Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

Cade had never been so concerned for or drawn to anyone. The protectiveness and pull he felt to Jacey were almost impossible to resist. He kept trying to talk himself into keeping some emotional distance so he didn't benefit from her vulnerable state and it wouldn't be hard on both of them when she had to leave, but then she'd have something slam into her like a fifteen-hundred pound Brahman bull and need him.

He felt like a superhero and the most tender man on the planet during those times. He'd been the hero but not very tender. Except for with her.

He rubbed at his jaw as he sat on the couch watching her sift through his movie collection. She'd changed into a soft blue T-shirt and white cotton shorts after they returned home and did the nightly feeding. He tried not to focus on her long, lean legs, studying her profile instead.

The curve of her jaw and neck … enthralling. Just one kiss on each spot ?

No. He had to keep boundaries in place. It had been a long day. They'd finished dinner and cleaned it up and now it was darkening outside and she'd declared adorably that it was ‘movie time,' but of course she got to choose, with a sassy look daring him to tell her no. He couldn't imagine ever telling her no to any request.

It couldn't compute in his mind that he'd only met Jacey this morning. She was the missing piece of his life. She could be his entire life. If miracles came true.

But no. He'd planned on being alone. He could handle being alone. He hadn't envisioned a deviation from that plan until she had fallen down his mountain.

There wasn't a world where the fabulous and famed beauty Jacqueline Oliver settled down in a backwoods Montana valley with a cowboy who could claim a high school diploma, a Silver Star Medal and a blown-out knee for his military service, an ability to train horses and take care of cattle, and a yearning for her. Her last boyfriend had been a millionaire and a senator, he believed. He wanted to Google her and didn't want to at the same time. It wasn't as if he'd followed her life, but the Olivers had a lot of press about them. It was intriguing she didn't want to look at pictures of her family. Was she afraid to remember?

Jacey turned to him with a mischievous glint in those blue eyes. She didn't seem afraid of anything at this moment. His stomach pitched happily, and he could believe this sweetheart was nothing like the prim and proper daughter of billionaires who wouldn't notice him if he fell down at her feet and begged. She was his Jacey, not some out-of-reach Jacqueline.

" Sweet Home Alabama !" She held the DVD up and grinned. "I am ecstatic you own this movie. I believe it is a favorite. "

"You've seen it?" It was intriguing what triggered an elusive memory. Most of them had been bad, but this was happy.

"I … must have." She shrugged it off. "You resemble Josh Lucas." She gave him an alluring look.

How he kept his seat when he wanted to rush across his living room, sweep her against his chest, and kiss those straight lips that had been teasing him all day was a mystery to him.

Jacey was injured, in danger, and neither of them needed the heartache of falling for each other far too quick and being ripped apart even faster.

Life stunk sometimes, and he was certain he'd already fallen for her.

As she stood with the movie in hand, he didn't think life stunk at all. He stood—to put the movie in the DVD player, not so he could kiss her.

"I don't look like Josh Lucas," he protested. "I have much darker hair and skin."

"I didn't intone you were clones." She rolled her eyes, jutting out one hip and putting her hand on it. "It's in the eyes, the smile, the slight dimples in the rugged cheeks."

"Ah." He chuckled and shook his head. "I definitely don't have dimples."

"Believe me, your dimples appear when you grin, and they are irresistible. Do you not study yourself in the mirror?"

"Never." He couldn't hide his smile. When she cried, all he wanted to do was comfort her and protect her from every hurt. When she smiled or laughed, he couldn't resist joining in and praying he could bring more smiles, laughter, and someday love to her life.

"Well … you are in possession of dimples, my handsome cowboy." She lifted both hands innocently .

"Well … you have Julia Roberts's lips, sweetheart."

He didn't know how she'd take that. But she smiled with those glorious lips and said, "I savor the sound of you calling me sweetheart."

He loved saying it to her. He hadn't called Sheryl a pet name, just Sher as a nickname. With Jacey, that endearment had slipped out and now he found it on his lips often.

She stepped in closer, and he moved at the same time. Jacey was probably five-seven, definitely not short for a woman, but he still had a good nine inches on her. She was feminine and irresistible. Despite the many discrepancies he knew they had, he was certain he'd met his perfect match.

"Sweetheart," he murmured as his hand lifted to cup her cheek.

Desire flared in her blue eyes and he knew he was sunk. He had to cool things off. Somehow. He was her protector, not her lover.

