A Cowboy's Pride

by Pamela Britton

  Trent. Oh, Trent. Don’t you know what you do to me?

  But she couldn’t say the words out loud, couldn’t do much more than groan as his tongue slipped between her lips, finding the heat in her mouth and igniting a different sort of heat between her thighs.

  He leaned into her. It took her a moment to realize that he was asking her to move. She scooted backward, toward her bed on the opposite wall. The back of her knees hit first. She sank down, stared up at him. This man, this amazing man, he’d gone through so much and yet had managed to come out on the other side. The similarities in their backgrounds was like a bonding agent. She understood him. Admired his fortitude. Couldn’t be happier for him. As he stood over her, he reminded her of the old Trent, the one she’d seen on TV, the man who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and that gave new meaning to the word try.

  She loved his try.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you look at me like that?”

  Yes. She experienced the same shivers of excitement when he stared down at her, too. Trent. Her rodeo star. Someone she shouldn’t be crossing the line with—patient and therapist—yet she found herself slowly stripping despite telling herself not to. He did the same, the dim glow coming from her bathroom shedding light into her bedroom. Her jeans came off next, then her bra and underwear. He had stripped down, too, though she couldn’t recall watching him do so. They were skin to skin so quickly it took her breath away.

  “Alana,” he sighed as they collapsed onto the bed.

  They kissed again, more harshly, more deeply than before, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth and causing her to groan because she wanted more. She wanted the heat. She wanted him.

  His mouth slipped away. He met her gaze, the intensity in his eyes causing her insides to spasm, but then he ducked to the side so he could kiss her neck. She shivered. He nipped her collarbone. She arched into him because she knew where he was headed, knew what he wanted to do. When his tongue found her breast she cried out in pleasure. His tongue flicked out. Her nipple contracted so quickly she moaned of pleasure all over again, the sight of him kissing her causing more spasms of delight to ripple through her body.

  Something brushed her center. His hand, she realized, as her legs fell open of their own accord. His fingers teased her with the same precision as his tongue and she knew, she just knew, she would climax soon. It was the forbidden fruit. A temptation to sin. The superstar she’d admired from afar. And she wanted him—bad.

  “Please,” she ordered, squirming beneath him.

  She felt him shift and he was there, right there, the tip of him poised over her center.

  He plunged.

  They both cried out.

  He took her this time, possessed her as only a man who wanted a woman badly could, his hips lifting and thrusting and causing such intense contractions of pleasure, such a perfect mix of lust and longing, that she wrapped her legs around his backside and demanded more.

  “Alana,” he cried before kissing her again, more harshly, more deeply than before.

  She lost her sense of self, her ability to think. They moved as one, his flesh melting into her flesh, his fingers twining together with her fingers, his heart matching the rhythm of her own.

  And then...and then...fire. And ice. And feelings so intense she cried out his name in surprise.

  He didn’t stop.

  He wouldn’t let her wallow. Oh, no, he kept teasing and thrusting and moving so that she climbed again, higher this time, her moans matching his moans until once again he brought her there, right there, and Alana fell off the cliff all over again.

  He collapsed. She held him. They were all sweat and tangled limbs and ragged breaths.

  “You amaze me,” she heard him say.

  He lifted his head at the same time his hands found her hair, brushing it back from her face, his pupils dark with spent passion. “I can’t imagine being apart from you.”

  He brushed more hair off her face while everything inside Alana stilled, but only for a second, because her pulse began racing all over again at the look upon his handsome face.

  Tenderness. Amazement. Joy.

  She started to cry because this was all wrong on so many levels.

  He pulled her to him tight, and he must have thought she cried out of happiness because he kissed the top of her head gently, tenderly, but that wasn’t why she cried at all. She cried because she knew, she just knew things could only end in heartache. In a little over a week he would leave, and he would expect her to go with him, or to follow him on the rodeo circuit, or to end up in Colorado, and that was a life she couldn’t face. Not again. Not when she’d worked so hard to remake her own life after Braden’s passing.

  “Let me stay with you tonight,” he asked.

  But what about for a night? One more evening. There was nothing wrong with that.

  He kissed her lips and she was lost. Again. Although maybe she wanted to be lost. Maybe she wanted to be selfish, to have him one last time, to imagine them together like this, here on the ranch...forever.

  She pulled her lips away. “Hold me.”

  “I will,” he said between kisses. “I’ll hold you all night.”

  And he did.

  * * *

  SHE’D SNUCK OUT of bed again.

  “Damn it,” Trent said, sitting up, only to gasp.

  Pain.

  It radiated down his legs. For a moment he forgot his irritation as he marveled at the myriad of sensations that flowed up and down his legs. Not just his thighs.

  His calves, too. Pain. Tenderness. Taut muscles. As if someone had flipped a switch the receptors in his brain had turned back on.

  “Holy—”

  He pulled the covers back to examine his legs. Scars still crisscrossed the surface, his calves were still much smaller than they had been, but when he reached out and ran a finger down his leg, he felt the tiny hairs that dotted his skin stir, goose bumps sprouting where his fingers had been.

