her the way he knew she loved to be held, what was stopping them from finishing what they had started in the barn?

He looked into her eyes, slightly narrowed now and lust filled.

The air in the kitchen seemed to get warmer.

For a fraction of a moment, Stanley nearly gave up his resolve and followed his urges.

He stepped forward, prepared to walk over to her, slowly peel her clothes off, and give her what they both knew she craved.

Or not.

He drained the glass of orange juice and put the jug back in the fridge. And then, without a single word, he walked out of the kitchen, feeling as though Allison’s eyes followed him until he closed the front door behind him. He smirked.

Back to the barn.

***

Thirty seconds after the front door closed behind Stanley, Allison decided she needed a drink.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t any alcohol in the fridge, and she wasn’t about to settle for orange juice right now, so she abandoned the cabbages she’d been chopping for dinner, headed out to her truck, and drove down to the Blue Cicada.

It was just like the last time she’d come here, except there were slightly fewer people in the bar this afternoon.

No doubt, most of the customers showed up after sunset.

She spotted a man in one of the booths talking to a woman who looked like she had better places to be.

He had on a familiar red hat covering a shock of hair.

It took her a moment to realize he was the same man who’d come over to talk to her the other night. What was his name again? Jeff?

The man looked up, and their eyes met, but he made no move toward her.

Thank goodness.

She’d come here for a drink. The last thing she needed was another man disrupting her peace of mind today.

Fortunately, the corner booth she’d sat in the other night was still empty. She headed straight for it and sat down, grateful to be away from the ranch, if only for a little while.

She still couldn’t believe what Stanley had done.

Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t exactly done anything wrong.

Nothing was stopping him from going upstairs to take a nap or a shower.

Still, considering he’d spent pretty much all his time in that barn, he was the last person she’d expected to suddenly walk into the kitchen and get a drink.

If she closed her eyes now, she could still see him standing there by the fridge, those deep blue eyes fixed on her. In seconds, she’d found herself embarrassingly turned on by his very presence, even more so when she noticed his own arousal.

Only Stanley had that effect on her. Once upon a time, she’d loved the intensity of their mutual attraction. Now, it troubled her. He was back, and there was no telling how much longer she could keep resisting him.

“You’re back,” said a voice.

It was Penny, the barmaid. She wore a brown top that exposed part of her midriff over khaki shorts. For a second, Allison couldn’t help feeling like she was staring up at the country version of Lara Croft.

“You left in such a hurry the other night, I thought you’d never return,” the barmaid said. “I almost threatened to kick Jeff out that night.”

Allison glanced for a second at the booth where the man was still sitting, going off about something she couldn’t hear.

“What’s your poison this afternoon?” Penny asked her.

She thought for a moment. “Whiskey?”

“You asking me ?” The barmaid looked a little amused. “What brings you back here, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean, no offense, but you don’t exactly seem like the type to just pop up in here on a random afternoon.” She lifted a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Something like that. How’d you know?”

“You’ve got a funny look on your face a former friend got whenever she and her ex-boyfriend were arguing. The guy ended up leaving her for some chick in the next town.” Penny smirked.

Allison let out a breath. “It’s more complicated than that. It’s a long story, really.”

“Well, now you’ve got a listener. I’ll pour you a drink, and we can talk. How’s that?”

Allison frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

The barmaid gave a wave of her hand. “Everyone’s already drinking. I don’t think I’ll be getting any requests in a while. Hang on.”

She headed back to the counter. A couple of minutes later, she returned to the booth, holding a bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses. A bottle of water was tucked under her arm. She set everything down and sat across the table from Allison, pouring her whiskey and pouring herself some water.