More Than a Man - Chapter 1
by CFaulkner
copyright© 2001

Note: This is not a complete story. For the entire story, please join our website here.

Warm, friendly blue eyes collided brilliantly with cold, steely gray ones, and Jessica Bates felt her heart drop uncomfortably into the pit of her stomach as her usual sunny smile froze in place. Instantly, she dropped her gaze to the more neutral territory of the table in front of her as he sauntered slowly closer, paying her no more attention than the wallpaper, which was her goal. She could barely catch her breath as it was, when the painful pulsing increased with every heavy, thudding footstep he took, forcing her to close her eyes and struggle to control the familiar flood of unwieldy emotion. It took everything in her not to begin hyperventilating as he walked past and the feelings crashed over her in a blinding, overwhelming wave.

Only this tsunami was startlingly different. Yes, the usual incapacitating fear of the unknown was there, as clear and uncomplicated as always. This man would change her life, irreversibly. She knew it without a shred of doubt. But this premonition caught her off guard by the sheer force of its aching sexuality. As the man, a complete stranger to her, walked by, her nipples peaked painfully, her pupils dilated, and she felt a hot dampness wet her panties as the area between her legs swelled and throbbed, blatantly readying itself for his possession. Jessica came perilously close to a sexual peak and he hadn’t so much as acknowledged her existence.

The rampant attraction was difficult, but could be dealt with by applying a stringent control to her wayward libido. But there was no hope for the fact that her bottom was tingling as if stung by a thousand bees. Although she had a good idea what that meant, Jessica refused to explore the thought any further.

Sometimes the flashes of clairvoyance caught her entirely unaware, and this was one of those times. They were wholly undependable in their regularity, but always completely on the mark in content, always the harbingers of emotional upheaval headed her way – good or bad, but never indifferent. Her insight never concerned itself with the practicalities of life – she was at the mercy of an unscrupulous used car salesman just like everyone else in the world. Unless, she supposed with a wry smile, the salesman threatened bodily harm to her or hers, or unless she would end up in love with him.

Perish the thought, she smiled to herself weakly, leaning her head back in a futile effort to stave off the raging headache that always followed her premonitions. Jess breathed as deeply as her clenched chest would allow, trying desperately to relax though the startling force of her rawly sensual response frightened her witless. She knew she had a strongly sexual side, but had guarded it very, very carefully, never truly allowing it free reign in her life. Deep down, though, she knew. This man wasn’t going to allow her to retain that control, and that idea frightened her more than anything else she’d ever foreseen.

"More coffee?" The friendly waitress interrupted her attempts at composure, hefting a full pot of the brew in one hand.

Jessie opened one eye and nodded, despite the fact that the caffeine would only compound her racing pulse. She needed the fix, badly.

"You all right?"

"Fine," Jessica squeaked out as the mountain of a man who was the cause of her predicament strolled by again on his way out, a bag of take-out in his huge hand. The waitress nearly filled her mug to overflowing as she turned to stare avidly after him. As soon as the door closed, Jessica recovered to almost normal, reaching for her coffee before the puddle of drool from the younger woman’s tongue reached it.

"Who is that?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"J.D.," the reverent voice made his name a prayer.

"J.D. What?"

"Hamilton." That caught her attention and she turned to stare at Jessica as if she had three heads. "You don’t know him?"

Jess’s curiosity was piqued when she realized that she’d almost been struck dead by someone of importance in this little cow town. She shook her head.

The waitress, whose nametag read Kendra, practically squealed with delight. "Ooooh, isn’t he just the sexiest man in the world!"

Jessica’s eyebrow rose, but she politely made no comment, not wanting to deflate the younger girl’s dreams. Sexy just didn’t cover the stranger – it was much too weak a word, as far as she was concerned. Dominant, powerful, unyielding – now those were words her fertile writer’s mind had conjured on first impression. Granted, it was one helluva first impression.

"He’s got a ranch just outside of town. The biggest spread in the area. They say he’s worth millions, but he sure doesn’t live like it. His brother’s name is Kevin and he lives there with him – their parents are dead – and – " She looked carefully to her right and her left in the empty diner, then leaned a little forward to say in a whisper " – they say he’s a stallion with women. Absolutely insatiable and biiiig – " Kendra’s hands measured an unlikely length between them.

