“I know I do. You have a way of getting under my skin, too.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and stood, pulling her up with him. His hands slid up and down in an almost proprietary gesture. A slow smile spread. “Something smells good.”
His touch was sending sparks all through her system. If she didn’t step away, she was going to climb his leg like a cat in heat. Too bad she couldn’t force her legs to move—or her gaze. She couldn’t look away from those eyes that seemed to darken to midnight right in front of her. His Comanche heritage was quite evident in his coloring and sharp cheekbones. She recalled asking him ten years ago if he was American Indian. He’d been helping her with Zeus, her champion horse, at the time. His hair had been long, falling over his shoulders, and he was the most masculine male she’d ever encountered; much better than those pimply-faced pubescent boys in middle school.
He’d turned those same dark eyes on her that day and said he was Native. Then he gave her a short history lesson on the Comanche, who were renowned for their horsemanship. His equestrian skills were evident in the way he instructed her in handling Zeus. He had a non-verbal communication with animals that often included tongue clicks, low moans and growls.
The heat of a blush spread across her cheeks as she also recalled how she’d wished she were a horse to feel his wide palms stroking her the way he did Zeus, or to hear his low moans and growls as he… Dear God, make me stop fantasizing about him.
“Lacy?”
He’d whispered her name, and her gaze flew from his full lips to those dark chocolate eyes.
One dark eyebrow rose. “What are you thinking that has you blushing like this?”
True to her fantasy, his wide palm slowly and lightly swept up her back. She gave an involuntary shudder, and her eyes drifted shut. If she didn’t soon move away from him, she might as well openly declare her desires. Then she’d never be able to face him again.
Lacy turned to throw away the soiled paper towels and scrub her hands.
He followed her to the sink. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you thinking?”
Oh, cowboy, you don’t even want to know. She measured beans into the coffee grinder for something to do with her hands when she would rather run them up his shirt to feel his muscles.
“I, uh, was recalling the things you taught me one day, years and years ago.” She depressed the button on the grinder; its whirling noise filled the kitchen for a minute.
When it finished, he tilted his head to the side. “Like what?”
“Things about the Comanche and their love for pinto horses. No doubt you’ve forgotten that conversation.” She dumped the fragrant, freshly ground coffee into the filter and then filled the reservoir with water before turning the coffee maker on. All normal, routine movements intent on disguising the irregular beating of her heart and trembling of her insides. Why did he have to stand so close?
“I do remember. I told you how special your horse was since it was the particular type of pinto developed by the Comanche. We called it Medicine Hat or War Bonnet because of the markings over its body.”
She leaned a hip against the counter, smiling at the memory. “You said a special mystique surrounded a horse marked in that way. How a Comanche warrior believed himself invincible if he rode such a horse into battle. I took what you said to heart and rode into each barrel-racing competition believing my pinto and I were unbeatable.”
He reached out and fingered one of her curls. His simple action sent desire galloping through her once more.
“And you were unbeatable, if I recall.”
“Lacy, ain’t you got breakfast on the table yet, girl?”
Tyler’s hand dropped as Grandpa and Pete stepped into the kitchen. Carlos, their ranch foreman followed them.
“We got hungry men here with a full day of work ahead of ’em.”
Another blush slapped her cheeks. She really had to stop mooning over Tyler Desmond and all the memories she had of him. “You men wash up and have a seat. I’ll pour your coffee as soon as it’s ready.”
Within minutes, she had platters of French toast, scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. She set a pitcher of maple syrup in front of Tyler. “Your warm syrup as promised.”
“Thank you.”
His hand covered hers for a second until she pulled away. While the men dug into breakfast, she stepped around the table, topping off coffee cups.
Grandpa held his mug out for her to refill. “Tyler, you doin’ any bull riding?”
The very macho object of her rattled nerves nodded as he poured syrup over a mound of French toast. “Competing in the rodeo at Lubbock next weekend. Probably be one of my last times on a bull.”
Pete laughed and slid his mug to the side for Lacy to top off. “He’s getting too old.”
