Cowboy's Sweetheart (Sugar Coated Cowboys Book 3)

by Stephanie Berget

  Without a second thought he agreed. When had he become the good guy? In the four years he’d been at the ranch, he could count on one hand the social functions he’d attended.

  “So, you have a degree in business management?” She was determined if nothing else.

  Might as well get this out. Byron knew if he told her he didn’t want to talk about his past, she’d drop the subject, but he’d kept this bottled up inside for so long, it was freeing to tell someone. Besides, Vivi wasn’t staying. She’d soon forget all about him and his problems. “I didn’t graduate.”

  “Why?” Simple question. Not so simple answer.

  “Dad wanted a football star for a son. At the end of my junior year, my best friend was hurt during a scrimmage. When I tackled him, I broke his back.”

  “You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” Her eyes never wavered from his, and her concern covered him like a down blanket.

  “No!” The word came out sharper than he’d intended. He lowered his voice. “No, I didn’t, but if I could hurt him, I could hurt someone else.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I kept trying to tell the old man I didn’t want to play, but when the pro scouts started following me, he was relentless. The only reason he cared whether I flunked out or not, was whether I could continue to be a football star. He was embarrassing. Glad handing the alumni. Brown nosing the scouts.”

  She reached across the space between their horses and touched his arm. When he met her eyes, she pulled back her hand and waited.

  Byron thought back to those days. Quitting school was one of the hardest and easiest things he’d ever done. “So the middle of my senior year, I walked away.”

  “I would have never been strong enough to do that.” Her statement was made without the derision his family had voiced or the desperation of his coach.

  “Don’t know about strong. I quit.” The sound of the word his father had spit at him when he was leaving home still rang in his mind. “I quit and threw away a probable job in the NFL. My dad’s dream.”

  ~-~

  “But not yours.” Vivi could see the struggle in Byron’s expression. She wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been since he’d quit and disappointed his family, but Byron sure hadn’t come to terms with it yet. “You don’t owe your life to your father. If he wants to have an NFL, whatever that is, in his family, let him play.”

  Byron barked out a laugh. “My dad is five feet ten inches and weighs one hundred and eighty-five pounds. I get my size from my maternal grandfather.”

  “And he’d have to be as big as you to play this game?”

  “In a word, yes.” Byron stepped down from his horse. They’d reached the gate at the ranch and while he opened the gate, Vivi slowly dismounted. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll walk a while. Long ride.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “So your father wanted a football star and you wanted what?”

  He opened the gate and closed it after they’d passed through. They were about a half-mile from the barn so they walked side by side. “I wanted to be a cowboy. I’d always wanted to be a cowboy from the moment I spent the weekend on a friend’s ranch and rode my first horse.”

  Vivi watched him stroke the colt’s neck from ears to shoulders as he talked. She wanted to ask him to do that to her, but caught herself. They were talking about important things now and she needed to be an adult. But damn, watching the movement of Byron’s big hands sent chills down her spine and heated her belly.

  She brought herself back to the conversation. “Couldn’t you do both?”

  “Not according to my dad. He thought riding was a waste of time. Besides, I didn’t want to beat up guys on the football field any more. After a while it seemed counterproductive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you train a horse, you work toward making a better animal, responsive and kind. On the field, I just worked to hit the other guy harder and put him out of the game. Not productive.” He hesitated. “Dad didn’t see it that way.”

  They’d reached the barn and worked together to put the animals away.

  Vivi hung up the bridles while Byron put the saddles on the racks. She took a deep breath. She could either go to the ranch house for dinner like always or— If she left things up to Byron, they might be buddies forever. “What do you have in your fridge?”

  He looked up, confused. “What?”

  “I’m offering to cook you dinner.” She took his hand and pulled him toward his house. “That’s not entirely true. I can only cook a couple of things. If you have what I can cook, I’ll cook you dinner. So, what do you have in your fridge?”

  Byron strode toward his bungalow, now pulling her. “We’ll find something. What can you cook?”

  “I can microwave almost anything, and I’m good at cereal and sandwiches.”

  Working beside Byron in his miniscule kitchen, Vivi felt more at home than she ever had in Massachusetts surrounded by her family.

  It turned out the only thing he had that she could cook was salad. She set to work on making a masterpiece while Byron grilled steaks.

  As they enjoyed the meal, it was Byron’s turn to ask questions. “Do you feel like telling me what happened to your brother?”

  The bite of steak in her mouth suddenly lost its appeal. She forced herself to finish chewing and swallow. Draining the bottle of Coors, she tried to slow the rapid beating of her heart.

  “It was the beginning of our senior year of college. We were on our way to register. Mother and Father were with us, like always, because, I guess, Father couldn’t trust us to take suitable classes.” She stood and grabbed two more beers from the fridge then put one back. The Fireball incident was still clear in her mind, and despite being an easy drunk, she wasn’t stupid.

  “I think we’ve already concluded he was an asshole.” Byron waited until she nodded. “Please continue.”

