Cowboy Hank (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 3)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Conley told me he has a destructive past. He was in and out of jail then he met a woman and had a toxic relationship. She filed a restraining order which worked for a while, but then he started stalking her. Thankfully, she left the state and he stayed behind. This will seal his fate.”

  “You’re such a sweet man, Hank.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being sweet.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I came along to tell you then.”

  Sweeping his arms around her, he dragged her in, only meaning to comfort her after all she’d been through, but parts of him were triggered by the feel of her curves. “You are a brave woman, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve met a braver one.”

  “No,” she sighed against his shirt. “If I were braver, I would have stood up to my father and told him I wasn’t marrying Craven. Instead I took the coward’s way out and ran.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her bruised knuckles, catching her intoxicating scent. He smoothed his thumb over the remaining red and blue marks of where Yost had grabbed her wrist. He took in how soft the skin was there, feeling the thick noticeable veins shift under his finger. He didn’t stop there and continued a path up the inside of her arm, seeing a few more places of the battering before reaching unmarred skin that reminded him of snow. He’d never known a woman that was more complex. As tough and strong as she was inside, she was as smooth and feminine on the outside.

  Running his fingers upward still, he traced the thin strap then twirled a strand of her hair around his knuckle, playing with the strand before he allowed it to bounce back with the mass. He touched her ear lobe where the tiny diamond stud twinkled in the firelight. She had small, delicate, pretty ears and he couldn’t remember if he’d ever noticed this body part on a woman before.

  He felt the top button of his shirt give way under her coaxing, then her touch came on his chest, shyly exploring.

  “This might be a little cheesy, but I love how you smell,” she said with a hint of shy laughter. She pressed her forehead against his chest.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been told that either, but I feel the same about your scent. I swear as I’m lying in bed at night that’s all I can smell. It’s embedded in my veins.”

  She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze straight on. “Do you think I was meant to land here, Hank? That the hands of fate had this plan for me…for us?”

  The look she gave him made him made his heart kick against his ribs. When did he fall in love with her? Was it today when he walked in, seeing her trapped under that bastard Yost’s body? Fearing that she was seriously hurt. Or was it seeing her with his family and how they seemed to fit? Yet, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he thought the door opened on his emotions the day he met her, seeing her look so pathetic in too big clothes and dirty, untamed hair, and how she’d done what she needed to for Freya. Hell, he knew exactly what a person would do for something they cared for and believed in.

  “Is it too brazen for me to ask you to stay?” Her bottom lip was slightly puckered and her eyes were bright.

  Cupping her cheek, he smoothed his thumb over her silken skin. “I’d like to stay, but only if you’re sure.”

  She pushed up off the couch and stood, extending her hand to him. “Surer of anything I’ve ever known.”

  He pushed up and lifted her off her feet, cradling her against him as he carried her through the open doorway of the dark bedroom. Holding her felt like he held the world in his arms, a bundle of soft satin and promise. He laid her carefully in the center of the small bed, hearing the springs give under her slight weight. The flickering light of the fire in the outer room flooded into the room, casting her body with a golden glow.

  Lord help him, he wanted to take things slow. Gentle. Treat her like a queen, but every cell in his body was triggered with need. That was his plan, but when she rose upon her knees and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, he got the feeling she wanted no part of his plan to take things gentle and slow.

  “Hang on. I want to see this.” He reached over and clicked on the lamp. He sucked in air at what he saw in her expression. If she were a fire, she would have burnt down the countryside. If she were the sun, she would have lit the entire world. He’d never seen such power in one person. Hank believed he’d always been reserved when it came to motions, never connecting with a softer side, but what he’d noticed since he’d met her she’d managed to find that side of him and with each day those hard, brassy emotions were being softened. Had he ever looked at another woman and noticed how bright her eyes were? How her hair cascaded over her shoulders? Or how good she smelled? Never. She was special, different than the rest.

