A Real Cowboy Loves Forever (Wyoming Rebels Book 5)

by Stephanie Rowe

  The idea of hiking made energy hum through her, a surprising burst of energy that she hadn't felt in a long time. It made her feel powerful, no longer a victim. Taking action felt so much better than waiting to become roadside carnage. Grinning, she quickly leaned into the back seat, dug through her bags for her hiking boots and her raincoat. Within five minutes, she'd changed her shoes, zipped the ranch house key, her phone, the directions, and her wallet into the inside pocket of the coat, and chowed a granola bar.

  Thunder rumbled just as she was reaching for the door handle. She hesitated for a split second, then looked around at the car. Another prison, just like her apartment. Suddenly, she couldn't take another second of it. She had to be outside. She had to be moving. She had to be breathing in fresh air. Now.

  So she shoved open the door, stepped into six inches of muddy, raging water, and got out. The wind hit hard, and the rain thundered down, and she realized it was really brutal out. She hesitated, one hand on the door frame, suddenly unsure what to do. What if it was longer than she thought to the ranch? What if she got lost? There was literally no one to come to aid. No cell service. No cars going past. But, there were coyotes, or at least one. They didn't attack people, though, she was pretty sure. Crap. Was she a total fool to get out of the car and start hiking? Or would she be a bigger fool to sit in her car until someone came past?

  Probably hiking was the worse choice.

  But dammit. She didn't want to sit around anymore. She wanted to move. To live. To feel her body work again.

  Screw it.

  She was hiking.

  With a renewed sense of power, she slammed her door shut and headed up the embankment toward the highway. She made it halfway up the incline, then she felt her boots start to slide. She yelped, and fought for purchase, leaning down to brace her hands on the ground, but as she stood there, her feet slid all the way back down, she lost her grip and landed on her knees, and rode the muddy gravel all the way back down, landing with a sploosh in the muddy river that had trapped her car.

  Noelle looked up at the ten-foot embankment of mud and gravel, and suddenly, she started to laugh. Oh, God. This was too insane. Her first day of replenishing her soul, and she was trapped by a hill of shale and mud? Energy rushed through her, a fire that made her entire body feel stronger than it had in years.

  She backed up several steps, set her gaze on her goal, and then charged the hill. She made it halfway up again, and then her boots started to slide. She lunged forward, digging her hands into the mud as she fought to scramble up the side. She made it another few feet, sliding backwards almost as often as she made it forward.

  Her breath was heaving in her chest, and she fought harder, her feet sliding down almost as fast as she was able to take a step forward. Rain poured over her, running down her neck and under her coat, and mud coated her hands to her wrists. Her jeans were soaked, there was cold mud oozing over the top of her boots, and her hair was glued to her cheeks by the mud and the rain. She was filthy, soaked, exhausted, and hadn't felt so alive in years. Grinning even as her fingernails were scraped by the gravel, she fought against gravity. Inch by inch, she scrambled higher, until she was almost at the top...and then her feet started to go again.

  "Crap!" She lunged for the top of the embankment, and just missed it...and started to slide back down again–

  A strong hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, jerking her to a stop mid-slide.

  She looked up quickly to find a drenched, muddy cowboy in a long jacket, a dripping cowboy hat, and icy-blue eyes staring down at her, his fingers locked around her arm.

  Noelle froze, shocked by the sight of him, by the way her belly leapt, by the sudden heat rushing through her body. Dear God, he was straight out of her teenage fantasies. A hot cowboy coming to her rescue?

  No, not hot. Calling him hot was like kind of like calling a wild, fully grown male mountain lion a cute little kitten. It was a supreme injustice to both the lion and the kitten. The man before her was pure, rugged male...the kind of male that made her want to drop everything, sprint over to him, and surrender every aspect of herself to his raw masculinity.

