Coulda Been a Cowboy

by Brenda Novak

  No one could offer Tyson any real competition. That was part of the reason Dakota was so upset. There wasn’t anything wrong with Joe. She should’ve jumped at the chance to get involved with him. Instead, she’d already backed away.

  “He’s trying to placate his conscience by pretending he’s not standing between you and happiness,” Joe continued. “In reality—and this could be strictly subconscious—he wants to put you on a shelf just in case he changes his mind.”

  Dakota wasn’t sure Joe was right, but he sure sounded confident of his analysis. “You should be a psychologist.”

  “If you look at the situation objectively, it’s not that difficult to read.”

  “Tyson won’t change his mind about me.”

  “He could. He’s definitely tempted.” Joe cocked an eyebrow at her. “He’s about ready to punch me out, isn’t he? That’s not a mild reaction.”

  “If you already knew all of this, why did you invite me to L.A.?”

  He turned her so that she couldn’t see Tyson anymore. “Because, unlike Tyson, I’m not afraid of what you could mean to me. And I don’t have a problem with waiting.”

  “He’s going to break my heart,” she said miserably.

  “I think you might break his, too.”

  “No. I don’t mean that much to him.”

  “Wanna find out?”

  “How?”

  “Simple. Kiss me. Kiss me like you’d kiss Tyson if he were holding you right now, and let’s see what he does.”

  “He won’t do anything. No woman means that much to him.”

  “You won’t know until you test him.”

  The song started coming to an end. “What do you get out of this?” she asked as they slowed to a stop.

  He grinned. “A kiss.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You could get a kiss from just about any woman you wanted.”

  “Maybe you’re the only woman I’ve asked in a long time. Anyway, it’s time for him to fish or cut bait.”

  “Fish or cut bait,” she repeated. That same cliché held true for her.

  Tugging Joe into a small alcove, where someone would have to be specifically watching to notice, she pressed her lips to his. At first it was hard not to draw away. His mouth was warm and soft, but it wasn’t Tyson’s mouth. Only when she closed her eyes and let the wine she’d drunk help her imagine it was Tyson did she feel any desire. Then, parting her lips, she kissed Joe deeply, letting her fingers bunch in his hair.

  They were both breathing hard when they parted. “Wow,” Joe said. He looked a little stunned. But Tyson was nowhere to be seen.

  * * *

  TYSON DIDN’T REAPPEAR for the rest of the evening. Dakota continued to go through the motions of socializing and playing hostess, which she felt obligated to do in Tyson’s absence, but she wanted everyone, including Joe, to go home. By the end of the evening, when all guests were in bed or had used taxis to take them to the motel in Dundee, and she’d finished cleaning the kitchen, it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.

  On impulse, she called home. Her father had been doing better about keeping his promise to stay sober. Or maybe it wasn’t his willpower that deserved the credit. His health had been so bad lately he didn’t feel like eating or drinking. But after what she considered a pretty disastrous evening, she missed him. Maybe she was trying to force too many changes in her life. Maybe, even before Tyson left, she should move home. Watching Braden during the day but sleeping in the trailer at night would help keep her head on straight. Maybe, in a few weeks, she could even dredge up the desire to see Joe again.

  The phone rang four times. She was about to hang up. Her father slept in fits and starts and was often awake at odd hours of the night. But if he happened to be resting well, she didn’t want to disturb him.

  “’Lo?”

  At the sound of his deep, scratchy voice, Dakota brought the receiver back to her ear. “Dad? Did I wake you?”

  “No. But it’s late, isn’t it? Gotta—”

  “Two,” she answered to save him the trouble of using the TV remote to find out. He had a clock in his room, but he piled so much on the dresser he probably couldn’t see it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she lied. “How are you?”

  “The same.”

  “Is the pain in your back getting worse?”

  “Sometimes better or worse isn’t that easy to distinguish. It’s just there, always.”

  Because of me. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I wish…”

  “What?”

  She finally put into words what she’d thought so often in secret “…you hadn’t been able to rescue me that day.”

  “Then you could’ve died!” he said. “Don’t ever talk like that.”

  “But it’s not fair. You told me to stay away from the construction. I can still hear you warning me.”

  “You were only a child. Kids are curious. If I hadn’t taken you with me, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You had to take me. I was too little to stay home alone.”

  “I should’ve waited for Regina or another baby-sitter or…something. I could’ve lost you….” Although his words dwindled off, Dakota heard a silent “too” at the end. He’d lost her mother long before the accident. She’d wounded him maybe as irreparably as the piece of wood that fell on him from twenty feet above. “Anyway, that’s a trade I’d make again, in a heartbeat,” he added gruffly.

  Dakota’s throat tightened at those words. She couldn’t speak right away, so she was grateful when her father didn’t push her for a response.

  “You need anything?” she asked at length. “Braden’s staying with Hanna and Gabe tonight. I could come home. Bring some of the leftover food we’ve got here. I made potato salad.”

  “Isn’t Tyson around?”

  “I think he went to bed a long time ago.”

  “You should be in bed, too. Anyway, it’s starting to rain here. I’d rather not have you out driving in it, especially at this hour.”