  She tugged his shirt off his shoulders, disposing of it somewhere on the floor then she started working his belt, having some trouble so he jumped in and together they had it loosened and undone, as well as the button and zipper of his jeans. Toeing off his boots and dragging off his socks, Helena had already started pulling his jeans down his hips. The anticipation he saw in her expression made his body rock solid and made the effort of dragging the denim down his hips a bit bumpier.

  He pushed them the rest of the way and kicked them off, and before he straightened her hands were on his chest.

  Twenty-One

  Helena ran her fingertips over his flat nipples, making Hank clench. Her hands were on his stomach, to his waist, where she paused. She was staring at him, her eyes wide. “Is there a problem?”

  “It’s…well, very large.”

  He chuckled. “Thank you.”

  She wrapped her fingers around his girth then slowly pumped the length. His breath painfully released as he clenched his teeth until he thought he might crack a tooth. “I’ve only been with one man. Freya’s father.”

  Looking down at her, he touched his thumb to her chin, lifting her face so that he could see her. “I’m honored.” For a moment, he could only stare at her, struggling inside. He bent to kiss her, pressing her back onto the bed, until he settled himself above her, his knee between her legs. Heat radiated from her body.

  If this had been any other woman, he would have dived in and eased the madness. But this was Helena, a woman he could see himself spending his life with and that meant her needs came first.

  She raked her short nails down his back, feeling the scrape all the way into his bones. Lust gripped him then, like a large dose of tsunami and heaven combined.

  “Let’s get rid of these.” He plucked her gown, peeling it from her upper body until she lay under him, naked to his pleasure. He held his breath, a reaction of seeing her amazing, lush breasts, flat stomach, and flared hips. The apex of her thighs was covered in downy hair. “My God, I knew you’d be beautiful, but I had no idea just how so.” Finally, air inflated his lungs.

  She stared up at him, bright shiny eyes latched onto him, seeping their strength into his soul. Where had she been all his life?

  He clutched both her tiny wrists in between his fingers and lifted her arms high above her head and bent to press his lips against hers. Their tongues touched, they explored and played, suckling and sampling. She tasted like fine whiskey and cotton candy, a heady combination. He released his hold to touch her firm breasts, squeezing gently, flicking his thumbs over the thick buds.

  “Seriously. You have the most amazing breasts,” he said, bending to lick one pert nipple and then the other. She arched her back, her mouth opened slightly and a whimper escaped. He kissed his way down the slope of her body, pausing to roll the tip of his tongue around her navel then lower. Engulfed in a heady scent of desire, he spread her legs wide and feasted on her sweet buffet. She writhed and squirmed under him.

  With her juices on his lips, he lifted himself above her and gave his mouth a swipe. “Are you still sore from today?”

  “A little,” her words came out on an exhale.

  “Then you take the wheel, sweetheart.” He laid down on his back. He didn’t want to lay on top her and crush her when she was still
feeling achy.

  No shyness left, she climbed atop him, spreading over him.

  Brushing his finger over the firm nub between silken, slippery folds, he slipped one finger, then two, inside her narrow passage, readying her to take him. He thrusted his fingers inside her slippery body as she took on a bouncing rhythm, riding his hand. Her fingers threaded into her hair, lifting the mass off her shoulders as pleasure spread over her expression. He kneaded her breasts, weighing them, teasing the thick nipples into submission. Exploring her with his palms, her soft silken skin, the changes of soft curves to flat plains. Silken dips and feminine bends. Gentle whimpers fell from her parted lips and goosebumps scattered her flesh. If she were this reactive to his fingers he couldn’t wait to see what response her body gave when she was full of him. His balls ached and he couldn’t wait another second.

  Reaching for his jeans, he grabbed the foil packet and ripped it open to clumsily take out the condom. He expertly rolled the sheath on himself and with a quick shift of hips, his wide hands on her flared hips to guide her, their bodies joined. He took his time, slowly and gently easing into the slick nest of her body.

