by Em Petrova
She led the horse to the creek, and he stepped up to the bank, planted his feet and lowered his head to the water. A few feet away, Dane encouraged his horse to the creek’s edge.
“Always loved this section of the creek.”
She looked up at him. “You came here before?”
“Lots, as a boy. Old Connally didn’t like us Moon boys trespassin’ and chased us off his land more than once. But we always came back to get a fishin’ line into this deep pool.”
“It is charming. When I first saw it, I thought I’d like to picnic here someday.”
He scuffed his knuckles along his angled, unshaven jaw. “Why not today?”
What that beard must feel like on bare skin…
She glanced back across the field the way they came. “I left the picnic food back there.”
He chuckled. “I can walk back and get it for us. Here, watch my horse so he doesn’t bolt off. I’ve had enough of bolting horses for one weekend.”
“Me too.” She took the reins from him, her mind on the fire. But when the leather he’d been holding touched her fingers, she noticed how warm they felt from his gloved hand.
Really, she needed to stop this obsession.
While Dane set off across the field to collect the lunch, she battled with herself for only seconds before she couldn’t hold back anymore and she turned to goggle at him.
No more, Brennah. You’ve looked at him enough.
Just one more.
Okay, two. He is really fine.
The man’s carved physique and hard planes of his backside in low-slung jeans gave her a whole new outlook on the beauty of the land she owned.
To distract herself, she petted the horses and checked them over for strained ligaments, but they were both in good health. Dane knew how to care for horses.
When he returned with the lunch and thermos, she dusted her hands off on the butt of her jeans. The corner of his mouth tipped up.
“Saw you checking the horses over. Do they pass your assessment?”
She drew her shoulders back and stretched to her full height. “Yes, they’re solid animals. Very well-kept.”
“Zayden will appreciate you sayin’ so,” he drawled, passing her the bag.
She set it on the creek bank. Now that an impromptu picnic was on the schedule, she had no idea how to go about it. She pictured romantic movies where actors picnicked in a park and then read poetry to each other. This definitely wasn’t that kind of picnic.
He uncapped the thermos. “Mind if I take a drink? I’m parched.”
“I brought it for you.”
With a courteous nod, he tipped the cold brew into his mouth. He drank for long seconds, and she fought to keep from staring at the way his throat worked. A throat shouldn’t turn her on, but each swallow seemed to heighten her awareness of the man.
Unsure of what else to do, she sank to the bank Indian-style and unzipped the bag. He stopped chugging the tea and dropped down beside her. Close. Close enough that she could smell the masculine notes of his soap and study his tattoos in a very personal way, if she wanted.
“I appreciate the lunch, Brennah. You didn’t have to go to any trouble for me.”
“The least I can do is feed you for your hard work. Now, what will you have?”
He caught her stare and held it, which left her sweating in places she didn’t think she’d ever grown so overheated in before.
“Whatta ya got?” His low tone wove through her body.
She turned her attention to the contents of the bag. “Ham. Turkey. And pickle loaf.”
“No idea what pickle loaf is, but I’ll try it. I’m feelin’ mighty adventurous today.” He sent her a wink, and heat climbed her cheeks.
As she passed him the foil-wrapped sandwich, she ducked her head to hide from the heat of his stare.
Chapter Six
Brennah really had no idea how adorable she was. As they shared sandwiches and tea in the shade of the trees lining the creek, the woman didn’t put on airs or give him coy smiles. She talked about horses.
“Saw a mighty nice stallion in your field.” He polished off the rest of his pickle loaf sandwich. Didn’t taste bad, but he couldn’t say he’d go out of his way to eat another sandwich, either. Of course, if eating the deli meat meant hanging around Brennah more, he’d probably force himself.
“Thanks. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do with him.”
“What made you purchase him then?”
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I had some cash to spend at auction and he came on the block. One look and I started bidding. I still can’t believe I won. What would you do with him?”
He swigged again. “Train him?”
“Have to geld him for that. He’s already isolated from the mares and putting up a big fuss over it.” Her brown eyes took on a faraway look, as if she wasn’t sitting here with him. “Yeah, I’ll probably geld him as soon as I get the time.”
“Could always breed him.”
She tilted her head, and warm brown waves slipped over her shoulder. “I’ve considered it. But when I was a kid, all I wanted to do was train horses.”
Smiling, he said, “Thought you only wanted to be a vet.”
“There was never another option for me. What about you?”
He eyed her. “Did I always dream of becoming a male dancer?”
Her straight expression cracked, and she pressed her fingers over her lips. A giggle burst from behind her hand. “I’m sorry. I meant cowboyin’. Working on a ranch.”
“Oh that.” He grinned and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I grew up on the ranch and never thought of much else back then. When I left, I took whatever work I could find. Did my share of shovelin’.”
“Shoveling what?” She planted her hands behind her and leaned back in the same pose as him.
“Shit mostly.”
“You’re a very frank man, aren’t you?”
“Don’t see any point in pretending I’m someone I’m not. I’m a Moon, and that means I grew up rough.”