  “Well, I’ll be...”

  Where was Alana?”

  He spotted the note then, off to his right, on a nightstand.

  Trent,

  I’m off to the airport to fetch some guests. I’ll be busy all day. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen. Enjoy.

  That was it. No Love, Alana. No I’ll miss you. No nothing.

  He told himself to settle down. After last night could there be any doubt that Alana cared for him? They’d spent hours in each other’s arms, and though they had done very little talking, who needed words for what they had?

  Through sheer force of will he grunted and groaned his way through finding his clothes, and then, using the walls and furniture, he slowly and painfully recovered his wheelchair. Thankfully, her place was handicap equipped, and a soak in the hot tub soothed him.

  He was just getting dressed when he heard someone call out, “Trent? You in there?”

  Saedra.

  “Come on in,” he said, snapping the last button on his shirt as he sat in his chair. “I’m in the back. In the bathroom.”

  She found him an instant later. “My, my, my,” she said, her eyes scanning him sitting in his chair, steam still wafting through the air. “You look like you’re right at home.”

  “Had to take a bath.” He shook his head ruefully. “I’m so sore I can barely move.”

  Saedra’s eyes widened. “Sore? As in you can feel things?”

  “All the way to my toes.”

  “Trent! That’s great.”

  “I know. I just wish Alana was here so I could tell her.”

  As if noticing her absence, Saedra looked around. “Where is she?”

  “Fetching guests from the airport.” He tucked the end of his shirt in his jeans, groaning.

  Saedra laugh
ed. “You need me to find some ibuprofen?”

  “I would love that.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He’d rolled his way into the family room by the time Saedra emerged from the kitchen, pill bottle in hand.

  “You’re in luck.” She shook the pills before opening the bottle and handing him two.

  “Thank You, God.”

  She settled herself onto Alana’s couch, glancing around as she did so. Trent did, too, even though it felt is if he rummaged through Alana’s underwear drawer just by being there, a stupid notion given the night they’d just spent together.

  “Nice place.” Saedra’s gaze hooked on a wall of photos opposite the couch. “Small, but quaint.”

  Trent followed the direction her head was turned. Amidst the twenty or so photos he spotted Cabe and Rana and Alana, some on horseback, some with guests, a few during the holidays. In the middle, however, was a photo that was larger than the others, of Alana laughing up at a man he recognized as Braden.

  “Who’s that?” Saedra walked up to the same photo he’d spotted. “Looks kind of familiar.”

  “That’s Cabe’s brother.”

  Saedra glanced over at Trent. “She used to date Cabe’s brother?”

  “No. She was all set to marry Cabe’s brother, although they weren’t officially engaged.”

  Her mouth dropped open next. “Wait, wait, wait. How’d I miss that?”

  Trent explained about Braden’s accident. And about Rana and how Cabe had lost his wife in the same accident.

  “Wow,” she said when he’d finished.

  “I guess it was pretty bad.”

  Saedra’s expression told him she figured it probably was.

  “Please tell me you’re not the first guy she’s been with since then.”

  “Pretty sure I am.”

  “Oh, jeez.”

  “What? There’s nothing bad about that.”

  “Are you kidding? A woman doesn’t just get over something like that.”

  “It’s been years.”

  “And she hasn’t dated anyone since. Does that not tell you something?”

  Put like that, he supposed she had a point.

  And that might explain her disappearing acts.

  “You think she’s not over him?”

  “I think there’s that possibility.”

  He swiped a hand over his face. “I asked if she’d move to Colorado for me.”

  Saedra flung herself back on the couch. “You did what?”

  “She said maybe.”

  “And you say she disappeared this morning because she’s picking up guests?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Let’s hope she’s telling the truth.”

  “You think she might be trying to avoid me?”

  After the night they’d just shared, he silently told himself, it seemed impossible.

  “I think you better slow it down, cowboy.” Concern shone from Saedra’s eyes. “I like Alana, I really do. I think she’s amazing, but both of you, you’re just getting over these horrible tragedies.”

  Not for the first time, he wondered if Saedra had been in love with Dustin, because her face changed, a sadness entering her eyes that seemed to be soul deep. Of course, Dustin had been her friend, too, and so it might just be that. Or not.

  “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

  He hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She wasn’t trying to avoid him, Alana told herself. She had work to do. Chauffeuring their new guests. Showing them to their cabin. Helping them to understand the layout of the ranch. She wasn’t trying to avoid Trent. Not at all.

  Liar!

  She couldn’t avoid him forever, though. Intuitively she knew that, just as intuitively she knew the end was near. Though they had spent the night together, she’d never broached the subject of their future. She’d been too scared to do that.

  “Where have you been?” he asked the moment she returned to her apartment.

  She strove for a breezy tone of voice when she said, “Oh, here and there,” and forced a smile to her face.