  There was something about the way he was standing there with his duster flapping in the heavy wind, his legs braced against the weight of her body, while the rain dripped off his hat that was just so primal. Delicious. Surreal. Hot. Like he was made of testosterone, old West charm, and danger...with just a hint of cocky arrogance curving his mouth so seductively that a shiver went down her spine that had nothing to do with the fact she was soaking wet and closing in on hypothermia (yes, it was fifty degrees, but hypothermia wasn’t choosy, was it?)

  She couldn’t quite believe how good it felt to stare at a man and notice how wide his shoulders were beneath his black jacket, or the way his quads bulged beneath his jean-clad thighs as he braced himself, as if his body was made for a life of outdoor roughness. She took a deep breath, wishing that he was close enough for her to catch a scent of him, a heady masculine scent that would make her stomach curl and her belly flutter like it had back when she used to feel alive. But all she could smell was the damp earth, the fresh rain, and the murkiness of the swampy river she'd just waded through…which was just as well. One more assault to her senses would likely send her romantically barren soul into testosterone-induced shock.

  He lifted one eyebrow slowly, amusement flickering in his eyes, and suddenly, she realized she was gawking at him. Like, literally gawking. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she had nowhere to hide, nowhere else to look, not when it was his grip on her arm that was keeping her from tumbling back down the embankment to the muddy, bubbly water.

  "Ready?" His voice rolled through her. Deep. Masculine. Rich. Her stomach literally vibrated in response.

  "Ready? For what?" She had no idea what he was talking about. All she could think of was how kind and warm he sounded, a hint of gentleness in his voice that contrasted so sharply with the strapping strength of his frame, and the ease with which he was keeping her from sliding down the hill.

  The amusement in his eyes deepened. "For me to haul you up here so you don't slide down again. I can let you go, if you prefer."

  "Oh, right." She'd totally forgotten she was still standing at a forty-five-degree angle, several feet below him, on an embankment that was becoming increasingly unstable in the heavy rain. "Hauling me up would be fantastic, thanks."

  He flashed her a grin so devastatingly charming that she forgot to breathe, and then he stepped back, using his body to counterbalance her as she scrambled up the last few feet and over the edge. She landed in front of him, her boots thudding on the even ground...and she realized that he was even more solid and tall when she was on his level than he'd looked when he was above her.

  For a long moment, she didn't move, and neither did he. His hand was still locked around her arm, and she didn't pull away. They just stood there, the rain hammering down on them, sliding over her face, and down her neck.

  She was close enough now to see the heavy whiskers on his face, a beard that he didn't quite allow to grow in. His jaw was hard and strong. His face angular. And his eyes...she forgot about everything else but his eyes. They were deep, turbulent crystal blue that were so intense they literally took her breath away with the intensity burning with them. She knew then that he wasn't simply a sinfully hot cowboy. He was more, something infinitely more complex, burdened by a weight so raw that he made her heart speed up. This man was alive, fermenting with power and passion that made her heart clench.

  God, how long had it been since she'd felt alive like that?

  His gaze traveled over her, across her face, over her muddy, soaking body, moving with a languid interest that made heat burn in her belly. His gaze flicked to her car, angled down in the ditch, and then back to her. "City girl?"

  The way he said it didn't sound like an insult. It sounded like a seduction that made him promise to show her exactly how wild the cowboy life could be. She nodded. "Boston."

  "Boston." H
e repeated the word, rolling it ever so slightly with a cowboy twang that made her belly tighten. "So, you must be Noelle Wilder." His gaze settled on her face. "I've been expecting you."

  Like it? Get it now!

  Sneak Peek: Irresistibly Mine

  In this moment, Blue knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to help her. "Give me a chance to make it up to you, Chloe." The moment he said her name, Chloe's face softened, as if the sound of him saying her name had meant something to her.

  Still watching him, she put the phone back to her ear, resuming the conversation with her friend. "Hi, Emma. Blue said that he'll fix my car or drop me off, so I'm all set. But if he can't fix it, I'll need the name of a mechanic for the morning."