“That I am.”
Carlos chuckled and jerked his chin toward Frank. “Pete, hope your boss mellows more with age than mine did.”
“Kiss my grey-haired ass.”
“Grandpa! Mind your manners. Carlos, more coffee?”
“Si, Miss Lacy.” He extended his mug for her to fill.
She stepped around the table to Tyler, who picked up his mug, too.
Grandpa pointed his fork at Tyler. “Seems to me, it’s time you stayed off the bulls and found a good woman to add some excitement to your life.”
Lacy closed her eyes. Grandpa, no. How obvious can you be? She wanted to disappear.
“Ow!”
Her eyes snapped open to find Tyler jerking his hand back from under the stream of coffee.
“Oh, damn!” She set the pot down, her gaze searching for a napkin.
Seeing one on Tyler’s lap, she grabbed for it. Her fingers curled around something in haste, and he groaned.
Lacy’s gaze locked on his startled, if not bemused expression. “Please tell me I didn’t just…”
A slow, badass smile spread. “Best damn thrill I’ve had in years.”
Grandpa leaned forward. “What’d you say, Tyler?”
He coughed and shook his burnt hand. “I said the pain’s about to bring me to tears.”
“Does it burn? I’ll get you some first aid cream.” She pursed her lips, her heart racing and her fingertips tingling from what they’d touched. Tyler Desmond’s here in my kitchen with half a hard-on, and I just curled my fingers around it. Oh my God, brings new meaning to French toast.
As if he could read her thoughts, Tyler cleared his throat, snapping her back to the here and now.
“Grandma always used butter, but they say that’s not the right thing to use. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll go see if we’ve got some burn ointment.”
“For God’s sake, girl, it’s just a little coffee. He’s probably gotten harsher rope burns while bull ridin’. Stop yer prattlin’ and settle.”
She glanced at the scalded red spot across Tyler’s hand, and her stomach twisted with guilt. “No, he needs something on it.” She hurried out of the kitchen.
When Tyler found her a couple minutes later, she was standing at the vanity in the bathroom, holding a tube of Neosporin and crying. Oh, crap, more embarrassment.
“Hey.” He turned her and enveloped her in his arms. “What’s all this about? Don’t cry.”
She pulled back and gazed at him. “I…I’m sorry I hurt you. I wanted this morning to be perfect.”
“Ain’t nothing perfect. Take us, for instance. Since you stepped back into my life, I’ve been stabbed with a dart, pole-axed by a kiss, peed on and burnt.”
“I don’t know why I’m like this around you. I don’t like it one bit.”
“I’m not overly fond of it either.” He took the tube from her hand and removed the cap. “When my ex-wife left me, I swore I was through with women. Nothing but pain comes from them.” He rubbed ointment over his burn as he talked. “Pain and a quick grope under the table.” He smirked when he handed her back the Neosporin.
“Now, that was a mistake, just like all the other things that’s happene
d.”
His eyes twinkled, and he chuckled. “You’re like a walking blonde catastrophe. I figure you owe me.”
“What? What do I owe you?”
He took her chin between his thumb and fingers and drew her face closer. “A kiss. One that will right my world again, ’cause it’s been out of kilter since the first one at the Lonesome Steer. I’m beginning to think that dart had some kind of poison on it to put me under your spell.”
“That’s nonsense.”
His gentle kisses over her eyes and cheeks erased her tears.
“No more crying, only smiles. You’ve got a smile that warms my heart.”
“I do?” No one had ever told her that before.
Large hands settled at her waist, and little by little he inclined his head to hers, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh, yeah.” Then his lips made contact and nuked every cell of her being.
Oh. My. God.
Tyler sucked on her bottom lip, and someone in the tiny bathroom moaned. Since his lips were too busy doing things to her mouth, she suspected the moaner was her. When he angled his head to take the kiss deeper, and his tongue stroked along the inside of her bottom lip, her knees went weak. Her hands made a slow journey over his muscled chest just as they’d itched to do since he stepped into her kitchen.
