by Erin Marsh
“Don’t move,” she whispered to Clay.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice sounded low and languid with just a tinge of amusement.
Climbing off Clay, she lit the candles he’d placed on each nightstand a few days ago. They’d discovered that the soft light didn’t bother her as much as artificial.
“Better?” Clay asked as she returned to the bed. When she settled again, her knees on either side of him, he reached up and stroked her back. Even without the low glow revealing the affection in his face, she would’ve felt it in his touch.
“Much.”
He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. As he brushed a kiss across her knuckles, he watched her, his irises a deep, endless blue-green. When he released her, she ran her fingers across his jawline and then down his body. The whole time she caressed him, she never broke their shared gaze. It was like watching the sea go dark and then light blue as the current changed.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you have the most beautiful blue eyes?”
Beneath her hand, his muscles stiffened. Her compliment clearly unsettled him. “The Stevens eyes, you mean,” he corrected, his voice gruff.
She shook her head and placed her hands on either side of his face so he wouldn’t look away. “No. I mean your eyes. I never knew blue ones could change like yours. They’re like an aquamarine hot spring in Yellowstone now, but sometimes they’re as clear as a mountain lake.”
He brushed his thumb lightly over one of her cheekbones. “I love how you see me, Lace.”
The tone of his voice triggered a swell of emotion that rushed over her. His hand skimmed her back as he lifted himself off the pillows. Leaning in her direction, he pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was softer than she’d expected but no less powerful. Like a golden sunrise over the desert, it slipped through her, warming every inch.
* * *
No one had ever made Clay feel the way Lacey Montgomery did. His whole life, he’d never truly belonged. But with her…he did. Which was all sorts of crazy considering how much they had to fight to be together. But in the candlelight with their past banished to the shadows, their differences vanished too. The connection he felt threatened to overwhelm him, but it made it no less intoxicating. He craved her, craved their closeness.
Breaking their kiss, he whispered in her ear, “You make me feel so good, Lace. I want to make you feel the same.”
She turned her head slightly, pressing her lips against his neck as they curled upward. “You’re very proficient at that.”
“I’m just getting started,” he said. Carefully, he flipped their bodies so she lay beneath him. She let out a surprised squeal that turned into a gasp as his mouth closed over her breast. Her nipple immediately pebbled. Her hands buried in his hair, pressing him closer. He flicked out his tongue, playing with the hardened tip. She rewarded him with a throaty sound that curled through him. Her hips began to lift, and he reached down with his hand, giving her the pressure and the friction she craved. Her cries came in sharp, beautiful, staccato notes. He watched as she tumbled gloriously over the edge, her body straining, her lips parting ever so slightly. When she went limp against the mattress, he kissed his way down her stomach to her damp center.
Her fingers threaded through his locks again, her touch light and tender. He teased her just as gently, relishing each little intake of her breath. He rubbed his thumbs against her inner thighs, her skin soft and smooth beneath his calluses. She shivered once. Then twice.
“I need you.” Her whisper was throaty and full of decadent promise. Desire, stronger than any simple lust, pulsated through him. He swore his heart might fissure from the sheer force. But it didn’t. It just pumped faster, sending his blood racing.
He felt Lacey gently guiding his head upward, and he followed her command, kissing a path along her body. When his lips reached hers, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He didn’t enter her right away. Instead, he pressed his length against her heat as he explored her mouth. She moaned, the sound almost causing him to lose himself. Then she began to rub against him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on maintaining control.
Her hands slid to his butt, and he suppressed his own shudder. “Lace, I’m trying to take it slow.”
“I’m all for slow as long as you’re inside me.”
Her words ripped away what little self-preservation he had remaining. He gathered her tightly as he breathed in her scent. Hell, he’d do anything for this woman, be anything for her. The Stevens men always had their weaknesses. His father’s was money. His brother’s was drugs. And Lacey was his. Luckily for him, she was his strength too. He’d never felt better than when he was with her.
Pressing his lips to hers, he explored her mouth as he slowly entered her. He swallowed each gasp and groan as he slid deeper and deeper. He retreated just as glacially, drawing out the pleasure…and the need. His arms shook from the effort, and even Lacey began to tremble. He went slightly faster the next time and then the next, increasing the tempo tantalizing beat by tantalizing beat. By the end, they were moving at a frantic pace, echoing the wild frenzy of emotions swirling through him. He held on long enough to feel her glorious climax, her muscles clenching around him, her body taut beneath his, her fingertips pressing against his rear. He erupted, somehow still managing to hold her close as he came.
His body near collapse, he rolled off her, thudding against the mattress. The seconds ticked away as they lay side by side, their breathing labored, their bodies slick with sweat. She recovered first, rolling against him. He managed to lift his arm and drape it limply over her.
“That…that was amazing. You were amazing,” Lacey said.
He wanted to return the compliment, but he only had the energy to smile against her neck. She squeezed his hand. “I have a feeling we’re both going to sleep well tonight.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Clay agreed sluggishly. Sure enough, it only took him a few more moments before he drifted off. Unfortunately, the rest of Lacey’s prediction didn’t come true.