  He sounded like the old Skelton, the admonishing and cautious parent she’d known before alcohol had become his crutch.

  “It’s good to talk to you again,” she said softly.

  He didn’t point out that they talked every day, didn’t ask what she meant. On some level, she believed, he understood. “Get some sleep, okay? I don’t need anything.”

  “Dad?” she said before he could hang up.

  “What?”

  “I love you.”

  “I know. I thank God for you every day,” he said and the line went dead.

  Dakota dashed a hand across her wet cheek. The alcohol she’d had earlier was making her feel weepy, she decided. And she hadn’t had much sleep this week. She’d been so busy avoiding Tyson, taking care of Braden and getting ready for the party, she’d been on the go constantly.

  “Everything will look better in the morning,” she promised herself. She hoped that would be true of the whole evening. Even the memory of having kissed Joe just to make Tyson jealous, which seemed terribly desperate now that her reasoning skills were less impaired. But when she climbed the stairs, she didn’t go straight to her room. She saw a sliver of light beneath Tyson’s door and couldn’t resist knocking.

  “Go away,” he said, but she poked her head in anyway.

  He was sitting on his bed, fully clothed, watching television. At the motion of the door, his gaze cut her way. A muscle twitched in his cheek, but he didn’t say anything.

  A voice in Dakota’s head warned her not to go inside. If she waited until morning, her conflicting emotions might possibly disappear, or at least come into sharper focus. She felt like she was dangling at the end of a very thin string, swaying in the wind. She’d fall, and she’d fall hard if she wasn’t careful. But she couldn’t shut the door on the wounded expression that entered Tyson’s eyes when he saw her.

  “Everyone who was planning on leaving has left,” she said, acting as if she’d merely come
to report on the party.

  He didn’t reply.

  “Hank and Elaine are sleeping in the guest room above the garage.”

  No response.

  “I cleaned up. We’re good to go for breakfast, when everyone returns.”

  Nothing.

  Finally Dakota sighed and gave up the false cheer. “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?”

  “Where’s Joe?” he replied.

  She flashed back on that kiss and felt her face flush. “He went to the motel.”

  The muscle flexed in Tyson’s cheek again. “You didn’t have him stay?”

  “No.”

  Looking sleepless and upset with his hair standing up on one side, he watched her closely. “Why not?”

  She took in the definition of his powerful shoulders, the flicker of emotion in his eyes, the sensual mouth that currently formed a hard line. “How can I make love with him when the only person I really want is you?”

  His Adam’s apple moved as his gaze swept over her, and her heart began to pound. She’d laid it all out there, bared her soul. Now she didn’t know what would happen. She thought he might warn her, again, that he’d be leaving. But he didn’t. Her confession seemed to be all that was necessary to snap his restraint.

  “Let’s do it this time,” he said.

  * * *

  DAKOTA WAS SO NERVOUS she could barely get into the pretty bra and panties that Tyson had given her as she left his room. He’d told her she didn’t have to wear them unless she wanted to, but she definitely wanted to. In them, she felt prettier, sexier. Still, she’d never owned such revealing lingerie, let alone worn it for someone. And her weight loss was so recent that she wasn’t completely confident in her body. Was she thin enough? Would he find her attractive?

  She felt so exposed—physically and emotionally.

  “Dakota?” He was right outside her door. Obviously she was taking too long, but breezing into his room wearing nothing except a sheer bra and a thong seemed so brazen. She’d been trying to figure out whether or not she should cover up with the clothes she’d had on before, or use a robe.

  “Yes?”

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  She drew a deep breath. “No.”

  “So…why are you still in there?”

  “I’m just wondering—” she shot another glance at herself in the mirror “—am I supposed to wear something over this?”

  His low chuckle was filled with relief. “Why? I’ll just have to take it off. I prefer you skin to skin.” His voice had deepened, grown rougher. “Can I come in?” he asked when she didn’t immediately open the door.

  Reaching over, she flipped off the light. “Sure.”

  The door opened, and she steeled herself for the moment he’d see her in the sliver of light from the hall. But it wasn’t as frightening as she’d anticipated. He stared at her with his mouth agape, his eyes moving over her as if he couldn’t take in her appearance quickly enough. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed.

  She smiled, no longer quite so self-conscious. “What made you buy this stuff?” she asked.

  “The desire to see you in it.” He came in and closed the door behind him.

  Emboldened by the sudden and complete darkness, Dakota stepped toward him. She craved Tyson’s hands on her body, his mouth hungrily devouring hers. Every nerve seemed to scream for the same thing, so loudly she couldn’t hear above the cacophony of need.

  He touched her first at the bare curve of her waist. His hand rested there lightly, as if he was afraid he might spook her if he didn’t calm her first. Then his mouth found hers, giving her a chaste but tempting kiss. “You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

  She parted her lips, prepared for something far deeper, and he groaned as she encouraged him. Moving his tongue over hers, he explored her mouth in a thorough, searching kiss that left her weak at the knees. “And you taste every bit as good as I thought you would.”