“I remember from school, but I only know what I’ve heard.”
“It’s probably better that you don’t. It was no life.”
Her eyes softened. He studied the depths for a long minute before speaking.
“Which horse are you plannin’ to train?”
She sat straighter, drawing her hands into her lap and kneading at the knuckles on her right hand. “I’ve already begun working with one. The horse with the reddish coat?”
He nodded.
“That’s Ladybug.”
He chuckled. “Ladybug?”
“Yeah, for her red coat.”
He noted that she rubbed the knuckles over and over and wondered if her joints were sore. “I see potential in her.”
What would she do if he kissed her again? Laid her back on this bank and gathered her hair in his fist and tipped her head to kiss her neck? Or slipped a hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast?
To keep from acting on his imaginings, he closed his fingers over her wrist and drew her hand into his. “You’ve got sore knuckles,” he said.
“Uh… Yes, I was shearing the llamas.”
He gave her a crooked smile and worked over her forefinger with small massaging motions. At first, he felt the tension radiating from her, but after he rubbed two more fingers, she let her hand lay boneless in his.
“Did your stripper wife need her hands rubbed too?”
He laughed. “Ex-wife.” Or she would be any day now. “It wouldn’t surprise me—who knows what she did on the side. But no, I never did the honors.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He chuckled. “Seems like you have a way of speakin’ what’s on your mind too. What did you call me? Frank?”
“Yes.” She pulled her hand free. “Thank you. Would you like another sandwich?”
“Maybe later.” His body craved something much more than food. Was he even ready to have a wo
man in his life after Liz? Even if he was, she was far too smart for the likes of him.
But her intelligence and openness drew him to her. Hell, if he could, he’d throw away everything and start fresh.
He searched her eyes. Christ, when she nibbled her lip that way…
I have to hold back.
She stood, and he pushed himself off the ground too.
That kiss they’d shared was a blip in time, something that would never happen again. Too bad—she sure looked pretty, standing there with her eyes wide and her hair swirling around her face in the light breeze...the prettiest country girl he ever saw.
* * * * *
“Well, I’ve got four more llamas to shear today.” Brennah started to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and swung her back.
Her breasts bumped into his hard chest. Her hips felt magnetized to the steel of his.
That look in his eyes, though… Her lungs heaved for air, and damn if she could find any in all of Colorado. With him scorching her with his stare, how could she begin to think straight?
“What do you want from me?” Her whisper came out as a breath, and she was afraid the wind snatched the sound before he heard.
Gazing down at her, he slid a hand up her spine. She would not shiver. No way.
Oh damn, I shivered.
“I want this.” He swooped in and claimed her lips.
She sucked in sharply, but that only gave him an opening to thrust his tongue. When the sweet, hot torture of his tongue touched hers, she couldn’t stifle the moan she’d been holding in since she spotted him shirtless in her field.
He swished his tongue across hers again and cradled her head in one broad palm. She let her head fall back, loving the feel of his rough fingers working into her strands and massaging her scalp as he deepened the kiss.
Need made her shake. Her knees threatened to buckle. And heat enveloped her lower belly with a fire she wanted to increase until there was only an inferno blazed between the two of them.
“Brennah,” he whispered against her lips, raising a throb in her core.
He nibbled her lower lip. When he bit down on the sensitive skin and tugged with his teeth, her eyes flew open. Up close, she saw the glitter in his eyes and the dark, dangerous look buried even further in the depths.
“You’re toying with me.”
He shook his head, brushing his mouth over hers, then trailing to the corner, across her cheek to her ear. As the first liquid heat hit her earlobe, she couldn’t squelch a cry.
Lashing her to him, he swirled his tongue over her ear and down her throat. A tremor spread through her lower belly, and all she could do was clamp her thighs tighter against the rising tumult inside her.
“You’re so damn soft. So sweet.” His murmur sent shockwaves through her, and her panties grew drenched.
Suddenly, he pressed his knuckles beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to his. So many variations of amber lived in his eyes, she couldn’t begin to count them.
“I don’t toy with women,” he grated out.
She pushed away from him, gasping for air and finding none. The man seemed to suck it all out of the atmosphere with his very presence.
Her glance landed on his broad, bare chest, and she couldn’t think about anything but following the lines of ink with her fingertips and learning every inch of Dane Moon.
“I’ve got to… get to work,” she panted out.
He tugged the brim of his hat, shadowing his eyes. “Me too.”
Remorse flooded in. Ending their time together this way seemed wrong.
“I…” She met his stare.
He tore his away and locked on her lips again. “Brennah, if you don’t go now, I’m gonna kiss you again. And I don’t know if I can stop this time.”
Drawing a breath that hitched a little too much for her to prove she was immune to him, she nodded. She picked up the lunch bag and thermos and took off walking toward home as fast as she could go. Her mind raced. Her pulse raced faster.
God, the man had her half-crazy with lust and a bone-deep need to explore this wildness rising inside her. Every move the man made, her body took the bait. She sank deep into each moment she spent with him, and she never did that, never lost that control, not with anybody.
