It was just sex. Really fantastic, scream-like-a-banshee sex, but just sex, and as long as she kept that firmly in mind, she would be fine.

Knit 13

Jenna sauntered into the barn, her eyes automatically adjusting to the building’s dim interior. She tipped her head, listening for sounds of Gage and where he might be. A scraping noise from the rear of the barn drew her in that direction, and she realized he was doing a quick cleanup of the stalls before the alpacas were brought in for the night.

Tipping her head around the corner, she saw him working. His broad back. His strong, bare forearms and wide upper arms covered by snug black cotton. His long, denim-clad legs leading down to a pair of black leather boots.

She thought about making her presence known, knew she should offer to help… but it was such an attractive sight, she wanted to just sit back and watch. He was better than television.

Wandering over to a stack of hay bales in the center of the open barn floor, she sat down and waited for him to finish. A couple of her aunt’s cats-all rescued, and all spayed or neutered because Charlotte didn’t believe in adding to the animal overpopulation problem-came over to beg for attention, and Jenna happily stroked their bellies and behind their ears, sending them into choruses of loud, ecstatic purrs.

Several minutes later, Gage appeared in the doorway of the stall he’d been cleaning, leaning his shovel against the wall and his shoulder against the doorjamb.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who enjoys spending time in your lap,” he drawled, a devilish grin tipping up the corner of his mouth.

Her cheeks flared with color, but she continued to meet his gaze. “What can I say? I’m a popular gal.”

His smile slipped a degree, and in a low voice, he muttered, “So I’ve heard.”

His response surprised her, and her eyes widened a fraction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged his free shoulder, glancing past her rather than at her. “You’ve done a lot of dating since we broke up, that’s all.”

Ah, so that’s what his sudden sullenness was about. “I am single now,” she told him. “And who I date is my business, not yours.”

“True,” he reluctantly agreed, “I just didn’t expect you to make the rounds quite so soon after the papers were signed.”

“ ‘Make the rounds?’ ” she repeated, a slight edge seeping into her voice.

“Yeah. You went out with another cop, a firefighter, a doctor, a Marine… What were you trying to do, give a one-woman salute to America ’s heroes?”

Anger simmered just below the surface… and then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. She should take his head off for that last remark, but darned if she didn’t find him adorable instead.

“You’re jealous,” she said with a touch of humor.

His eyes narrowed. His lips thinned. “I don’t think so.”

“I do. Why else would you care who I dated, let alone keep track of them all?” A smile itched to spread across her face and amusement bubbled in her chest.

In contrast, Gage’s scowl deepened. “I was concerned about you, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Setting aside the tabby who had been resting on her thigh, she stood up and wiped the seat of her lime-green Capri pants. She stepped forward until they nearly touched and tipped her head back to gaze directly into his brown eyes, gone even darker with displeasure.

Placing her palms flat on the hard wall of his chest, she said, “Well, I think it’s sweet, whatever you want to call it. And for the record, I might have gone out with a lot of men these past few months, but I didn’t sleep with any of them.”

A tiny muscle at the corner of one eye twitched. “You didn’t?”

She shook her head. “Not a one. The last man I slept with-not counting this weekend-was my husband.”

A flash of heat flickered in his eyes and across his face. Bringing a hand to her chin, he cupped her jaw, stroking slowly back and forth with the pad of his thumb. A second later, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

His lips were soft, but firm. Light but possessive. She leaned into him, accepting what he offered and giving back everything she had in return.

“I haven’t been with any other women, either,” he murmured when they came up for air. “Just so you know.”

His words made her gut hitch in a wave of unexpected happiness and relief, and she wrapped her arms around him even tighter, going in for another heartfelt kiss.

An hour later, after scaring off the cats and making a bit of a mess in the pile of hay bales, Jenna straightened her brightly colored peasant blouse and rewrapped the matching green boa around her neck while Gage tucked his T-shirt into his pants and buttoned the fly.

“I’m going into town tonight for my knitting group,” she told him when he took her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure.”

“I’m not riding on the back of your bike, so we’ll have to take my little clown car,” she said with a hint of humor in her voice.

He pulled a face, letting her know just how much he loved that idea.

“And I think Zack and Dylan may still be out of town, so you won’t have anybody to hang out with at The Penalty Box. I’ll understand if you’d rather stay here.”

“Nah. I don’t mind drinking alone. Besides, there’s nothing here but cats, alpacas, and stacks of old craft magazines.”

With a chuckle, Jenna said, “I think Daisy has a crush on you,” referring to an adorable brown and white alpaca female who’d taken to following Gage around like a puppy whenever he was in the pasture or trying to herd them into their stalls for the night.

Rather than deny it, he grinned. “She was making eyes at me. If you’re not careful, you might have some serious competition.”

A jolt of something she didn’t want to think too hard about struck her low in the belly. She also didn’t want to think too long on his words, because-however lightly delivered-they implied there was more between them than truly existed.

“So when do you want to leave?” he asked.

She checked her watch, surprised to find it still on her wrist after the half-naked wrestling match they’d participated in earlier. “Soon,” she said. “Maybe twenty minutes.”

“That gives us enough time for another quickie,” he replied.

Her eyes went wide and she turned a stunned expression in his direction. He wanted to do it again? So soon? She was lucky she could even walk after that last round.

He let out a bark of laughter. “Kidding,” he said. “Just kidding. I can wait until we get back from town.”

At that, she gave him the stink eye, and he laughed again.

“God, your face is so telling. I could yank your chain all day just to see what kinds of looks you’d give me.”

Shaking his head-in amusement, she presumed-he cupped her chin with one hand and told her, “You go on in the house and get ready to leave. I’ll get the mangy beasts bedded down for the night.”

And then he kissed her. A quick, hard peck on the lips before he let his arm drop and headed back for the barn.

Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” blasted from Grace Fisher’s car stereo. For the past week-actually four days, eight hours, and forty-seven minutes to be exact, but who was counting?-she’d played the song over and over and over again, until the words seeped into her bones.

She could completely relate to the woman in the song who was taking revenge against her boyfriend by destroying his truck in the parking lot of a local watering hole while the jerk was inside cheating on her with some bleach-blond tramp. Especially since she’d done something poetically similar to Zack’s beloved cherry-red Hummer after discovering another woman in his hotel room.

Grace wasn’t exactly proud of some of the things she’d done that night. Oh, she was totally in the right, totally justified in her anger, her grief, her desire to punish the man who had hurt and betrayed her. No doubt about that.