  She handed him the beer. Picking up her fork, she stood beside the table, playing with what was left of the salad. “We’d registered, and were going out to dinner to celebrate. I’d dropped the folder containing my registration papers and stopped to pick them up when a young man drove up over the curb and hit them, all three of them.” She sat dry eyed as she remembered. During the last years, she’d cried all of her tears, but it didn’t stop the painful memories. “He’d been texting his girlfriend.”

  Byron took her hand and pulled her onto his lap. He was warm and solid and everything she needed at that moment. She needed a distraction, and Byron was the best one she could think of.

  As she put her hands on his cheeks, his stubble tickled her palms. Looking into his eyes, she tried to find pity, but it wasn’t there. Just concern. “Sebastian was killed instantly. Mother lived long enough for the paramedics to get her to the hospital.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He lived for another year in a wheel chair, demanding as ever.” She leaned in and kissed Byron. Just a brush of her lips over his, really, but the feeling shot through her to her core. She pulled back. “That was a good thing. If he’d died too, I’d have quit college. Instead, I took online courses while I took care of him.”

  Byron ran his hand through her hair, stroking her like the horse. “But the guy didn’t hit you, did he? You weren’t hurt?”

  “No, the car just missed me. If I hadn’t stopped…”

  “Thank God you did!” Byron stiffened and pulled her a little closer.

  “But if I hadn’t been looking down, maybe I could have grabbed Sebastian, pulled him back. I can’t forget the sight. He was so broken.” She laid her head on his shoulder and let a few tears fall. They weren’t all gone after all. “Maybe I could have saved him.”

  “This wasn’t your fault.”

  “The doctors said Sebastian didn’t feel a thing. They told me to be thankful for that. I didn’t feel very thankful.” She felt his strong arms wrap around her and pull her close. For her father, any type of emotion was a sign of weakness, and she craved Byron’
s touch. “When I went to visit Father in the hospital after the funeral, his first words were, “The time for crying is past. Get me a nurse.” Like losing Mother and Sebastian was some kind of inconvenience.

  Vivi brushed the tears off her cheeks then brushed her lips on Byron’s again. She was done telling the terrible story of her life, done living in the past. Finding her own kind of happiness, no matter for how long was her goal.

  But what did she do next? Her experience in seducing someone was limited. A slight smile curved her lips as they pressed against his. Her new life motto was when in doubt, jump in with both feet.

  As a scientist, she’d been good at research and reading, and during her quest for freedom and happiness, she’d read several romance novels. She decided to mimic the passionate kisses she’d read about. She needn’t have worried. When she pressed her lips against his, Byron took over.

  The rush of sensation threatened to overwhelm her, but she’d promised herself to never back away from a new experience again. Her heart raced, and a wonderful warmth spread down from her belly to her thighs.

  At the silky slide of his tongue against hers, she readjusted so she straddled his legs. O, holy cats!

  Byron put his hands under her butt and pulled her against him. The friction was doing amazing things to her body, and she strained to get closer. He stood and carried her to the bed, never breaking the kiss.

  The bed creaked as he laid her down then rolled so they were facing each other. One big rough finger ran down her cheek before moving along her neck. When his hand cupped her breast, he stopped. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky.

  She nodded. She hadn’t been sure about much in her life, but she was sure about this man.

  He rolled to his back and pulled her on top of him, returning to the kiss. When she pulled away breathless, she smiled at him. “You’ll have to tell me what to do, what you like.”

  Byron stiffened. “You have done this before, right?”

  Damn! She should have kept her mouth shut. Her inexperience was showing as if she’d posted in neon lights. She’d wanted to give him everything he wanted. Hadn’t wanted to make a mistake, and now he knew. “I have done this before.”

  Bryon sat up, shifting her to the side and tucking her under his arm. “But not a lot?”

  “No, not a lot.” Maybe he wasn’t totally repulsed by her lack of knowledge of sex.

  “I kind of need to know this stuff, Vivi. Have you had sex before?” He turned his intimidating stare on her.

  But he didn’t let go. And besides, she didn’t do intimidation any more. “I prefer to use the term making love.” She brushed her hair off her face and pasted a smile on her face. Fake it to make it.

  “Calling it sex or making love is not the point. Are you a virgin?”

  All her bravado deserted her like the fake emotion it was. “There was no chance of doing anything while my father was alive. Since then—I haven’t had the most rewarding experiences.”

  “Did someone hurt you?” Byron tilted her chin up so she had to look him in the eye.

  Vivi sighed. “No, no one hurt me. I was looking for emotion, a connection to someone. They weren’t.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I hadn’t found the right man. Until now.”

  Byron shifted on the bed.

  She tried to stand. He was going to reject her because she didn’t know what she was doing. The few times she attempted sex had been fast and unrewarding, at least for her.

  This becoming an experienced woman was harder to become than she’d thought.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Byron pulled her back onto his lap and gently laid her head onto his shoulder. Her silky hair spread across the front of his shirt and her sweet scent wafted up, surrounding him. “What am I going to do with you, Vivi?”

  “How about having sex with me? What’s wrong with that?”

  The chuckle started deep in his chest. The woman had balls, he had to give her that. “Tell you what. How about we make out? Take it one step at a time.” And he couldn’t believe what had just come out of his mouth. A willing woman in his lap, and he opted for kissing. Not that he didn’t like kissing, but the guys on the football team would have called him names for not pushing his advantage.