"Kendra!" came a screech from the kitchen. "Stop chatting with the customers and get back to work!"

The young girl didn’t look very chastised, but did wander back towards the kitchen, snapping gum all the way.

Well, Jessica thought, taking a sip of her coffee, it was nice to at least know the name of the man who was going to change her life in some strange, upsetting way. That was more than she got sometimes. When, where, how or why, she never knew.

But, she did know, somehow, that it was him. He was the man who would take her virginity.

James David Hamilton put the brown paper bag containing his lunch down on the eat-in kitchen table before he got drool on it. He hadn’t indulged in the luxury of a real lunch in so long he’d forgotten that not all food came in a can or a box. His movements were swift and economical as he grabbed a paper plate from the cupboard and the last clean fork from the silverware drawer, sitting down to enjoy a veritable feast of an enormous hot turkey sandwich drenched in gravy with crisp, hot steak fries on the side.

The ketchup never quite made it into the fridge anymore, residing instead in the middle of the cluttered kitchen table, but that made it just that much more convenient, as far as he was concerned. As he dug into his first full-fledged meal in over a month, the kitchen door opened and his little brother entered with a sigh to stop cold in his tracks.

"Is that a Hazel hot turkey?" he accused, sprinting forward to snatch a fry.

"Mumph," J.D. replied, his mouth crammed so impolitely full his mother would have had a coronary on the spot if she’d seen the way he was devouring his food. But that didn’t keep him from smacking his brother’s hand smartly when it came back for seconds. "Go get your own," he snarled, only a little more articulately, hoarding the food around him like a stray dog.

Kevin looked affronted as he slumped into a chair next to his brother. "That’s the thanks I get for working my butt off?" he complained.

J.D. stopped in mid-bite, his gaze latching onto the younger man like a physical grip. "D’we get it?"

Kevin’s grin was all the answer he needed – for now – and J.D. grudgingly pushed half of the sandwich over to him. "I guess you’ve earned it, after all."

"Damn straight," Kevin agreed heartily. Not too proud to accept J.D.’s charity, he eagerly took an oversized bite of his own.

When they were both sated – well, almost – they wandered into the living room and James made him spill his guts about his successful business trip where he had been able to purchase the purebred bull they’d coveted. Only when he was sure he had gotten every last detail did J.D. let up on his relentless questioning. Too much time in the military had made him an excellent interrogator. Among other things, he thought darkly.

Kevin took a deep breath and looked around him, seeing the piles of papers, stale ends of hurried, half-eaten meals, the occasional pizza box, and various and sundry pieces of clothing strewn around the room. It was a theme that had carried through the house as soon as their mother had died – she had been the staunch, singular barrier between the two men and their natural slovenliness. Now, looking at it after having spent several weeks in a clean, bright hotel room, his nose wrinkled. Had the house always smelled like this?

"We need a maid," he declared.

J.D. snorted loudly and flicked on the satellite TV, which was one of the few luxuries they had agreed a year and a half ago to retain, deferring everything else to the care and upkeep of the ranch, which was just beginning to function close to the black for the first time in decades. Their father had been a wonderful, loving man, and he had adored the ranch and passed that love on to his two sons proudly. But a businessman, he was not. "Did we win the lottery and no one told me?"

Kevin frowned. "I’m not talking about someone in a black uniform with a white apron," although both men were thinking that they would never turn a young woman in that outfit down for more than a maid’s job, but they kept it to themselves. "We should get someone to come in once a week or so, just to give the house a once over. It’s gotten really bad around here, J.D."

An uncommunicative grunt was the only response, and Kevin wisely let it drop.

That evening, though, when J.D. was stepping over the piles of clean and unclean laundry that littered the floor of the master bedroom, his brother’s suggestion popped insistently into his mind, making him frown fiercely. What the hell would they do with a maid? His perpetually horny mind immediately supplied him with several prurient suggestions, which he dismissed out of habit and got under the covers, only to notice a less-than-fresh scent wafting from the sheets to his nose. How long had it been since he’d changed the sheets? J.D. decided he really didn’t want to think back that far. But he knew the condition of the house would have given his mother a conniption fit – there was at least a half an inch of dust on everything, dishes and utensils were piled in the sink until they practically walked into the dishwasher themselves . . .