Once she reached the house, she opened the kitchen door and dropped the lunch bag inside. For a long minute, she battled herself. She wanted to go back to that creek and kiss him again.
Instead, she forced herself to her tasks and that meant shearing llamas. For the next two hours straight, she clipped her babies, and the pile of wool overflowed several cardboard boxes. But the work didn’t occupy her mind enough to keep her thoughts off Dane.
Everything about the man lured her in, including the faces he made while attempting to swallow the pickle loaf sandwich. A giggle escaped her, but it sounded like a moan.
Their conversation left her wanting more. And his kisses… What was she supposed to do with the riot inside her body? Each time they were near each other, he took things a step further. Next time they met, he might unbutton her top, kiss her breasts and do all the things she saw blazing in those amber eyes.
Better question to ask—would she let him?
“Oh Dolly Llama… I’m so confused,” she said to her pet, who stood there half sheared, patiently waiting for Brennah to get her crap together and continue.
She drew up straight. “I have to forget about him.” At least for one night. Get her work done, do the laundry she’d been putting off and prepare for a busy week of work ahead at the clinic. She didn’t have time for a gorgeous hunk of a cowboy who knew only too well how to make a woman burn.
Next time he came around, she wouldn’t go out into the field and talk to him, or take him sandwiches—and she definitely would not kiss him back.
But when she closed her fingers on the thick wool of her pet, she imagined all the slick, hard, tanned flesh of Dane’s body.
* * * * *
Dane walked out of the barn and stood there for several moments, looking out at the dark, sleeping ranch. The horses dozed inside the wooden walls, and Dane had put in a hard day of heavy work here with Zayden, finally stacking the hay in the dry shed, moving the herd to a new pasture and then installing a new solar-powered watering system for them.
His body might be fatigued, but he felt far from tired. Plus, he hadn’t been alone all day to make the call to Big John.
He took out his cellphone and thumbed over the screen. Was he to blame or his old man? He didn’t like being lumped into the same category as the asshole, either. Even if Big John hadn’t sent someone to take the tractor or burn Brennah’s field, Dane’s responsibility lay with handling his past.
He put in a call to Liz and got her voicemail. He called back a second time, and this time she answered, like he knew she would.
“What the hell do you want?” Her smart mouth projected all the way from Vegas. He liked sassy women, but not her. Not anymore.
“I’m calling to make sure those loan sharks are leaving you alone.” No sense in mincing words.
“I haven’t heard from them and if I had, I’d tell them exactly where to find you, Dane Moon.”
He scuffed his boot against the turf. “Do that. Give them my number. I need to make sure I paid in full.”
“Wait a minute. Now that I have ya on the phone, there’s the matter of a huge chunk of cash missing from our joint bank account. What the hell, Dane? You lost fifteen grand at the craps table?”
“No, that was somethin’ else.”
“Somethin’— You can’t just take money out of our account that way, without telling me!”
“Why not? You did the same. We were never married where it counts, Liz. We both know it.”
She fell quiet. He pictured her right now, getting ready to go onstage for the night, primping herself with makeup, shimmery powder and skimpy clothes.
“Don’t call me again, Dane.”
“I won’t. Before ya go, I need to know when
to expect the divorce to be final.”
“Why? You already got another wife in line? Good luck to her.” She gave a harsh laugh, while he found zero humor in the situation.
His ex was right, though—any woman within a mile of him needed much more than luck, because he was sure to fuck up her life. His father’s legacy lived on in him.
“Just tell me when the divorce is final.”
“A few more days. I filed the minute you walked out of my life.”
“All right. Thanks for the information, Liz.”
“Bye, Dane. Don’t call again.”
“I won’t.”
He ended the call and let his head drop back against the barn wall. He raised it and let it thud a second time. Could he possibly knock some sense into himself?
After thumbing through his contacts, he located another number and placed the call. When he got the voicemail, this time he felt a low pang of relief that the guy didn’t pick up. He wanted to dodge Big John even though he needed to end this once and for all.
“This is Dane Moon. I want to settle things privately with you. Give me a call at this number and we’ll talk, but don’t get involved with my brother or ex-wife at all. You only deal with me. Understand?” He hung up and scrubbed a hand over his face.
With a grunt, he pushed off the wall and took off walking around the barn and up to the house. What he really wanted was to see Brennah. The gut-deep ache had been hanging with him all day. While he’d finished up the first pass of her field, using her tractor this time, he hadn’t set eyes on the woman at all.
She worked long shifts. Hell, she was dedicated. What could he say he’d dedicated himself to? Being an idiot.
Leaving her alone sounded like his only course. But when did he ever listen to sense?
He went into the house and quietly closed the door.
“Is that you, Z?” Mimi’s voice rang out from the living room.
He shucked his boots and walked into the bright, freshly painted space. So much had changed from the days where he’d walk into the living room to find his old man passed out in a puddle of his own vomit. How many times had Dane battled the urge to kick him in the balls while he was down for the count? How many times had he wished his dad would be like everyone else’s and take him fishin’ or to baseball practice?