  He’d lost himself. He couldn’t be sure where his body ended and where her began.

  She stared down at him as she gyrated her hips, gazes connected in a sense of belonging—connection. He felt a tightness in the back of his neck that crawled downward, along the vertebra and nestled in his buttocks. His balls were now throbbing, and he wanted to plunge like a madman into her tight body, but the desire to bring her pleasure gave him the strength to control himself.

  *****

  Helena fluttered her eyes open and then she saw Hank beside her, braced on an elbow. He smiled and she felt the warmth all the way into her toes. “Mornin’,” he said in a husky voice. His eyes were bright and whiskers covered his chin. He looked amazing and suddenly she felt self-conscious. She knew what she looked like when she woke up. Wild hair, ruddy skin, bad breath, but he didn’t seem to mind any of those things.

  “Good morning. How long have you been awake?”

  “Long enough to know you talk in you sleep,” he grinned, the cleft in his chin deepened.

  “I do? What did I say?”

  “That I’m an amazing lover.” He lifted her hand and kissed the backs of her knuckles.

  “Oh really?” She felt the smile curve her lips. “That would be the truth.”

  He touched her neck. “The wound looks better but the bruising might be a bit hard to explain.”

  “I’m fairly good with concealer. I think I can manage to hide them.” She pressed her palm to his cheek, absorbing the warmth. “I slept like a baby. How about you?”

  “First night I’ve slept straight in ages. You did something to me, and I like it.” His eyes sparkled.

  “Glad I could be of aid. Want me to make some coffee?”

  “Not yet.” He lifted a tendril of her hair and wrapped it around his wide knuckle. “Let’s not the allow the world in quite yet.”

  “I’m okay with that. A few more minutes and then I’ll have to check on Freya to see how she is.” She certainly hoped she could hide the evidence of yesterday’s attack. Freya was too young to understand and it would only scare her.

  “I want you to stay, Helena, and Freya too, here in Cooper’s Hawk.” He dropped the strand of hair and soothed the tips of his fingers over her cheek.

  She stared up at him. “Hank—”

  “Please, let me explain. You’re afraid that Craven will show up, demanding that you fulfill your father’s promise to him, but he can’t force you to do anything, especially if you’re already married.”

  Blinking, she absorbed his words. “Married?”

  “Yes. To me.”

  Pushing herself up, she held the sheet against her chest as she leaned against the headboard. “Are you playing a joke?”

  He cocked a brow. “Why would I joke about something like marriage?”

  “Well…I don’t know, but this is coming out of left field.”

  “Not really. You know I’m crazy for you and I think you like me a little too.” He scratched his temple with his thumbnail.

  “Look, we had great sex…amazing sex…but that doesn’t make a marriage.” She pushed back the sheet, bounced out of bed and reached for the first thing she came to which happened to be his shirt. Dragging it on, she buttoned it then left the room.

  She was in the kitchen, scooping coffee granules into the pot by the time he joined her. Damn, he looked sexy with his sleepy expression and beautiful body exposed. Thankfully, he had put on his boxers otherwise she wouldn’t be able to think straight.

  “It’s not nice to walk away from a man when he’s proposing,” he said with a frown.

  “Oh? That was a proposal. It almost sound like a pity offering.” She focused on filling carafe with water.

  “Pity offering? Do you think I’d do that?” He swiped a hand down his whiskers.

  Honestly, she didn’t “No, but people should marry for more than…well, an arrangement. I didn’t want that with Craven and I certainly don’t want that with someone I care for.”

  “So you do care for me. I thought so.” His smile could have won wars.

  “Hank, you’re a good man, but you can’t marry me just to protect me.” Pressing start the coffee maker started brewing.

