Cocky in a Cowboy Hat (Crossroads Book 3)

by Em Petrova

  “Horse.”

  Her long lashes raised and lowered for a full thirty seconds while she blinked at him.

  “That’s it? Horse?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, what’s that one’s name?” She pointed toward the mare standing near the fence.

  “Horse.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How creative.”

  What was it about getting sassed by a woman he hardly knew that made him want to burst out laughing?

  “I’ve named a few of my horses,” he defended.

  “Yeah? Which ones?”

  “Stella over there.” He pointed to a horse in the rear corner of the pasture.

  “Okay, that’s one out of how many?”

  He opened his mouth to say he supposed she’d name all her horses on her own ranch, but snapped it shut before the words slipped free. He had no desire to rub salt in her wounds, especially when she seemed so good-natured about this turn of events. Not to mention the fact she worked harder than most men.

  She led the horse she just groomed into the pasture once more. When she returned for the brush, he couldn’t help but note the full spread of her hips. Ever since she’d ended up on top of him early this morning in the barn, he wanted to grab her again.

  He closed his eyes on the images snapping through his brain. That had been a mistake. Dreaming of the woman and pulling her down with him had gotten all tangled up in his mind, and well, it wouldn’t happen again.

  “If you don’t need anything else done right now, I’m going to get cleaned up and head to town for some groceries. I thought we could keep that part of our deal separate. I’ll buy my food, you buy yours.”

  Raising his head from the task of checking the hoof of the horse he worked on, he grunted. “Sounds fine. I plan to make a trip before evening chores.”

  She contemplated him for a moment. “Okay. See ya later.”

  Long after she walked away, he still zeroed in on her, picturing her stripping off her barn clothes and showering. And how she’d tasted when he latched onto her earlobe. His cock began to swell again, and he nudged his fly to arrange it into a better fit.

  While awkward moments still arose between them, he thought they were getting along pretty darn well for only being acquainted a day. She could be bitter and angry about him winning the Windswept, but she’d jumped into dealing with sick cattle and adopted every chore as her own in a short time.

  What was her story, anyway? He wondered if anyone in town knew her.

  Did he want to know gossip about Liberty? Nah, he had better things to do with his hours than dwell over a beautiful newcomer with big golden brown eyes and one hell of a tasty earlobe.

  When he finished his task, he headed inside. Ranching didn’t stop with the outdoor work—he still had a stack of bills to pay and lists of supplies to make for those updates to the new ranch.

  The silent house greeted him, but he saw evidence of Liberty’s presence in the kitchen, where she appeared to have washed only the dishes she used. The sink was still piled with dirty ones he hadn’t yet tended to, and the sour smell made him wrinkle his nose.

  Maybe the bills could wait. A few minutes of housework wouldn’t kill him.

  He spent twenty minutes handwashing the dishes and had to beat the laundry room door open when some muddy jeans got stuck beneath it. With both washer and dryer running, he took care of the bathroom. He might not have a woman in his life, but he knew nobody would want to see his dirty towels draped around the space.

  After he gave it a good mucking out, he changed clothes and went into the kitchen to fix something to eat. Rustling up some grub took a bit of ingenuity, but in the end, he ended up with a plate full of pickles and a peanut butter sandwich. He definitely needed more than a few supplies. He wondered what Liberty would return with.

  On the way down the road, he passed her heading back to the ranch. Seeing her in that old pickup, her window rolled down and hair blowing in the Georgia breeze left him a little addled again, and he hardly recalled his drive into town.

  When he hit the bridge spanning the Satilla River, he jerked to a stop and reversed in the middle of the bridge. Going the opposite direction, his cousin, Kaoz, did the same. They pulled their truck windows even with each other and shared a grin.

  “Hey, cuz. How’s it goin’?” Kaoz drawled.

  Aidan offered a nod. “Can’t complain.”

  “I’d say you can’t, considering you bought the Windswept. Damn. I heard you got it for a little bit o’ nothin’.”