He groaned and backed her against the vanity.
Lips fused.
Breaths mingled.
Tongues stroked and seduced.
Spirits communicated.
And still the kiss continued.
I’ll never be the same again. Not after this.
His hands slipped under her T-shirt and forged a trail up her sides. When they covered her breasts, her nipples peaked in welcome. Tyler murmured her name against her lips in response. With a shudder, as if he were trying to regain control, he pulled back, his eyes hooded with desire.
She wasn’t sure why she was aggravated, but she was. Or maybe it was fear she felt. Fear that this would all be over before it had a chance to start.
What exactly was the “it” she hoped for? An affair? A short-term romance? Something permanent? She hadn’t a clue.
“I hope the kiss achieved what you wanted.” She straightened the hem of her T-shirt. “That it righted your world again.” It had certainly upended hers, and she wasn’t sure if she was pleased or provoked.
He ran fingertips down her cheek and studied her with those deep, chocolate eyes of his. His expression was solemn, as if he were solving some serious problem. “No, not by a long shot.”
Then he turned and strode out of the bathroom.
The kiss carried Lacy through the breakfast dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Too many times, she caught herself staring off, motionless, remembering the strength of his arms and his deep male groans proclaiming he was just as turned on as she. Imagine. She and her teenaged fantasy in a major lip-lock in her bathroom. Thank God she hadn’t said anything stupid. Or had she? Goodness, the man had her mind so muddled, she didn’t know what she was saying half the time.
Once the kitchen gleamed again, she headed for the corral. One of the trucks had been backed to the loading chute. Carlos, Pete and Tyler rode ahead, their mounts loping across the fields toward the hundred head she helped cut from the main herd yesterday. Grandpa motioned to Zeus, saddled and ready, before he heeled his mount to catch up with the other men.
Her pinto whinnied a welcome, pawing the ground at her approach. “I’m coming handsome.” She fished a cube of sugar from her pocket and extended her hand for him to gently take it. In typical fashion, Zues nuzzled her as she patted his neck.
“Did you see Tyler? Remember how he used to spoil you?” The pinto nodded and blew through his nose. She stroked his forehead and face. “The man makes me act like a simpleton. I do the dumbest things around him.” Lacy fed him another sugar cube and then slipped into the saddle in one fluid motion. “We’re going to catch up to Tyler and the others. What I need you to do is keep me far away from him. We’ll stay on the opposite side of the herd, okay?”
She tugged the brim of her straw hat and clicked her tongue. Zeus headed across the pasture, picking up speed as if he were determined to beat the other riders to the cattle.
Chapter Six
Damn, she’s a sight on her horse.
Tyler reined in Geronimo when he heard Zeus’s pounding hoof beats. Lacy was leaning over the pinto’s neck, her pleasure obvious by her expression. Her horse took the side of the bawling cattle opposite him. Just like he, she held a coiled loop of rope in her hand, ready to make short work of the loading process.
She’d grown into a real beauty, Lacy had. Granted, she wasn’t fashion industry thin. No, Lacy had curves a man’s hands itched to touch. He glanced away, squinted into the morning sunlight and smiled. Lord, she had an amusing way about her. Bungling, yet caring. Talkative, yet charming. A man would never be bored with her, that’s for sure. And if her kisses were any indication, her passion would warm his nights. He shifted in the saddle to accommodate his physical reaction to that thought.
Kissing her earlier had been like manna to a dying man. How long had it been since he’d been that turned on by a woman? Fact was, he’d been a few heartbeats away from lifting her onto the vanity, stepping between her thighs and taking her hard and fast.
His gaze swept from the cattle to the blonde on the pinto. What a waste that would have been. Lacy was a woman a man needed to love slowly, enjoying every sigh, every tremble, every moan he could extract from her.
Just the thought of having her in his bed hardened him to the point of physical pain. He’d do well to keep his thoughts and his libido on the task at hand.