Hmmmmmm. Not a maid, he decided immediately, but a housekeeper might be nice, like Kev had suggested. Someone to come in and do the woman’s work that they had long since ignored in favor of long hours and quick meals. Someone who cooked like his mom used to would be a nice bonus.

Then the frown reappeared and his bleak eyes opened in the complete darkness as his body stiffened uncomfortably. Someone old. Fifties or sixties, at least. Someone round and motherly, with gray hair and wrinkles.

That would be the only way she’d be safe from him, he worried.

The next morning, Kevin’s jaw dropped to the floor when his brother suggested he look for a housekeeper/cook to come to the house at least once a week, depending on price. But he was more than up to the task. The problem came with the fact that the jobless rate in their area was nearly nil, and they weren’t willing to pay much, regardless. Their ad went largely unanswered, and the few women who had applied either expected more than they were willing to pay or – upon seeing the extent of the mess they would end up cleaning - weren’t willing to take on the job for any price. And J.D.’s silent, taciturn demeanor hadn’t helped while they were interviewing the prospective candidates, either. He tended to make people feel uncomfortable even when he wasn’t trying, which was why his existence had become more and more hermitlike as he grew older. Women in particular seemed to possess an innate fear of him, except those that were trying to get into his pants and discover if the rumor was true about the extent of his endowments. It was something that pained J.D., and he generally avoided contact with the female of the species because he hated to see the frightened doe look that inevitably entered their eyes when they saw him. Worse than that, he hated to see them licking their lips and staring at his crotch speculatively. Hell, even that strange woman in the diner yesterday had looked at him like he might jump her and spread her legs right there on the table in front of the lunchtime crowd. And though he had felt Kendra’s puppy dog eyes on him the whole time he was in Hazel’s, he knew she was one of the ones who was dying to know first hand how the stallion performed. He never intended to satisfy her curiosity.

Emma Cudahy, the second to the last candidate, had left as soon as she saw the condition of the kitchen, without even bothering to talk to them. Kevin ran a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, but J.D. remained motionless in his chair. "I have one more interview tomorrow at nine, and, if she’s breathing and willing to take it, I’m going to give her the job."

His jaw clenched. "We’ve gone without a housekeeper this long, we’ll live if we don’t get one. I won’t be able to be here – I have that meeting in town tomorrow. Don’t offer it if she’s less than fifty," J.D. warned.

Kevin grimaced but kept quiet. J.D. never explained himself, but Kevin knew there was something in his past that made him very wary of becoming involved with a woman. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever seeing his brother with a girl on his arm. J.D. had joined the Army young and become a part of the Special Forces, putting in ten years and coming back a complete stranger to his family, in more ways than were immediately apparent. He had always had a slow burning, black temper, but now Kevin could literally see him struggling to keep it under control occasionally when one of the hands challenged him or responded disrespectfully. And there was more, much more than that.

J.D. was a big man, broad shouldered and heavily muscled. He had always been strong, but now he was amazingly, unnaturally strong. Just after he’d come back, Kevin had been pinned under a tractor and James had saved him, single-handedly lifting the heavy machine off his brother so that he could pull him out from under it. Kevin had seen him break a fence post in two in a fit of temper that had frankly scared the wits out of him, although he had never seen James turn that massive strength on anyone or anything. Not that there was anything anyone could do about it if he chose to act out that way.

That brute physical power, combined with elite military training in every form of mortal combat the military could dream up, had made J.D. into a well-honed fighting machine, and, although it had been over ten years since he’d left, he still kept himself combat ready, as if he expected some unknown enemy to charge over the hill at the house at any given moment. He slept only a few hours a night; Kevin often found him up reading or watching television well past midnight. What little sleep he did get was interrupted by disturbing nightmares which often made him scream the house down before he was able to wrestle control back from whatever demons haunted him. At first, the family had tried to help him, but J.D. had turned one of those steely hard looks on them, and they had decided it was better to let him deal with it in his own way, however painful it was to know that he was struggling with something so terrible within his own mind.