  Something inside Blue loosened when he heard her accept his offer, almost as if the chance to be with her for a little while longer made the tension inside him ease its relentless grip on his gut.

  She listened for a moment. "Okay. I'll stop at Wright's for some food on the way. See you soon. And… Emma? Thank you. I don't know what I would've done without you." Her voice choked up, and Blue looked at her sharply. Her eyes were shiny, and she was gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles were white. She cleared her throat, and nodded, clearly listening to something Emma was saying. "Right, I know. I'm fine. Really, I am. I'll see you soon. Bye."

  As she hung up the phone, she closed her eyes, bowed her head, and pressed her phone to her forehead. She took a deep breath, and then another, as if she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. Blue watched her, noting the paleness of her skin, and the way her shoulders were tucked up toward her ears ever so slightly, in the protective posture he'd seen many times when a newly rescued kidnap victim had hunched in the corner of the helicopter, unwilling to believe the nightmare was really over.

  Instinctively, Blue walked over to her and crouched in front of her. "Hey."

  She opened her eyes and quickly lowered the phone, sitting up straighter in a posture clearly designed to make sure no one knew the weight she was carrying inside. She met his gaze for a split second, then her attention dropped to the beer he was holding. "Is that for me?"

  Silently, he handed it to her, still watching her. "It'll be okay," he said. "Whatever the nightmare is, it can't get inside you unless you let it." Of course, he knew all too well about the damage nightmares could do, but just because he couldn't shield himself from his own baggage didn't mean he was unaware of how it could work if someone had their shit together better than he did.

  She narrowed her eyes. "It's that easy to let it go? Really? I had no idea." She sounded a little annoyed, as if insulted he would reduce all her problems to some philosophical resolution.

  He got that. He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Theoretically, yeah, it's that's simple. In reality, it can eat away at you until you're so dead on the inside that life stops mattering. Until all you can do is run as hard as you can, hoping that you can escape the darkness before it consumes you."

  She froze with the bottle of beer halfway to her lips, her eyes widening in surprise. Belatedly, he realized what he'd said and what he'd revealed about himself. Grimacing, he shrugged, and took a sip of his own beer. "Or so I've heard."

  Chloe angled the mouth of the bottle toward him as if pointing at him. "You, my friend, are a wealth of complexity, aren't you?"

  Blue grinned. "Nah. I drink beer. I shoot guns. And, after tonight, apparently I can add terrorizing women to my list. It's pretty simple and basic. I'm just your normal, upstanding boy-next-door kind of guy. I'm exactly the type that mothers fantasize that their daughters will fall for."

  Her gaze flicked to his cheek, and he suddenly remembered the scar that bisected the side of his face. He never thought about it much. Who the hell cared about a scar? But Chloe was soft, gentle, and sensitive. What would she think about a six-inch scar that belied every claim he'd just made? The thought made him tense, and he didn't like that. He didn't like worrying about his scar, or what someone would think about it.

  Scowling, he stood up and paced away from her. He leaned against the tiny kitchenette counter and folded his arms over his chest. "So, tell me, Chloe Dalton. Why were you barging into this cabin at ten o'clock at night in the first place?"

  She raised her eyebrows. "I felt as though my life was too tame and predictable. I thought that getting the living daylights scared out of me would make my day more interesting."

  He felt himself grin again, but he was learning not to be surprised by the fact she could coax a smile out of him. "Any other reasons?"

  She took a drink of her beer, wrinkling her nose as the bitterness drifted across her tongue. "First of all, you're kind of nosy. Second of all, the beer is kind of horrible."

  He grinned wider, amused by her inability to school her face into impassive, neutral expressions. "You know, the problem with trying to avoid questions with me, is that I'm an expert on not telling anyone anything that I don't want them to know, so I see right through that façade. So yeah, I'm nosy. Yeah, the beer sucks. But I still want to know what's going on that made you show up at this cabin and sprint into it without checking to see if anyone was here."