  “I did.”

  “Planning to summer the herd over there?”

  “Yup, that’s the plan.” He suddenly didn’t feel too talkative about his new purchase. Knowing he’d ripped it out from under Liberty, and remembering her tears, only left him feeling bad.

  “Give us a shout if you need a hand.”

  “What my new ranch hand and I can’t handle, we’ll ask for help with.”

  Kaoz’s eyes widened. “Hold the phone—ranch hand? Since when? You hate workin’ with people—it’s why Uncle Cort never offered you work on the Bellamy.”

  “It’s a new development. Hired her yesterday.”

  Silence beat the air between them like the fluttering wings of a gigantic bird. “Did you just say her?”

  He tipped his head in affirmation.

  A slow grin spread over his cousin’s face. “You hired a woman ranch hand. You—who doesn’t like women and doesn’t like help on your ranch.”

  “I like women fine.” This one perhaps too much. “Besides, I’m not marryin’ the woman—she’s helping me with chores and with merging the ranches.”

  “Well, who the hell is this woman who managed to change your mind about pretty much everything it’s ever been set on?” Kaoz glanced in the mirror to check if any other vehicles needed to cross the bridge. There wasn’t a car coming either way.

  “Her name’s Liberty Baker.” He waited. “You know her?”

  “Never heard the name. Pretty memorable name too.”

  “Yeah.” He felt more than a little disappointed that his cousin didn’t have any history on the woman.

  A horn toot from behind had him throwing his truck into gear. He lifted a hand in farewell to Kaoz. “Catcha later, cousin.”

  “Bring her to the Bellamy next week for a bonfire,” Kaoz called out.

  He waved and drove on, considering the implications of that invitation. To his family who expected him to settle down the way they recently had, taking Liberty to a bonfire at the Bellamy might look like more than what it was. Besides, did a rancher haul his hands to various family gatherings? Liberty probably had better things to do than hang out with his kin anyway.

  Great—he was thinking about her again. This didn’t bode well for him shaking her from his mind, did it?

  Not when he secretly hoped he’d get a peek of her in that loose-fitting T-shirt outside the bathroom door.

  Swiping a hand over his face, he issued a groan.

  Chapter Four

  Liberty made a noise of disgust as she entered the kitchen. Last night’s pot still sat on the stove with a few spaghetti noodles licking over the side. Next to the sink sat a knife spread with the peanut butter that Aidan ate a lot of. The man probably went through a huge vat of the sticky stuff each month.

  “Was that grunt for my benefit?” The deep intonation swung her toward the counter where the man sat stuffing yet another peanut butter sandwich into his face.

  “Uh, yeah, it was. This is your house, but I’d appreciate having a pot I don’t have to wash before I need to use it.” She twisted to face him, hand on her hip.

  His gaze dropped over her, almost caressing her breasts on the way down. After a week together, she should be used to that appraising way he had of looking at her, but fat chance.

  He returned his attention to his sandwich as if the jam oozing from the seams was the most interesting thing ever.

  “I’ve lived alone a long time. Guess I got into s
ome bad habits.”

  “Bad?” She stalked to the stove and picked up the pot half filled with spaghetti. “It’s a wonder you don’t have rats!” She strode to the garbage can and dumped the old, solidified contents.

  “I’ll get around to the washing up after chores.”

  She folded her arms and stared at him. “I’d like to use that pot now.”

  Blue eyes met hers. When their gazes locked, she felt suddenly hot, tight…prickly. As if she’d just touched an electric fence.

  I did. Those electric blue eyes are the current.

  After a week of living and working with Aidan Bellamy, she’d come to know a lot about him. Besides the fact he ate peanut butter sandwiches and was a slob around the house, she knew he liked looking at her.

  Countless moments while cleaning stalls or helping him set fence posts along what would become the new pasture on the Windswept, she caught him staring. Always with that backlight in his eyes that seemed to project from an inner power source.