  She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “It’s not that I don’t like your kissing, but are you sure?”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sure it hurts.”

  He’d thought she was a free love hippy girl. Guess he got the free love part wrong, and for some perverse reason that made him happy.

  He smiled. “I do believe this is the first time I’ve discussed the terms of a make-out session. You are a unique woman, Vivi.”

  “That I am, and don’t you forget it.”

  “Vivi is an unusual name. Is it a nickname?”

  “What about the kissing? You said there’d be kissing.” She moved closer and began giving him light kisses, one after the other.

  Byron deepened the kisses until they were both out of breath. He smoothed her hair behind her ear. “You can’t kiss your way out of an answer. Nickname or not?”

  “You are a single-minded man, aren’t you?” She laid her chin on his chest and looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Viola Margaret Beckett. Sebastian and I were named for characters in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night.”

  “Viola is pretty. Did your family call you Vivi?”

  “Oh, heavens no! My father and mother would have had a fit if I’d gone by a nickname. Most of the time they called me Viola Margaret.” She stiffened, her head dropped against his chest and she sighed. “Vivi was Sebastian’s pet name for me.”

  “What was your secret name for him?” Byron traced circles on her back, hoping to calm her.

  “Ronnie.” When Byron raised his eyebrows in question, she continued. “His middle name was Ronald for Ronald Reagan, my father’s hero.”

  She made a visible little shake and straightened. “Can we stop with the questions? I want to get back to the kissing.”

  When her lips touched his, fire shot through his veins, and he instantly regretted his kissing-only rule. Her soft little kisses turned hot. His hand found its way to her breast, and she moaned. Her nipple hardened against his palm. He was going to have to be careful, or he’d lose control, and this woman didn’t deserve a quickie.

  Her lips still touched his lightly. “What’s wrong? Where did you go?”

  “Oh, I’m right here. Believe me. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” He grinned at the perplexed look on her face. “Just trying to maintain control.”

  The look changed to a smile. “You’re the first man who’s had that problem with me. Most don’t see me at all.”

  “As beautiful as you are, I can’t believe that.” He was having a hard time keeping his hands off her. He wanted to touch every square inch of her body.

  Her smile widened. “You think I’m pretty?”

  She had to know what a knock out she was, didn’t she? “I think you’re more than pretty.” This kissing only thing wasn’t working. If he didn’t get some distance, he’d throw her down on the bed and take her.

  Damned inconvenient conscience.

  “Since I’ve changed the way I dress, I’ve had some men make remarks, but it was obvious what they wanted.” Her serious expression made him laugh. She spoke her mind almost without a filter. There wasn’t an untruthful bone in her body.

  “Don’t’ kid yourself, Vivi. I want sex,” he said. If she could speak her mind, he’d do the same.

  “Yes, but I want you, too. That’s the difference.”

  Her simple words went straight to his heart. He slipped his hands beneath her shirt and slowly ran them up her ribcage. She raised her arms, and he pulled the silky garment off her shoulders.

  Her bra was as deep purple as the T-shirt, with lacy edges that framed her breasts. He spent a moment just staring. Was there anything that wasn’t perfect about her?

  He’d been caught up in the beautiful s
ight when Vivi leaned away and crossed her arms over the breasts, hiding them. The uncertainty he saw when he looked in her eyes stunned him. She dropped her gaze and tried to wiggle away. “I know they aren’t very big, and one is smaller than the other.” She sucked in a rapid breath and raised her gaze to him. “But they’re mine and if you don’t like them, I’ll just—I’ll just…” She glanced around and reached for her shirt.

  He put his fingers over the lips. “Stop. They’re perfect. You’re perfect. I was just looking.” At her tentative smile he slipped a bra strap off her shoulder then kissed the place it had been. “A man can look, right?”

  He ran his finger beneath the other strap, and in an instant her breasts were bare in front of him. He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to change her mind. When she didn’t move away, he pulled one nipple into his mouth and sucked softly. Her soft moan urged him on and he moved to the other breast.

  Vivi wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth up to hers. The tentative way her tongue slid against his shorted out his brain.

  He reached for her zipper and just as he slid it down, a soft knock sounded on the door. “Byron?” Willa’s high-pitched voice called through the door. “I need to talk to you.” The knock sounded again.

  Damn! He bolted upright and twisted so he could see the door. Of course he’d been too wrapped up in Vivi to remember to throw the lock. He couldn’t let Willa walk in and see her like this.

  Vivi had scrambled off the bed and sat on her knees, trying to pull on her T-shirt. “Darn! Heck! Poop!” Her words were spoken in a whisper, and she probably considered them swearing. He’d have laughed if this weren’t such a screwed up situation.

  The door rattled. “Byron. Dad says I can go riding with you if you say it’s okay.”

  He twisted the knob and opened the door just far enough to see the little girl’s face. “Hey, Willa. I’m a little busy right now. How about in an hour?”

  “Okay.” She smiled as her always-unruly hair floated in a halo around her head. He started to close the door when she put her hand against it. “Byron?”