Disappointment surged in him as he snatched the movie from her hand instead of cradling that smooth cheek and jawline longer. He angled around her, not letting himself look and see if she was disappointed he hadn't jumped at another opportunity. Remembering how it had felt to cup her gorgeous face in his hands outside the fence this afternoon, he also remembered that she hadn't been grossed out that his hands were dirty from the shovel and burying the calf and flinging the coyote into the woods. He'd probably smelled awful. She also hadn't flipped out and blamed him for shooting a predator.

Incredible. Jacey was incredible. He never expected to find a woman so suited to him. How was it possible she was famous and endangered? Jacqueline Oliver could never settle down in a remote Montana valley with a cowboy. Could his Jacey make that choice? He doubted it.

As he started the movie, he wondered how long she'd stay with him. If she'd captured his heart this tight in one day, what could she do with a week? Yet Jacey wasn't trying to capture or manipulate him. She wasn't anything like Sheryl. Jacey didn't remember her past and still was genuine, fun, and loving.

He turned back to face her. She darted over to the wall and switched off the overhead lights. The sun had set, but it was still light enough outside and from the glow of the television to see her outline. She all but danced to the couch and plopped down right in the middle.

Did he really have any choice but to sit close to her? Sure, there was a loveseat and two recliners, but it would be rude to not sit on the couch next to her.

Justifying to the tenth degree , he could hear his dad say.

Well, tonight he was going to justify. He wouldn't kiss her, but he could sit by her.

He eased down next to her. Her shoulder brushed his arm, and she smiled up at him. The previews were playing. He didn't need to watch previews. He didn't need to even watch the movie. He could keep studying Jacey's beautiful face in the blue light of the television. Blue was her color. It lit up her blue eyes and complimented her tanned skin.

She held his gaze, her eyes welcoming and innocent. Even though she had no memories, the intelligence and confidence in her eyes appealed to him. How this lady could've feared she was a murderer like her psychotic mother was beyond him. He could hardly imagine what she'd gone through today and hoped he'd helped not hurt. Him shooting the coyote hadn't been his smartest move, but she hadn't blamed him. Not his sweetheart Jacey.

He should comfort her after such a long day. His touch seemed to help. Lifting his arm, he slid it around her shoulders.

She sighed and cuddled into his side. Tucking her legs underneath her, she leaned more fully into him and rested her hand on his thigh.

Cade's heart beat fast and hard. The familiar "Sweet Home Alabama" song came on.

"I love this show," she said on a sigh.

Cade tried to focus on the movie. He relaxed enough to laugh with her in the funny spots. His sisters had made him watch it often enough that he knew when each one was coming. The rest of the time, he tried not to so much as shift for fear he'd lift her onto his lap and show her that when a man watched a chick flick movie, it was either because a sister or good friend had tricked him into it or because he was planning on kissing the entire movie away.

He could still focus and savor … her. Her laughter, the way she glanced up at him from under those thick eyelashes to share a conspiratorial smile about something that had happened in the movie, the scent of gardenia, the pressure of her against him, his palm and fingers cupping her shoulder and grazing her smooth upper arm, her hand on his leg, the way she'd burrowed into his life and his heart in a single day.

Jacey was nothing short of miraculous. How was he supposed to keep his distance? Should he call Quaid and Clint and admit he wasn't strong enough to be around her without falling in love with her? They might take her away. He couldn't allow that .

The movie ended, and he had been sitting still for so long his arm and legs were tingling from lack of movement.

She blinked up at him again. Her eyes and lips mesmerized him.

She'd told him she needed him. Would he be any kind of man if he didn't give her a tender kiss to help her heal?

That selfish thought jolted him enough to keep his mind from straying to forbidden kisses with a woman leap years out of his league. And what about his promise to never fall in love again? Jacey wasn't duplicitous, but she didn't even know her own past. It was a hundred kinds of wrong for him to kiss her and try to get her to fall for him when she wasn't at a hundred percent, and she was in danger.

Jumping to his feet, he luckily didn't spill her onto the floor. She blinked in surprise but stood as well.

"Let's get you up to bed," he said, his voice too husky. "This has probably been the longest day of your life."

"The only day of my life, so definitely." She winked.

He laughed. She had a great way of teasing. He needed that in his life. He needed her. "Tomorrow will be better," he promised without meaning to.

"Really, cowboy? I do not know how you could possibly top today."