  And she learned how much she liked him looking at her.

  Years of marriage had made her invisible. She was no longer twenty and a great catch. Men didn’t crane their necks to look at her, and that had left a bigger crater in her already pitted self-esteem. So having a hot, virile and decent man eye up her body left her more than breathless—she liked Aidan even more for taking notice.

  His stare latched onto her chest again.

  Both turned on and irritated that he wasn’t listening to her, she grabbed the sink sprayer and flipped on the faucet. When she squeezed the trigger, shooting water straight at Aidan’s chest and soaking his navy T-shirt, he launched off the stool like it burned his buns.

  “What the—! Woman!” He sputtered as he moved from the spray, but she held her aim and followed him as he circled the counter.

  The minute he faced her, she realized her mistake. Big Hot Rancher didn’t appreciate being hosed down in his own kitchen. What had come over her?

  She released the sprayer, and it snaked into its spot on the sink.

  He advanced a step toward her.

  The wet T-shirt contest—cowboy-style—wasn’t what she wanted, but the view sure was nice.

  She chanced a look at his face, only to see water dripping off his angled jaw. She took a step back and pitched up against the sink.

  When he closed the gap by another step, her breaths came faster. What would he do?

  Tension rolled off him in burning waves. Her front scorched and the man stood three paces away.

  “Well?” His jaw firmed. “Why did you spray me?” He raised a hand to the wet cotton molded to his chest like a male dancer teasing his audience. She was teased, all right.

  And hot. Bothered. And starting to get wet herself.

  She met his glare. “I do a man’s work on this ranch. If I let anything slide, you’d call it a gender thing.”

  “So you think I expect you to do the dishes because you’re a woman.”

  She nodded. “That’s right.”

  His gaze traveled over her once more before hitting her eyes again. “Step aside.”

  Heart thumping, she inched aside. When he crowded into the area, she made a beeline out of the kitchen. “I’ll be tossin’ hay while you’re washing dishes,” she called over her shoulder, getting an answering growl in return.

  Outside, she had to stop and giggle to herself. The look on Aidan’s face when the water hit his chest…

  She sobered.

  His very densely muscled chest. A chest that left her warm and tingly in places she shouldn’t consider in correlation with her boss.

  Hurrying to the dry shed, she grabbed a small hay bale and hauled it to the pasture. As soon as the horses saw her, they trotted over. She paused to reach into her pocket and pull out a bag of baby carrots she’d picked up at Meyers’ Supermarket.

  The animals crowded in, each waiting for their carrot. She pushed Stella’s nose away as she reached to pluck a second into her teeth before the other horses got their first. “You greedy thing, wait your turn.”

  After all the horses received two carrots and a second hay bale, she left the pasture and secured the gate behind her. The sun on her shoulders felt nice. She stopped walking and tipped her head, allowing the rays to touch her skin.

  For several seconds, she soaked up the sun. When was the last time she felt such… She drew in a deep breath of hay and grass-scented air.

  Peace.

  The word formed in her mind with garlands of flowers draped around it.

  She opened her eyes, shocked at what she was feeling. The last time she remembered acknowledging such a moment, she was a young adult, recently let loose on the world and with all the hopes and promises of a future ahead of her.

  In a short week, she got it back.

  She continued on toward the barn with thoughts of oiling saddles out in the sunshine-dappled yard for the rest of her day lingering in her mind.

  Now that she had peace, she wasn’t about to let it go. She’d grab on with both hands and fight tooth and nail to keep it.

  * * * * *

  Aidan stopped with one foot in the yard, the other on the porch step, watching Liberty from across the yard. She stood with her head tipped back, eyes closed and such a beatific expression on her face…

  His heart squeezed with a soft clutch of awareness, and acknowledgement too, if he was honest.

  The attraction wasn’t going away—hell, now instead of a light flicker of flames between him and Liberty, flames shot higher into the air. Give him another week and it’d be a wildfire.