* * *
The chime of Clay’s smartphone startled Lacey from a deep sleep. Weighed down by tiredness, she couldn’t fully wake up. She vaguely felt Clay slide from the bed as he answered. His words seemed to blend together until three particular ones.
“…fucking wolf attack!”
She bolted upright, ignoring her light-headedness. “What…what did you say?”
But Clay wasn’t paying attention. He was already pulling on pants with one hand as he held the phone in another. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Lacey flipped on a light and climbed from the bed, searching for the bag of fresh clothes she’d brought. The clock read four thirty in the morning, but she wasn’t going back to sleep.
Clay shoved his phone into his pocket as he reached into the closet for a shirt. “That was Forrester. He was out early checking on his herd near my land. One of my cows was chased into a steep ravine last night.”
“By wolves?”
Clay’s gaze held hers, his eyes stark. So many emotions swirled there, making them darker than normal. They made her think not of warm seas but of stormy ones. She wasn’t sure if she spotted accusation in those depths, but she definitely saw worry and frustration.
“Apparently. I should’ve had some of my men sleep with the herd again.”
“I’m coming with you.”
He rammed his hand into his hair. “I’d mention the brain injury and how tired you are, but I doubt that would stop you.”
“You’d be right.”
He gave a sharp nod. “We’ll take the two-seat four-wheeler. I’ll go wake up my guys. We can meet at the barn.” He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. “This is why I fought you so hard, Lace. This isn’t the first cow I’ve lost this way, and it won’t be the last.”
He said the words matter-of-
factly without blame, but they still smarted. She’d thought he finally understood, understood her. Her head swam uncomfortably as she swallowed in an attempt to rein in her sudden flare of anger. “Wolves have a right to exist, Clay.”
“I’ve never argued that. I just don’t want them on my land.” With that statement, he disappeared from view.
She sank onto the bed as she fought against an unexpected wave of tears. Her concussion had brought her emotions too close to the surface. Resolutely, she pulled on her jeans and then yanked her sweatshirt over her head. The air would be cool this time of the morning. Even with her body flushed with anger, she’d feel the chill.
When she reached the ranch yard, the men had the vehicles ready. She hopped on behind Clay. Neither of them spoke. She could feel tension in his body, a sharp contrast to the way they’d collapsed in each other’s arms only a few hours before. He’d been so open then…so had she. Now they’d retreated into themselves. Even as she clung to Clay while the quad bumped along, she felt separated from him.
By the time they reached the scene, Lacey could feel her stomach start to sour. She hated seeing any animal distressed. Predators were a part of nature, even a part she loved. But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother her to see the results of their hunt. But it was part of the environment, the natural cycle of things.
Clay walked stiffly toward the ravine. Lacey debated about reaching for his hand, but she didn’t know how he’d react. She didn’t want to risk his men seeing any rift between them. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen to their relationship after this, but she didn’t want gossip before they’d had the chance to work this out privately.
She could hear the cow moving about, occasionally making lowing sounds. Fortunately, the animal sounded more panicked and frustrated than hurt. Although there was a path in and out of the deep dried-up arroyo bed, it wasn’t a passage the animal would choose unless chased or herded. While Clay and his men climbed into the steep gully to rescue the cow, Lacey scanned the area for signs of wolves. She was surprised and grateful that the pack hadn’t finished the kill after expending the energy to corner the animal. True, Tim Forrester had spotted the cow, so perhaps his presence had scared off the lobos. But something just didn’t seem right to Lacey.
Using one of the lanterns stashed in the four-by-four, Lacey scanned the narrow entrance into the ravine. This would be so much quicker in the day, but the rain shower earlier in the evening made her job easier since the wet dirt meant better tracks. The ground was churned up due to the cow’s hooves, but something made her pause and crouch down. She almost touched the print with her finger, wanting to test its realness before she called out to Clay. But no, her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
“This wasn’t a wolf attack.”
The movement in the ravine paused. The men had been pushing the cow up the steep grade. Although the animal snorted, no one else made a sound. Tension swirled through the air. When Clay finally spoke, his voice was too carefully controlled. “Are you sure it wasn’t? Or do you just want it not to be?”
Lacey took a calming breath. They were all under pressure, and it wouldn’t do to snap back. “There’s a human shoe print in the mud.”
“Maybe it’s Forrester’s? He spotted the cow in the ravine,” Stewart suggested, his tone languid despite having pushed a full-grown cow up a sharp incline.
“No.” Clay took off his cowboy hat and shoved his hand into his hair. “He said he heard the cow lowing from his land. He didn’t come onto mine.”
“Did he specifically say he saw the lobos?” Lacey asked.
“No.”
“Well, someone was here, and he certainly wasn’t a wolf.”
* * *
“It’ll be a little bit before the anesthesia wears off,” Lou Warrenton said as he clasped Clay’s shoulder, “but luckily only a few wounds were deep enough to require stitching. Nothing appears to be broken either.”