  She cocked her head, studying him. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. I just do."

  She smiled then, a gentle smile that made him want to grin. "Fair enough." Her gaze flicked away from him, drifting over the bare walls of the rustic cabin, before coming back to rest on his face. "In addition to losing my job yesterday, I also got evicted from the place I've been living in for the last ten years."

  Her voice was tight and calm, but he could instantly sense the depth of grief at her words, grief she was absolutely refusing to succumb to.

  Respect flooded him, but also empathy. She was tough, refusing to be broken, but something really shitty had crashed down upon her. "Sorry about that."

  "It's fine." She shrugged, tracing her fingers over the condensation on the bottle. "I was a little desperate, so Emma said I could stay here until I figure things out, because it was empty." She glanced at him, and cocked a sassy eyebrow at him. "She didn't realize, however, that Harlan had given you the keys. That phone call I just answered? That was Emma calling to warn me that you were already living here. Of course, being the intelligent woman that I am, I had already figured that out."

  "You were planning to stay here?" Guilt shot through Blue. There was no chance in hell he was stealing her safe house. He stood up. "No problem. It'll take me five minutes to pack, and the place is all yours." He set his beer on the counter of the kitchenette, and strode across the room to where his duffel was stashed. "I've already been here two days, and I told Harlan I wasn't staying any longer than that—"

  "Whoa." She stood up just as quickly, her hand going to his arm as he passed.

  He froze, his senses flashing to awareness at the feel of her touch. Her fingers were gentle, barely there, and yet he couldn't move away from her. He took a breath, and turned his head to look at her. "It's okay," he said softly. "The place is yours—"

  "No, I don't need it. Emma found another place, one that's in town, which I would prefer anyway." She rolled her eyes. "I was never a huge nature girl, but after tonight, I think I'd lie in bed all night waiting for the boogie man to get me if I stayed here. It's all good."

  "But you'll have to pay for that one, right?" He didn't move away from her touch, and she didn't take her hand away either.

  Her face softened. "It's very sweet of you to be concerned about that, but the answer is no, actually. You know how Harlan is a real estate agent in his spare time?" At his nod, she continued on. "He has a vacant listing that's for sale, but the owners said I could stay there for free while it's on the market. They figure it'll help sell if the windows are opened and the mustiness is aired out, so I'm good. That's where you're driving me tonight, unless you can work magic with my car."

  He grimaced. "I don't want to complicate things for you—"

  "It's not complicating anything,"
she interrupted. "Seriously, this works out better for me." She patted his arm. "But I appreciate your willingness to surrender the cabin to me." Her smile faded. "It's nice. Nice is good."

  He still didn't move. "I'm not nice."

  She raised her brows. "No?"

  "No." Her face was so close to his. Only inches away. Her mouth...it was insanely tempting. He imagined brushing a kiss over her forehead. Across her cheeks. Against the corner of her mouth.

  Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath. Suddenly, that same tension that had been strung so tight when they'd first walked in was back, only this time, it hummed with higher intensity, like the eerie silence when a night was too still, indicating that all hell was about to break loose.

  He brushed his fingers along her jaw, and she froze, not even breathing. "Would it be inappropriate to kiss you right now?"

  "Yes." She blurted out the answer before he'd finished asking the question. "Don't kiss me." But she didn't retreat, or even turn her head away from the brush of his fingers along her jaw. "Don't even think about it."

  He shrugged. "Can't help thinking about it."

  "Well, find a way." She swallowed hard.

  "Can't." Silently, he moved his hands so his fingers were resting on her throat. The frantic fluttering of her pulse was like a butterfly beneath his touch, delicate, untamed, and beautiful. "You could stay here instead of going into town tonight."

  Her eyes widened. "Stay here? With you?"

  "Yeah." He ran his fingers along her collarbone, tracing the delicate curve of her body.

  She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply at his touch, leaning into him ever so slightly. "Never."