  Watching her enjoy the moment with the sun shining on her pretty features and toying with the colors of her hair, sending them from blonde to red depending on the way she moved, had him wondering where the hell this all would end.

  In a short spell, they’d grown less stiff with each other. Doing manual labor or working with the horses brought about a sort of camaraderie between them.

  Then Liberty surprised the hell out of him, like a bit ago. He was innocently enjoying her frustration with him over the spaghetti pot, when she hit him with the water.

  As soon as that icy water hit his chest and trickled down, so did a dark need to sweep her up and show her how much he enjoyed her little trick. For a solid minute, he told himself that kissing that sass right off her sweet lips would not be a good idea. When he stepped toward her, he didn’t have any recollection of doing so.

  The fact she got the last word in, and the spaghetti pot and a few other dishes were now drying on the rack, wasn’t lost on him either. If his cousins found out he let a woman steamroll him, he’d never live it down.

  Liberty broke from her pose and continued on to the barn. Aidan stood rooted in place, wanting to follow her. Knowing he shouldn’t. He didn’t have any reason to work side-by-side with her every minute of every day…he just liked to.

  In the end, he gave into his urges and trailed after her. The sound of some faint country tunes projecting from her phone reached him, and so did her singing. He listened for a minute and winced at the godawful sound coming from the woman.

  He stepped into the barn and spotted her hefting a saddle into her arms. She stopped singing at once.

  “You heard me just now, didn’t you?” Her face told him she hoped he said no.

  He dipped his head in a nod.

  She groaned. “Don’t even say it. I’ve heard it enough in my life.”

  “Heard what?”

  “I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

  He pinned his lips shut. Somehow the fact that the woman couldn’t sing only endeared her to him more. “I wasn’t gonna say that.”

  “Well, my ex did plenty.” She carried the saddle outside and then returned for the polish and cloth.

  “If you wanna sing, you should sing,” Aidan took up the conversation where they momentarily broke off.

  “That’s not what Redding said.”

  Anger scraped across his senses. Before now, Liberty had closed
herself off about her past, saying nothing about her roots and background. The fact she was spilling this to him right now made him want to go find her fucker ex-husband and rip his head off, even if it did seem a bit extreme.

  She brushed by him, and Aidan threw out an arm to stop her. She came to a dead halt, looking up into his eyes with surprise.

  “I’d say your ex was ten gallons o’ shit in a five gallon bucket. You should sing if you wanna sing, Liberty.” Why did his tone sound like a mix of banked fury and balls-hot lust?

  He dragged in a deep breath, filling his head with the scents of the barn—hay and horse—and more…woman. The same scent he detected in the bathroom after her shower. And the memory of that first morning when the remnant of his dream turned to reality after he dragged her down on top of him.

  Christ, he wanted to do that again. His stare locked onto her lips.

  A puff of air left her. The top of her head reached the middle of his chest. The perfect place to tuck her up against him and protect her from idiots like her ex who insulted her and probably left a trail of hurt.

  He dropped his arm before he could snap it around her and yank her into him.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my ex,” she said with a glint in her eyes.

  He tossed his head on a deep laugh. She joined in, and seeing that big smile wreathing her features only sent another ripple of desire through him. She skirted past him and sauntered outdoors, still laughing.

  He grabbed his own saddle to polish and followed her. She’d settled the saddle over a sawhorse she’d set up and with cloth in hand, she began to work the oil into the worn leather. He set up next to her where he could steal peeks while they worked together in the sun.

  The music still played on her phone, and sometimes he caught her mouthing the words, though she didn’t make a peep again.

  His musings turned to another track. For several weeks, he planned a road trip to see about buying a new horse to add to his gene pool. He thought about asking Kaoz to join him—his cousin’s knowledge would be welcome—but now he wondered if Liberty might like to go.

  It meant hours spent in the truck beside the woman he could barely shake from his mind.