His Rodeo Sweetheart

by Pamela Britton

  “Good job, buddy!” Colt called when it was all said and done.

  Adam got to lead everyone out of the arena, a look of pride on his face. He had eyes only for her, she noticed, tears filling her eyes again. Thank God for the sunglasses.

  “How’d I do?” he asked her.

  “You did great,” she said as Colt slipped the bridle back on Playboy’s head.

  “I’m not sure I liked how you jacked your heels into my horse’s sides,” Natalie gently scolded.

  “I know.” Adam had the grace to look abashed. “But I knew you’d never let me run like that with my mom around.”

  No. She wouldn’t. She’d have told him it was too dangerous. That he wasn’t ready for the exertion. That he might fall. A million different excuses would have been offered, all under the guise of keeping him safe. But Ethan was right. It was time to let go. Time to move on. Her son wanted that, and because he wanted it, she would learn to live with it, too.

  “You were amazing,” she heard Ethan say.

  She inhaled because there was pride in his voice, too. Pride and approval and joy. For her son.

  So what if he loves Adam, she told herself. Because there was that in his voice, too. He cared for her son. She saw it in his eyes when she gained the courage to look up at him.

  “Thanks, Ethan,” her son said, smiling back.

  They all headed toward the parking area, Claire making sure she kept her distance from Ethan. She’d seen him glance at her in puzzlement earlier, and again now as she made sure to keep Playboy between the two of them. He probably thought she was mad at him about his question last night, but that wasn’t it at all. When he’d touched her earlier, it had jolted her, to the core. It was that way every time he touched her. Time and distance hadn’t done anything to make that stop. If anything, it’d made her crave him more.

  Stupid physical attraction.

  That was all it was, she firmly told herself. The man did it for her and she had no idea why. Well, aside from the fact that he was good-looking. And kind. And smart. And sweet. And good to her son.

  Stop it.

  “Did you see my slide stop, Mom?”

  “I did.”

  “That was a blast.”

  “That wasn’t in the game plan, either,” her brother said.

  “I know.” Adam’s smile was full of pride. “But we pulled it off okay.”

  “You sure did,” Natalie said with a glance at her husband. Colt wouldn’t perform until later, toward the middle of the rodeo, when he and the Galloping Girlz would do some impressing of their own.

  “Can I do it again?” Adam asked Colt.

  “Only if your mom says it’s okay.”

  “Mom?” Adam said, peering back at her from atop Playboy.

  “Let me think about it.”

  That seemed to appease her son. He went back to talking to Colt and Natalie and Carolina and the other Galloping Girlz, she and Ethan trailing behind. She tried not to be aware of him as they crossed between cowboys swinging ropes and horses tied to the rail. He fit right in with his pink-and-white-checkered shirt and off-white cowboy hat. More than one cowgirl had eyed him up and down as he walked past. Those ladies would go completely gaga if they knew he was a veterinarian. That he loved dogs. That he was good with kids. That he knew how to kiss...

  What is with you?

  It was him, she admitted. Ethan and his kind words and his sweet touch and the way she’d tossed and turned all night thinking about the way he kissed and how good it felt to have him hold her. Just the thought made her tingle and squirm and flush as she fought off the memory of the touch of his hands.

  “I think when we’re all done here tonight we should go out and celebrate.” It was Colt who spoke the words, and something about the tone caught her attention. “Natalie and I were thinking we could take you to dinner and then ice cream, Adam.”

  “Cool!”

  “We’re all going, right?” Claire asked warily.

  “Actually, Natalie and I would like to spend time with our nephew all on our own, if that’s okay with you. We were even thinking of doing a sleepover.” His smile was pure cheese. “You know, like we used to do in the old days.”

  “Yay!” Adam said with fist to the air.

  The sly look Colt shot Ethan made Claire think this wasn’t just uncle-nephew bonding time. In fact, she would bet this was all planned. He might try to hide his self-satisfaction behind an innocent smile, but she saw right through him.

  “I don’t know,” she hedged.

  “Please, Mom?” Adam pulled on Playboy’s reins. They all stopped. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to spend the night at Uncle Colt’s.”

  Shame on you for using my son like this, she told Colt with her eyes, not that he could see them behind her sunglasses, but he knew what she was thinking.

  Colt just smiled. “Let him go. He’ll be fine.”

  You’ll be fine. That was what he really meant.

  “Please,” Adam added again.

  She didn’t want to, she really didn’t, but with everyone staring at her... “Okay, fine.”

  “Terrific,” Colt said. “Ethan, you can take my sister to dinner on your way home.”

  Pfft. As if she hadn’t seen that coming.

  “I’d be delighted.”

  And that, too. She should be furious. She’d spent hours last night convincing herself to keep on staying away from Ethan because despite the way he’d helped her with Adam, she still refused to think about him romantically. Yeah, she desired him. No doubt about that, but it was just physical. Mentally she wasn’t ready for him or any other man. She was used to being on her own. Life was comfortable that way. She didn’t need the stress of a new relationship.

  Even though you want him, taunted a little voice.