The morning was an enjoyable one. Everyone worked well together and soon both trailers on the trucks were full of his new stock of cattle; one hundred cows and a bull old Frank threw in out of the goodness of his heart, or so he claimed. Still, he had to admit the best part of his morning was watching Lacy on her horse. She rode with an easy grace, in tune with her mount’s every movement.
Tyler pushed the handle for the hydraulics to close the loading ramp and back door on the rented trailer.
Frank removed his hat and wiped the sweat off his bald head with a handkerchief. “Looks like that finalizes our business. You need more quality cattle, you know where to come.”
Tyler stepped to the cab of the truck, his hand on the door handle and his gaze ricocheting from Lacy to her grandpa. “That I do, Frank.” He extended his hand. “You’re always a good man to do business with.”
When they shook hands, Frank jerked his chin in the direction of his granddaughter who was removing saddles from the horses. “She’s a good girl. Normally she’s pretty quiet, but something about you makes her jumpy like a mare when a strong stallion comes around.” Frank pursed his lips, a movement Tyler now associated with Lacy. “Was thinking maybe the two of us would come to the rodeo next week, watch you ride, catch up on the news with neighbors.”
He nodded and crossed his arms, allowing the thought of riding a bull in front of Lacy to take hold. “Be glad to see you there, Frank.” You and that pretty granddaughter of yours.
Frank studied Tyler for several beats. “Yup, believe you’ll do.”
Having said his peace, or so it seemed, the old man ambled off to the stables.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down Tyler’s back. He narrowed his eyes on Lacy and watched her take a brush to her pinto. She was singing to the horse, and the animal nodded his head in response. Before Tyler knew it, he was smiling. Hell, he’d smiled more since he’d been pierced in the neck with that damn dart than he had for three years, maybe more. He removed his hat and slapped it against his leg. Well, why the hell not.
He settled his hat low over his eyes so she couldn’t see the apprehension in them and sauntered to where she worked. “Lacy?”
She whirled around, nervousness in her expression. “Yes?”
“I wanted to thank you for breakfast. You were right. That was some of the bes
t French toast I’ve ever tasted.” He smiled and glanced down at his feet, hoping he didn’t look like what he truly was—a man out of practice conversing with an attractive woman. Another bead of sweat jogged down his back. “The warm syrup was a nice touch, too.” He cleared his throat and fought to ignore those turquoise eyes of hers. “That was mighty nice of you to invite me and Pete. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”
One of her sunshine smiles spread. “I…I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She pursed her lips, and he waited. “It was meant as an apology breakfast. Now, after Honeybun piddled on your boots and I scalded your hand with coffee, looks like I’ll never get caught up in the apology department.” She tilted her head and studied him. “But are apologies required between friends, I wonder? We are friends, aren’t we, Tyler?”
Eyes prettier than a field of Texas blue bonnets regarded him.
“Yeah, we’re friends. I was hoping you’d come to the rodeo next weekend and be one of my good luck charms.”
“Oh?” Her hand fluttered to her throat.
He brushed a curl from her face. “Usually Olivia, my daughter, brings me luck, but since I haven’t ridden in a while, I figure I could use a double dose.”
“Given our history, are you sure you want me for a good luck charm? I haven’t exactly brought you good luck so far.” She patted the horse on the neck, then turned her eyes on him again. “I’m more like the ‘break a leg’ kinda charm. What if my being there jinxes you? I’m carrying around enough guilt for everything that’s happened to you so far. If you did poorly on your ride or got hurt, I don’t think I could take it.”
Was she blowing him off? When she said she wanted him for a friend maybe that was her way of saying she didn’t want anything more serious. Well, he’d not beg.
He tugged on the brim of his hat. “Suit yourself then.” He turned and dragged his wounded pride to his truck. The confined cattle were bawling. He needed to stop making a fool of himself and get on the road so he could return to the Star-D with these cows.
“Tyler?”
A hand clasped around his arm, and he turned.
“If you truly want me to come, I’ll be there. Just don’t hold me responsible for anything that happens.” She chewed at her bottom lip. “Me being a jinx and all.”
Honky Tonk Hearts Volume 2 Page 27