  Finding the bare skin beneath his shirt, Dakota slipped her fingers up and over the muscular contours of his chest. She’d imagined doing this at least a million times, but the reality of touching the man she loved so powerfully and so hopelessly was better than she could’ve dreamed.

  This was what she’d longed for—and what she feared. She’d fallen for a man who would never offer her what she was willing to offer him. But she couldn’t think about that now. Heady desire seemed to spread through her veins like sweet, thick honey.

  His nipples puckered beneath her touch, and she heard him suck in a quick breath. “This won’t be easy,” he said.

  “What won’t be easy?” she murmured. So far, it was the easiest thing in the world, everything she wanted.

  “To go slow, to not get carried away.” His hand was on her breast, stroking her through the thin fabric of her bra, which made it difficult to think. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “It won’t hurt for long, right?”

  “I’m hoping it won’t hurt at all.” Tyson’s hand moved lower, making her squirm at the intimacy of the contact.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Relax.”

  Relax? Was he kidding? “That’s asking a bit much. I’m not sure I can even breathe.”

  “That’s part of the fun. You like it, right?”

  Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back. “I like it.”

  His razor stubble grazed her neck as he kissed her there. “Tell me what you want, Dakota. Tell me you want me as bad as I want you.”

  She caught his face between her hands. “I do,” she answered earnestly.

  He stared down at her as he slipped aside her thong. “Where, Dakota? Where do you want me?”

  She couldn’t answer. Her whole world seemed to be tilting on its axis, leaving her boneless and weak and completely dependent on him. He didn’t give her time to respond, anyway. Using one arm to support her, he kissed her again while using his other hand to search out everything he’d denied himself. “Here?” he asked, and thrust his finger deep.

  She gasped at the heady rush of pleasure that slammed into her.

  The muscles in his body tensed in response, and he paused to rest his forehead against hers. He didn’t explain, but she got the impression he was struggling not to lose control. “You’re perfect,” he told her, his voice strained as if he hovered somewhere between pain and ecstasy.

  She undid the top button of his jeans, but he stopped her before she could touch anything more than the straining zipper. “Not yet.”

  “Why not?” she murmured, slightly dazed.

  His hand slid her panties aside once again, more confidently and possessively this time, as though he’d already done a little exploring and had every right to claim the new territory as his own. “Because it’s your turn.”

  “Can’t we both have our turns together? Isn’t that how it works?”

  His laugh held no humor. “If I didn’t want you so bad, maybe we could.”

  At least she wasn’t in this alone.

  Dakota was already soaring inside—gliding, spinning, dipping and gathering speed. Tyson was at the center of it all, both the cause and the reason. She’d never felt so physically or emotionally out of control.

  Picking her up, he carried her into his room and deposited her on the bed. Then he stripped off his clothes and lay next to her.

  The feel of his skin against hers was every bit as heavenly as she’d imagined. She let her hands delve into his hair, raked her nails gently across his back and breathed in the scent of wood and evergreen that lingered on him.

  “This feels so good,” she said. “You feel good.”

  “Take these off.”

  When she obediently wriggled out of her panties, he acted as if he wanted to roll her beneath him immediately. But he stopped her when she tried to slip her arms around his neck, encouraging him to do just that. “Not yet,” he told her. The light was on in his room, and she could watch him watching her. He was gazing down at her as if he�
��d never seen anything more lovely.

  “Why not?”

  He kissed the side of her mouth. “You’re not ready.”

  She might’ve argued, but he’d unhooked her bra, and she couldn’t think as his mouth closed over one of her breasts. “Tyson!” she gasped.

  He laughed, his breath warm against the wetness he’d created, and moved to her other breast.

  She arched into him, seeking more of the titillating scrape of his tongue. The tension inside her was so tight she thought she might explode. “What are you doing to me?” she asked.

  But he didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His mouth soon left her breasts and moved lower—and a few minutes later, she knew.

  * * *

  TYSON HAD NEVER USED so much restraint. Probably because he’d never been quite so eager to make love to a woman. But the added effort with Dakota was worth it. When her hands fisted in his hair and she moaned his name, he felt a great deal of masculine pride—which quickly gave way to pleasure as he eased himself inside her.

  “That’s it,” he encouraged as her body slowly accepted him. If it hurt, she didn’t complain or even flinch. Of course, she’d been through enough in her life that she wasn’t the spoiled or delicate type. He was proud of that, proud of her. She was a survivor.

  Still, he was taking it so slowly it was almost an agony to him. Watching her carefully, he began to move slowly and gently, trying to read her every expression, her body’s responses. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Stop holding back,” she said. “I want all of you.”

  He closed his eyes as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, and finally gave in to the drive that had been building in him for weeks. Pleased when she eagerly met his every thrust, he finally allowed his body the release it craved. After the most exquisite pleasure blasted through him, he collapsed on top of her, enjoying the musky scent of her sweat-slicked body. But a few seconds later, he roused himself and rolled off so he wouldn’t crush her.

  “You still okay?” he asked. Sleep beckoned, but he didn’t want to succumb until he’d made sure she felt good about what they’d done.