  Physical, she reminded herself. She would let Colt think he’d gotten one over on her. She’d smile at Ethan and act as if she planned to go home with him, but in fact, they were at her hometown rodeo and she could find her own way home. Ethan wouldn’t know what happened until it was too late.

  It would be better that way.

  * * *

  SHE’D DITCHED HIM.

  Ethan could have cheerfully choked her. He’d looked for her for half an hour before receiving her text.

  Caught a ride with a friend. See you later.

  “I’ll see her later, all right,” he muttered, turning down the road that led to her house. Enough of this. They needed to hash out their feelings for each other. He needed to tell her what he’d realized earlier in the evening.

  I’m falling in love with you.

  He didn’t know if she was ready to hear the words or not. Hell, he didn’t know if he was ready to say them or if any of this was even real. They’d only met a few weeks ago. It seemed crazy to think he could go from fighting in the Middle East to falling in love with a woman in so short a time, yet there it was.

  Her truck was still parked out in front. That was a relief. He’d been worried she’d leave on the off chance he might stop by. It surprised him that she hadn’t. Then again, maybe this was part of her plan.

  See you later.

  Had it been an invitation?

  When she swung her front door open he knew that it hadn’t.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Okay. So she really had ditched him. She really didn’t want to see him. Fine. “We need to talk.”

  He might not be able to buy her dinner, but he could get to the bottom of her cold shoulder.

  “About what?”

  He took off his cowboy hat, holding it in front of him like a shield. “About why you had a hard time saying two words to me all day? And why you just ditched me. Are you mad at me or something?”

  “N
o.” She lifted her chin, her black hair falling over her white T-shirt. She’d changed out of pink and she looked super sexy in a sleeveless tank top loose around her waist but low enough that he had a hard time keeping his gaze on her face. She still wore the jeans, but he suddenly found himself wishing he could peel them off.

  “Then what was the problem?”

  She shrugged. “I was nervous about my son riding.”

  Bull. He almost said that very thing except he suddenly noticed that she fidgeted with the door handle. She twisted it back and forth and back and forth. It even slipped from her grasp with a loud snick. She gave him a faux smile and went back to twisting it again.

  It dawned on him then with a certainty that drove him to take a step closer. He knew what bothered her, and it had nothing to do with fear for her son. Her problem was with him.

  “Adam was in good hands.” He took another step closer.

  Her voice sounded raspy as she said, “Adam has been sick.”

  Another step. Her eyes flicked left and then right, as if she sought to escape. “But he’s not sick anymore.”

  “Technically, he is because he’s still not officially in remission.”

  “Shush.”

  “Excuse me?” But she held her ground. He saw it then, the spark of excitement in her eyes. She might pretend indifference, but she was far from that.

  “We’ve been over this a million times before.”

  “I know, so there’s nothing left to say.”

  “I know that,” he said, stepping inside her home before she could close the door on him, and tossing his hat onto the coatrack that stood by the door. “And I agree with you. We shouldn’t talk.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We should do something else.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Are you going to deny you have feelings for me?”

  She lifted her chin. “How I feel is irrelevant.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  He clasped her face between his palms. She tried to pull back, but not very hard. Oh, no. Her eyes invited him closer.

  “Shh,” he said again, and then he kissed her.

  She’d gone completely still, but that was okay because it gave him time to caress those silky soft lips with his own, to sip the taste of her: honey and vanilla. That was what she tasted like. He wasn’t content to lightly taste her, though. He wanted all of her and so he tipped his head a bit, increased the pressure, all the while still cupping her jaw with his hands.

  She collapsed.

  That was how it felt. Her body melted into his, and he found himself dropping his hands to her waist, propping her up. Her mouth opened beneath his, and then her tongue touched his own and it nearly killed him. The smell of her. The taste of her. The way she brushed up against him. The tips of her breasts pressed against his chest and he wanted to bend down and taste each one of them, but he didn’t.

  He broke off the kiss, tipped his head back. “Lord,” he heard himself say. “You’re going to kill me.”

  She breathed hard, too. He could feel those breasts touch him and then retreat, touch him and then retreat, the sensation both erotic and frustrating. As if sensing the direction of his thoughts she shifted in his arms. He thought she might move away, gave her every opportunity to do so, but she didn’t.

  “What are you doing to me?” She rested her head against his chest.

  “Kissing you,” he answered.

  Fantasizing about you. Thinking about what it’d be like to do so much more than merely kiss you. Wanting to touch you in places that would make you groan again. But he didn’t say that.

  “No.” She reared back to look at him. “It’s so much more than that.”

  She felt it, too, then, he realized. She felt the emotions building between them. It wasn’t just sexual attraction.

  “Claire,” he said, cupping her jaw again, and she didn’t move away. No, she tipped her head so that she pressed her cheek into his palm, like a contented cat. He grew brave then, bent to kiss her again. She watched his head lower. He saw her pupils dilate in anticipation, but she didn’t move away. When their lips connected, she kissed him back and he knew what he wanted then. It wasn’t just to be with her. He wanted to be one with her. To love her. To bring her joy and pleasure and happiness as she’d never known before. It was a need as fierce as the one he’d felt to fight for his country.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  She pointed behind them. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were soft and she was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen.