Clay swallowed and nodded. “Thanks for coming.” They’d managed to get the injured cow out of the ravine and onto a trailer to bring her back to the barn. She had a couple of deep cuts from rushing headlong into the ravine that needed medical attention. He’d tried the local vet first, but the man was out of town visiting relatives in another state. Thankfully, Lou didn’t mind taking an emergency or two.
“Not a problem.” Lou finished returning his supplies to his medical bag before he faced Clay, his kind eyes serious in his lined face. “I know you’ve faced a lot of anger in these parts, but I’ve always measured a man by how he takes care of his animals. Many ranchers wouldn’t have paid the vet bill for a cow beyond her calf-bearing years.”
“Speckles is special,” Clay said.
Lou nodded, automatically accepting without question that a rancher could have a favorite beef cow that he’d even named. “Give me a call if you spot any complications.”
“Will do,” Clay promised.
Lou bobbed his head a final time and walked stiffly from the barn. Fortunately, Bowie had accompanied the older man, so he wouldn’t need to make the return drive to Sagebrush himself. Clay headed back into the stall to find Lacey waiting. Neither of them had spoken much, but she’d stayed by his side even though he knew she was exhausted.
“You should get some rest,” Clay said.
She ignored his statement. “Why is Speckles special?”
Clay sank to the ground beside the cow and petted her wide neck. She was sedated, but he still felt the need to soothe. “I helped with her birth. It was a tough one—breech. Her mother didn’t survive. One of my chores was bottle-feeding Speckles. She’s the first animal I ever cared about. I think that was part of my grandfather’s plan—to get me to love ranching.”
Ace, who’d followed them into the barn when they’d returned with Speckles, laid his big head on Clay’s thigh and heaved a huge doggie sigh. Clay scratched the mutt’s broad forehead with the hand not petting the cow.
“I named her Speckles. My grandfather never knew. Hell, I don’t think anyone did until Lou and you.”
“My grandpa and uncle never let me name their calves, especially the bottle-fed ones.” Lacey sat down on the side of him not occupied by a half-dozing dog.
A slight smile twisted Clay’s lips. “It’s a smart rule. You grow too damn attached otherwise.”
“Is that why you’ve kept her even after she wasn’t a breeder?”
Clay nodded. “My grandfather and I argued about it. It was one of the last conversations we had before his heart attack. He told me I treated the cow too much like a damn pet, and it was my city side showing. He wanted to send her to market since she was long past her prime, but I couldn’t. She’s a little over a decade old now, which is ancient for a beef cow.”
Lacey reached for his hand. “It was just your compassionate side. You’ve got a big heart, Clay Stevens. It’s bound to shine through.”
“Well, don’t spread that around. I’ve enough problems trying to convince people I’m a serious rancher without them knowing a cow comes running up to me whenever she catches sight of me.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
He snorted. “You say the same about apex predators.”
“True,” she agreed.
He didn’t know why he spoke the next words. Maybe because he wanted her to understand. Maybe because he was so damn tired of keeping things bottled up. He didn’t even know if he was a naturally private person. He just hadn’t had anyone who’d given a shit about his problems for a long time.
“It was one of Speckles’s descendants who was my first calf killed by wolves. She looked just like her great-grandmother too. I’d even helped with the birth, although her mom had lived, unlike with Speckles, so she wasn’t bottle-fed. That year, I lost five percent of the calves to the lobos.”
“I’m sorry, Clay,” Lacey said, her voice soft. “That must have been hard.”
> He jerked his head, the understanding in her voice washing over him like warm water against sore muscles. She kissed his cheek and rested her head against his shoulder. Neither of them spoke for a long time as they watched Speckles’s measured breathing.
“Thanks for sticking by my side.”
She nodded, the top of her head brushing against his chin. “If you want, I can work with you to think of more ways to protect your herd that won’t interfere with the pack. You could get fladry fences like we talked about, but there are also motion detectors, which flash and make noise. Some alarms can even be triggered by the wolves’ tracking collars. The park would be happy to help you with programming them.”
“I’d like that,” he said as he reached for her hand. Playing with her fingers, he added, “I still can’t believe someone would attack one of my cows.”
Lacey stayed silent for a long time. When she spoke, her voice was hesitant. “I’d hate to think he’d do this, but you did fire Pete Thompson yesterday.”
Clay scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “There’s no love lost between Thompson and me, but I can’t see him purposely chasing an old cow into a ravine. Can you?”
Lacey made circles in his palm with her thumb. “I wouldn’t have imagined him saying those words to me either. A bitterness has been eating at him for years. It’s like the anger has taken over the rational part of his brain.”
“The man does hate my guts.”
“Are you going to tell the police?”
Clay shook his head. “I’ll report what happened, but I won’t name Pete. Everyone knows I let him go. I don’t expect this will be the police department’s top priority either.”
“Somebody was trespassing, and they could’ve seriously injured your cow.”