  He grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “Sweetheart, I haven’t known a lot for a long time. I’ve buried my emotion way down deep. I’ve been existing on auto pilot but when you, and Freya, walked into my life you uncovered places of me I’ve hidden. This isn’t a pity proposal. Hell, I can protect you without putting a ring on your finger. I want you here, with me, every day. I know it might seem mad because we’ve only known each a short time, but at my age I think I know when I’ve met the woman that’s meant for me. Of course, if you don’t think I’m the man for you—”

  She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his then pulled back just an inch. “I’ve grown so much here in Cooper’s Hawk, because of the town and the people, but mostly because of you. I told myself that it wasn’t possible to fall for someone so quickly, that I was just lost in an ocean and needed a ship to save me, but that’s not the reason. You are an amazing man, Hank. The gentlest, kind, handsome man…”

  “I feel like you’re trying to let me down easy.” He chuckled.

  “No, I’m trying to tell you that it would be my honor to marry you, but please make sure that’s what you truly want.”

  He cupped her cheeks, his strength seeping into her skin and bloodstream. “Be my wife, Helena. I promise I’ll take care of you and Freya and always treat you as you deserve.”

  Twenty-Two

  One month later

  “Look at the snow, Mommy! Can we build a snowman?” Freya lifted her gloved hands and caught snowflakes. She’d been in awe since she woke up to the blanket of white.

  “Yes, this evening we’ll build two.” Helena gave her daughter a hug then opened the door to her used car that she’d bought recently. “But right now we have to get you to school. You don’t want to be late for the special day.”

  “Mommy, did you remember the bags of treats?” Freya jumped up and stamped her new boots in a pile of snow.

  “They’re in the trunk. Do you have your book bag?”

  Freya pointed to it on her back. “Yes.”

  They climbed into the car that Helena had already started to let it get warm and melt the ice. She wasn’t used to the frigid temperature in Montana, especially on the mountain. She was grateful for the heat and rubbed her bare hands together in front of the vent.

  “When is Hank moving in?” Freya put on her seatbelt.

  “Remember, he’s not moving in here. We’re moving onto Hawke Farm. It’s empty now that Abby and Rusty moved.” Helena backed the car up slowly, hearing the snow crunch under the tires.

  “I love the horses. And the goats. And the cows. And the kitties in the barn.”

  “Y
ou’ll get to see them every day.” Helena smiled.

  “When is the wedding?” Freya popped off her glove and made a heart in the fog on the window.

  “In two weeks.” She pressed high on the defrost.

  “I can’t wait to wear my pretty flower girl dress. I love pink.”

  “I know you do. You’re going to make the most beautiful flower girl too.” Helena did a check on her mental list. Dress. Check. Flowers. Check. Caterer. Check. Cake. Nope. She was scheduled to meet Hank at the bakery after dropping off Freya. She’d be late and so would Freya because the roads were slick and Helena had never driven in conditions like this. Now she wished she’d taken Hank up on his offer to pick them up.

  “The snow’s pretty. Ain’t it, Mommy?” Freya hummed.

  “Very pretty.” But not fun to drive in.

  Once they made it off the narrow lane, she felt more confident with the wider road, although not enough that she could release her stranglehold on the steering wheel. In the mirror she saw headlights some distance back. Turning the wipers on high, they helped some, but the snow continued to fall.

  She glanced back up in the mirror and the van that had been quite a distance behind was now close. “Go around.” She pressed the brake, slowing the car, hoping they’d pass on the only straight stretch of road within miles.

  They didn’t.

  Instead, they stayed less than a car’s length behind Helena, which made her nervous.

  “Did you hear me, Mommy?”

  “What is it, sweetheart?” She tried to take her mind off the closely following vehicle.

  “Can Janie come over?”

  “Is Janie your new friend?”

  “Yes. She likes horses too,” Freya said.

  “I can speak to her mommy or daddy and we can discuss a play date.” Helena’s gaze was drawn to the mirror again. The van wasn’t letting off.

  A familiar fear crept into her spine.

  She squeezed the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles ached.

  Who would be driving like maniac on the slick roads?