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  What was she doing?

  You’re going to have sex.

  The answer was as clear and as simple and as firm as that. She was going to go to bed with Ethan McCall and she wasn’t going to regret it. She was going to revel in what it felt like to be touched by a man once again because, damn it all, it’d been far too long.

  “Do you have protection?” he asked, stopping by the side of her bed.

  “No.” She’d had no need of birth control, not when she didn’t plan on sleeping with anyone. “Do you?”

  He shook his head.

  She didn’t want to get pregnant, although as she did the mental math she figured she should be okay. Still, that wasn’t the point. It mattered.

  She just didn’t care.

  Her whole body tingled. Not just the center of her. Everything, everywhere, all over. She wanted him and the release that would come from being with him and damn the consequences.

  “I guess I should ask if I need to be worried about you.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been overseas for months, and I don’t make a habit of using my leave to chase down women. It’s been a long time for me, too.”

  The confession, coming as it did from such a handsome man, should have surprised her. Somehow it didn’t. He didn’t seem the type to mess around. He seemed the type to want to care first.

  “Then I guess I’m not worried.”

  “Good,” he said, his hand reaching out and sliding under her shirt. She didn’t wear a bra. Had he known that? If he didn’t he knew it now because her nipples contracted the moment his fingers brushed her belly. The tingling turned into ripples of pleasure, and she closed her eyes as she allowed him to touch her, all of her, her shirt sliding off her shoulders with her barely noticing.

  “I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this for days.”

  She felt the brush of his breath, knew what he was about to do and arched into him in anticipation because the ripples had intensified. Something soft yet sharp captured the tip of her and she moaned.

  “Just like this,” he said, circling her with his tongue.

  Somehow she found herself backed up against the bed although she had no idea if he’d guided her there or if she’d moved. He kept kissing her, though, and it made her grow weak at the knees to the point that she sank onto the bed. He didn’t follow her down. He simply stared at her and the look in his eyes made her feel so sexy and so wanted that she didn’t hesitate to unsnap her jeans, and then lower the zipper. Her underwear followed the pants. He did the same, first pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, then unbuttoning his pink shirt. She’d never seen him so naked before and she realized then how fit a body he had. The wounds on his arms had long since healed, but they did nothing to detract from the physical splendor that was Ethan.

  He drew his jeans down next, kneeling to pull them over his feet, which had been stripped of their boots at some point although she didn’t recall him taking them off.

  “Slip on over,” he said softly.

  It was the moment of truth. They were both naked, and once she moved he would be on the bed with her. This wonderful, glorious man would make lo
ve to her. It would be only the second time she’d been with a man since Marcus.

  Don’t think about that.

  He slid down next to her, on his belly, his shoulders so wide and so big she found herself reaching out and touching them. He touched her, too, her face, swiping a lock of hair off her cheek.

  “So beautiful,” he said.

  No, she wasn’t. Her nose was too big and her mouth too wide. She hated how little her breasts were and she felt as if she had monster thighs.

  He didn’t appear to notice. No. He looked into her eyes, not at her body.

  “So very, very beautiful,” he said.

  He talked about her soul. It melted her heart in a way that made her eyes warm with tears. That was the last thought she had before the ripples of pleasure took over again, and desire replaced thought because he leaned toward her and kissed her. She opened her mouth to him immediately and it all became a jumble. His hand on her thigh. Her tongue brushing his lips. His fingers trailing a path to her center. She didn’t want him to wait, but he took his time. His mouth moved off her own, soft lips brushing her neck and then her collarbone, his hand cupping her and causing her to cry out in pleasure. He worked her like a master craftsman, her body clay in his hands as he molded her and touched her and turned her desire into a frenzy.

  “Ethan.”

  He must have heard the frustration in her voice because he moved. She felt his knee nudge her and she didn’t hesitate as she welcomed him home.

  “Oh, sweet heaven,” she thought she heard him mutter.

  He filled her perfectly and she thought she might die of pleasure right there and then, but he refused to hurry. She tried to edge him on, lifted her hips, pressed him down into her, and yet he took her gently and slowly and she wanted to cry all over again at how perfect it all felt.

  Her soft sighs turned into moans and her moans into cries of pleasure. Her hips matched his slow rhythm and it was as if they’d been together before. He knew exactly how to move and when to slow down and when to speed up and as she drew closer and closer to her breaking point, he knew when to let her go.

  “Claire,” he cried out.

  She followed the sound of his voice, landing on the sweet side of pleasure, her cry of release so loud she knew she should feel shame. No, she silently amended as she slowly drifted back into the reality of his arms, not shame. Wonder. And delight. And something else she couldn’t identify, a something that caused a sharp jolt of fear, but she thrust that something back down before it could take over her thoughts. What she wanted right now was to hold Ethan. To sleep for a while held in a man’s arms. She’d missed that for so long.