He liked that. "Tomorrow I won't trigger any tears. We'll do safe chores, a long horseback ride, and a swim in the lake. I'll teach you how to backflip off the ledge." Probably not a good idea with a head injury, but not as bad as offering to teach her to shoot. Her goose egg had gone down but was still there.

She tilted her head, that shiny dark hair spilling over her shoulder. He'd gotten a few touches of that hair across his arm or neck today and those stolen moments when he'd brushed it back to put her hat on. Silk. He wanted to run his fingers through it over and over again.

"The tears were in no way your fault. I can't even express my gratitude for what you have done for me today."

"You're welcome." He didn't know what the proper response was. If someone had told him this morning that he'd willingly shelter and fall for an endangered woman, he would've scoffed at them. Now … he'd do anything for Jacey.

"Will you still instruct me to shoot a pistol and a rifle?"

"Um …" Okay, almost anything. That hadn't been a good idea to agree to originally. Him killing the coyote had triggered a sobbing episode. He had no problem holding her while she cried, but he did not want her hurting or crying. Not on his watch. No, not ever. He wanted Jacey happy and safe. Even if she couldn't be with him.

"I know you think I'm too emotionally unstable to be shooting a gun, but it could be a valuable skill. What if my mother or her men found us? You could use my help defending the homestead."

Cade laughed. The second it burst out of him, he knew he shouldn't have.

"You think I'm incapable because I don't possess my memories or because I originate from a wealthy, disturbed family? Maybe you don't want a gun in my hand." She puffed up and gave him a challenging look.

"Calm down, sweetheart. It isn't any of that." He looked her over. She had deflated a little bit at the ‘sweetheart,' a term he needed to strike from his conversations with her yet couldn't seem to stop saying. "When you said homestead, I had this image of us in Western wear and bandanas, defending an old homesteading cabin. "

"Oh." She smiled. "That is a silly image."

"If you want me to teach you, I can, but please know that if anyone comes for you here, I will defend you." This We'll Defend . It was the Army motto, and he'd felt it deeply when he served. It fit now. Jacey was his to defend.

He'd never had such an important assignment.

Her smile grew. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you. I could never be afraid with you around, cowboy."

Cowboy. It was similar to him calling her ‘sweetheart.' He wanted to hear the term of endearment from her over and over again.

He wished he could keep hugging her, but he had to get her into his bedroom and have some closed doors between them. Right now. How could he ask her to lock the door? Maybe push a nightstand in front of it? That would probably scare her. She'd think he meant to keep her mother's men out when truthfully he wanted to keep himself out.

"I'm glad." He released her and stepped back. "Let's get some rest." Striding over to the television, he turned it off. The room plunged into darkness. He felt his way to the wall and hit the light switch for the stairs.

Jacey walked toward him with something like rejection in her eyes. He didn't want her to feel rejected. Ever.

She walked past him with her head held high and preceded him up the stairs. He took the stairs with heavy legs and walked her to the master. He'd done a check of the house when they returned earlier, but he felt an urge to do another one. Plus he needed to grab a few things from his closet.

"Stay right here for a moment," he said.

She nodded .

He hurried into his master, did a sweep and determined that he was overly cautious, but there was no reason not to be. Diligence saved lives. He knew that. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste, some clean clothes, his deodorant, a blanket from the closet, and an extra pillow off his bed.

Striding back out of the room, he nodded to Jacey. "Thank you." He paused, wanting to take care of her, even if he needed some space to keep his feelings for her somewhat in control. "Will you be all right?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I am well."

"I'm glad." He tilted up his chin and turned to go.

"Why are you taking a pillow and blanket? Is the spare bed not made up?"

He froze and told a half-truth. "This is my favorite pillow. Sorry I stole it."

She arched her brows. "You're giving up your bed for me. I think I can forgive you this one indiscretion."

"Mighty generous of you."

"That is the kind of cowgirl I am." She tried to put a little drawl in her voice. It didn't quite fit with the educated East Coast tone.

She laughed, and he joined her.

Yet it reaffirmed what he knew down deep.

She rode a horse like a queen and was humbly willing to help with chores. Because of these and many other qualities, he'd deluded himself into believing she was his perfect fit. The truth was Jacqueline Oliver couldn't fit in the mountains of the West. She couldn't fit with him.

His heart had been shattered by Sheryl playing him and dumping him at one of his lowest moments in life. He had to be stronger around Jacey tomorrow or it would hurt both of their hearts in the long run. There was no clear vision of how to do that, but he'd pray for strength.

"Goodnight," he said.

