Gentle On My Mind by Fox Susan

Author:Fox, Susan [Fox, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-07-03T22:00:00+00:00

After they’d both showered, Jake took his time shaving so he could watch Brooke get ready.

Clad in a blue robe, she toweled her hair, combed it, then scrunched it between her fingers. No hair dryer, no curling iron. No fuss. One kind of lotion around her eyes, another on the rest of her face, and yet another on her body. She added a little make-up around her eyes, the mascara brown, not the harsh black most women wore. And that was it. Those rosy lips needed no enhancement, nor did her glowing cheeks.

She grinned at him. “I know Arnold’s a neat-freak, but I don’t think you could shave any closer.”

Realizing he’d shaved the same patch at least ten times now, he put down the razor and went to pick out clothes. Figuring he’d set up meetings with people like Sergeant Miller and the banker Cray, he decided on Arnold’s navy suit with a white shirt and a navy tie that had a thin burgundy stripe.

He was pulling on his pants when Brooke came into the bedroom, slipped off her robe, and put on a bra and panties. The fabric was peachy colored, barely darker than her skin, and so filmy he could see her nipples and pubic hair. A tiny band of lace edged the top of each garment. The panties were cut high on the side, making her long legs look even longer.

She tossed him a grin. “My, what big eyes you have, Mr. Pitt.”

“I was on my way to grandmother’s house and look what I stumbled upon. How’m I going to wait until tonight?”

“Hmm, let me see. Willpower? Better yet, Arnold power. Just be Arnold.”

He zipped his fly over a growing erection. “Poor Arnold. He never gets to have any fun.”

Brooke donned a mint green blouse and a khaki skirt. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

Man, was he slipping. He was taking longer to get ready than a woman. Of course, he was a little distracted.

They took his car into town, a scenic ten-mile drive of ranch land, patches of forest, and rolling hills.

When they reached the outskirts of town, he gestured toward the “Caribou Crossing” road sign, like a pedestrian crossing one but with the silhouette of a caribou instead. “There aren’t really caribou around here, right?”

“Not for a long time. It’s a tourism thing. That symbol has become the unofficial town logo.”

He nodded, then asked, “Where d’you want to eat?”

“The Wild Rose Inn.”

“Dave Cousins’s place,” he said.

She nodded. “It’s a popular spot for breakfast, not only with tourists but with a number of the locals.”

He’d made a quick but thorough scan of the town of Caribou Crossing yesterday afternoon, so he drove straight to the picturesque hotel.

“Parking’s off the back alley,” Brooke said.

“It’s a nice building,” he commented. “Heritage?”

“It dates back to the eighteen sixties. It was a gold rush hotel and saloon, but of course it’s been renovated a lot over the years.”

In the parking lot, he was surprised to see a couple of hitching rails with three horses tied up.

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