  She held his gaze, searching for something to fill the silence, but of course, what could she say? Thanks for the good time, but I really think we should stay away from each other from here on out?

  “You okay?” he asked after the silence stretched on.

  “Fine,” she lied. She glanced at his chair. “How are your legs this morning?”

  “Sore.” He rubbed the tops of them. He gave her a smile. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m feeling things in my calves today.”

  This time, her smile was genuine. “That’s great.”

  “I had to take some ibuprofen.”

  Under normal circumstances, she would have offered an hour-long massage, but he wasn’t a normal guest and the thought of touching him again... She went all red just thinking about it, and thinking about him, and what he’d done to her last night.

  “I had to take a bath.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Wish you’d been with me.”

  She looked up, down, around, anywhere but at him. What could she say? There was a part of her that wished she’d been with him, too. But the other part of her—the sane part—urged her to cool it.

  They lapsed into silence, Alana wondering how two people who’d done such amazing things with each other could suddenly run out of things to say.

  “Walk with me?” He motioned with his chin toward the road, past Cabe’s house.

  She shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t. Cabe had asked her to run to town for some supplies, and she’d promised Rana she’d help her dig out her summer clothes....

  “For a minute.”

  She didn’t offer to push him along, she knew better than that. He thrust himself toward the pathway that led toward the main road.

  “You know, twice now I’ve woken up without you by my side.”

  “I know, but both times I had to get up early and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Liar!

  She hadn’t wanted to face him. It was as if her courage deserted her the moment morning arrived. This morning she’d rolled over and spied him sleeping next to her and been choked by a sudden surge of fear. He was just so damn good-looking, more so in the morning when a day’s growth of beard darkened his chin and sleep relaxed the stress on his face. She’d watched his chest rise and fall, so tempted to run her fingers over his muscles that she’d had to get out of bed just to stop herself.

  “Why do I have the feeling that’s not entirely true?”

  Because you seem to know me so well, it’s frightening.

  While she struggled to find the words to placate him, she heard him say, “Saedra thinks we’re moving too fast.”

  She stopped, glanced down at him. They had just reached the top of the road, cows moaning in the distance. The sound of it should have soothed her, but she could tell her palms were sweaty and her heart beat too fast.

  “What do you think?”

  A cricket chirped nearby. Alana found the sound so wildly appropriate that she almost laughed, especially given that Trent didn’t answer, at least not at first.

  “I’d rather know what you think.”

  Coward. But, as usual, she spoke to herself.

  She took a deep breath, walking forward again, Trent alongside. The scent of dank earth and vegetation filled the air. Years ago, before Braden had died, he and Cabe had worked for weeks clearing the pasture to their right of too many trees, but they were slowly making a comeback, small pines stretching skyward, the scent of their needles filling the air.

  “I think maybe she has a point,” she said at last, relieved that he hadn’t pushed her
to answer, had merely waited, his gaze also scanning the scenery.

  “I want to keep seeing you.”

  Why did she suddenly feel like crying? “And I want to keep seeing you, too.”

  There. She’d said it. As hard as it was to admit, she had feelings for Trent. Feelings that scared the you-know-what out of her. Feelings that she hadn’t felt in, well, not since...

  She closed her eyes. Braden.

  Fingers brushed her own. She glanced down in time to see Trent clasp her hand. It made her insides do that weird thing again, caused her heart to go thump-thump.

  “Mac thinks I’m good enough to compete at the local level. He was wondering if it’d be okay if I used Baylor, and if we all could use him this weekend. Guess there’s a local roping event somewhere nearby.”

  “I think that’d be great.” The breath she released felt as if it’d been pent up for days. “I’ll have to check with Cabe, although I’m sure he won’t mind.” She swallowed, the sensation that she was on the edge of a cliff making her dizzy for a moment.

  He squeezed her hand again. “Thanks.”

  She gathered her courage, looked him in the eye, the softness in his gaze causing her to look away, as if she might cry or something.

  You could fall in love with this man.

  She took a deep breath, admitting that maybe she could, and that there was nothing wrong with that, right? He was a good soul. A bit damaged, but so was she.

  A man who lived in Colorado.

  She shushed the ever-present annoying voice of reason. Yes, they might have some issues to work through, but if it was meant to be...

  But later that night, as Trent slept beside her, she had the horrible sensation that she’d been kidding herself. That maybe this whole thing was just a diversion, a blip on the map of his recovery that he would later look back upon and regret. That she would regret.

  Quiet, she told herself.

  Time would tell which direction the wind blew. Until then she needed to stop with the doom and gloom.

  Didn’t she?

  * * *

  TRENT HAD LITTLE OPPORTUNITY to see Alana over the next three days. She was busy with new guests, the New Horizons Ranch seeming to come alive, all the cabins full by the end of the week. There were other new arrivals, too. Several locals who were employed by Cabe. The place became a hive of activity, and Trent had a whole new appreciation for what Cabe and Alana did on a regular basis.