He forced himself to turn and walk to the empty spare bedroom on the left. The other room on the right was his home office, with a bathroom in between the two.

Pushing the door open, he waited for her to go in and close the bedroom door. He'd turn off the hallway light and they'd get some rest.

The door didn't close.

He was being stretched thin right now.

Turning, he was glad his hands were full so he couldn't reach out to her. She stood across the hallway, looking far too alluring.

"What would you do if I told you I need you close or I will never fall asleep?"

Fire filled his chest, and he had no idea how to respond. He clutched the blanket, pillow, and toiletries tightly. Thankfully it wasn't a feather pillow, or he'd have goose down all over the place.

"Jacey …" How to explain? Earlier today, she'd feistily told him she wouldn't sleep with him. He'd been semi-offended then, but now he knew it had been a defense mechanism. Was she testing him now, or did she truly need him close?

"I want to take good care of you," he said, "and I will do whatever you need me to do, but it is not a good idea for us to sleep in the same room."

"Why not?" She folded her trim arms across her chest.

"I promised myself and heaven above that I would stay pure before marriage."

"Are you intoning if we slept in the same room, you would not stay pure? "

He was in hot water now. "I would pray I'd have the self-control to keep my distance, but I believe it's safer and smarter to stay out of situations that would test that self-control to the limit. If I knew I'd become an alcoholic with one drink, I wouldn't hang out in the local bar."

She pushed out a surprised laugh at that, but then she threatened to undo him when she walked across the hallway and stopped half a foot away. The pillow and blanket were the only defenses he had between them.

He'd sensed a purity about Jacey. What was she doing trying to push his limits? She might think she knew him well and trusted him, but truth be told, she'd known him less than twenty-four hours and she was the vulnerable one—injured, in danger, alone in an unknown man's house, far away from civilization.

"Are you intoning I am a temptation to you, Cade Miller?"

He snorted at that. "Sweetheart. I'm saying I've never been around a woman so enticing in my thirty plus years, and if you don't march back across the hallway, slam that door, and lock it, maybe shove a dresser in front of it, we're both going to regret it."

He clamped his mouth shut. That reveal had been a huge mistake.

Her eyes lit up like he'd given her a puppy for Christmas. "That is the difference between you and me, cowboy," she drawled. "I would have no regrets if you kissed me for an immeasurably long time."

Cade's eyes went wide, and his heart slammed against his rib cage over and over again. He clung to his pillow and blanket and only stayed straight because he feared if he leaned against the wall, he'd reveal how weak he was for her .

"I might not have my memories, but I know what I want," she said, her blue eyes bewitching him.

"Jacey," he all but moaned. "Can you please have pity on me?"

"Pity?" She shook her head. "On you? The toughest, bravest man on earth? Who would pity you?"

Loads of people when Sheryl broke him and he made a fool of himself in front of the whole town. He didn't like pity and he was tough, but he was weak for Jacey.

"Your brother is trusting me to take care of you. If I kiss you, when you're under my protection and you don't even know your past or what you want in the future…" He shook his head. "That would be taking advantage of you, the situation, your trust, and your brother and the Colevilles' trust. Please don't ask me to do that."

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but it wasn't right. Not like this.

She studied him, and he hated the spot he was in. He longed to kiss her, but there were so many reasons to stay strong.

"Forgive me," she said softly.

Then she spun and hurried into the room, closing the door behind her.

Cade deflated against the wall. He studied that door and clung to his bedding and toiletries for a very long time.

One day with the most beautiful and intriguing woman in the world. A woman who was damaged and in danger. Jacey brought out every protective and longing instinct he'd buried after Sheryl.

He didn't know how he'd get through another day alone with her. And at the same time, he could hardly wait to see what she said and did and looked like tomorrow. How many times she made him laugh and smile. How she made him long for her to never leave.

Maybe her memories would come back tomorrow and she'd realize how far beneath her he was.

That made his chest tighten with panic. He wanted to burst into his own bedroom, lift her out of his bed, and kiss her. Would a life-altering kiss between them somehow convince her not to walk away?

He shook his head in disgust at himself. He'd just told her how wrong it would be of him to kiss her under these circumstances.

She wasn't his Jacey, his sweetheart. She was Jacqueline Oliver. She would never fit in his remote valley as some cowgirl. No matter how she captured him with her blue eyes, how she made him feel needed, how he needed her, and how incredible she looked on Annie's back.

He wouldn't get any sleep tonight.