Jess slammed the door of her ancient Datsun, shading her eyes with her hand as she struggled to get a good look at the place while trudging towards the front door. It was a good sized ranch-style house, all on one level. Jessica loved houses and could remember the layout of nearly every home she’d ever entered. Eventually, she promised herself, she’d own one of her own. But not quite yet.

And she was on a real, live ranch. She’d read tons of romance novels that were set on ranches, but this was the first time she’d set foot on one. Jess wanted to see and hear as much as she could, and, even if she didn’t get the job, she hoped to at least wrangle a tour from the gentleman that interviewed her.

A tall, sandy haired man answered the doorbell with a big smile, holding the door open for her politely. "You must be Jessica."

She nodded, moving past him and into an absolute disaster of a kitchen.

Although Kevin knew J.D. would want him to reject her out of hand because she was probably no more than thirty, if that, he was getting a little desperate. He wanted a good meal at the end of the day, and dammit, he wanted to live in a house that didn’t resemble a junkyard. Kevin watched her face closely for signs of disgust, but saw none. She turned completely around, taking in the atrocious mess without wrinkling her nose or looking disgusted, which was no mean feat in itself, then followed him into the living room. He excavated an end of the couch and seated her there, then took the chair diagonally across from her.

"I’m Kevin Hamilton. It’s nice to meet you," he held out his hand, and she shook it firmly. "Thanks for coming all the way out here."

At the mention of his last name, Jessica paused for a moment, blinking owlishly, trying to recall something important about that name but not succeeding. Then she sank back against the couch, completely relaxed. "Oh, I’m glad to. I haven’t been in town long, and I was dying to see a working ranch."

"Great – we certainly are that." The interview went fabulously – which came down to the fact that she hadn’t run screaming from the idea of cleaning this place up and taking on the enormous job of picking up after two self-confessed slobs. Now came the sticky wicket. "Well, I guess I should tell you what we’re paying – thirty dollars a day." He had braced himself for a rejection that never came.

Instead, he was surprised when she got up and crossed the room, then, biting her lip, turned back to him intently. "I have a counter offer and an explanation."

His eyebrow rose. "Go on."

She started to pace a little, as much as was possible around the junk on the floor. "I’m a writer, and I came to Texas to learn as much as I could about a working cattle ranch. That’s where I want to set my story."

"Oh." He hadn’t the slightest idea where this was leading.

"Well, I’d be willing to forfeit any salary if you’d be willing to give me room and board."

Kevin’s face was blank. "Room and board?"

Jessica could barely contain her excitement. "Yeah. Let me live here. I’ll cook and clean, and once I get this place back into shape neither of those things will take me all day. I’ll have time to write in between and at night."

"Oh." Warning bells and alarm sirens were going off in his head, but the idea had such appeal he found himself agreeing with her. There would be someone here all the time to do the mundane stuff – kind of like his Mom, only younger and more attractive. There would be no more fights about who was going to have to do the mountains of dishes, or the laundry. It would be done. Clean sheets, warm food, and feminine companionship, all in one pretty little package. Kevin found the idea entirely irresistible, and before he knew it, he was agreeing to her proposal.

When she stopped on her way out the door to go and collect her things from Addy’s rooming house and turned to say in a warning tone, "I have to confess something before I come back, though."

His heart thunked to the pit of his stomach and he had to swallow the drool that had collected in his mouth at the thought of eating a real meal tonight. Was she a serial murderer? A devil worshiper? A thief? Kevin rapidly dismissed all of those thoughts as something she was not likely to confess to him. "What?" He tried not to let the word convey his eagerness.

"I do have a dog that comes with me. She’s at a friend’s now, but I’d like to go and pick her up and have her stay with me here, if that’s ok."

Hell, she could bring an elephant as far as he was concerned, and he told her as much. Kevin waved goodbye to her as she left to collect her stuff. He couldn’t believe she’d agreed to take the job! Now if he could just get rid of J.D. permanently before she returned . . .

Click here for Chapter 2