Cowboy 12 Pack

by Cynthia D’Alba, Paige Tyler, Elle James, Donna Michaels, Shoshanna Evers, Randi Alexander, Cora Seton, Beth Williamson, Sabrina York, Sable Hunter, Lexi Post, Becky McGraw

  Allie shook her head and smiled. “If I’m enjoying it, then you’re not really taking advantage.”

  The conversation stilled. The only sounds were of the horses shuffling below, and of their own breathing.

  Bill brought his hand to her belly, and slowly moved up over her shirt to her waist, his hands roving gently as they sat there. Down her arms, and up to her breasts, drawing a lazy circle around her nipple through her shirt.

  Yes.

  “I ain’t married,” Bill said softly. “Not anymore. And I don’t have a kid to pass Melody Ranch on to. There’s no reason for me to stay on at the ranch.”

  Allie nodded, hearing him, but also feeling him, the slow, steady pressure of his wandering hands as he spoke. He touched her thigh, caressing it, up through to her inner thigh.

  She inhaled, thrilled—and a bit surprised—by the intimacy. It was something that was meant to happen, she knew. Every interaction they’d had, had led up to this very point in time.

  Bill smiled at her reaction. “Besides, if I’m workin’ at the bar with you—that’s the family business too. At least now I’m actually doin’ something with it.”

  He brought his hand all the way up to the junction of her thighs, over her jeans, and held her there. His hard palm against her most sensitive areas made her dizzy with need.

  “I haven’t been this excited about someone—I mean, something… in a long time. Gettin’ the bar open again,” he said, playing with her, maneuvering his hands ever so carefully over her body. “It’s gonna be big.”

  Allie looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes. “You didn’t carry me up here to actually show me the hayloft.”

  “No,” Bill said. He took his hat off, and covered her with his body, his weight like a warm blanket on top of her. “I didn’t bring you up here jus’ to show you the hay.”

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  EVERY REASON WHY they shouldn’t be doing this flashed through Allie’s mind simultaneously. Bill was going to be her business partner, and mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. She still had a broken heart from losing her husband. It had been a year, but Bill would be the very first man that she’d been with sexually since the annulment.

  She was afraid of getting her heart broken again. He probably didn’t even know how much power he had. He could crush her heart if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t leave up some sort of wall.

  Those hands, that mouth of his, on her neck… He brushed his lips down her cleavage, pulling her shirt down to kiss the tops of her breasts. The stubble on his jaw scratched at her sensitive skin, and she relished every sensation.

  “I want to,” she whispered.

  Bill stopped unzipping her pants, frozen. “…but?”

  “No ‘but’. Just… I want to.”

  He growled with passion, and kissed her on the mouth, sliding her jeans down her thighs. She kicked off her boots and he pulled her jeans off, leaving her feeling deliciously exposed. The hay scratched at her bare thighs beneath her.

  “You are beautiful,” Bill said.

  He kicked his boots off to, and his jeans. His heavy belt buckle fell to the floor of the hayloft. The expected thud was dampened by the layer of hay. He stood above her, his length rigid in his boxer briefs, showing in stark relief against the thin gray cotton material.

  “You are beautiful, too,” Allie said. It was the truth.

  He pulled his T-shirt up over his head and threw it on the ground. He had several tattoos that she hadn’t seen with his shirt on. One wound across his upper arm, another along his side. They made him look even stronger somehow, sexy.

  Her stomach fluttered with excitement. This is happening. For the first time in a very long time, she was ready to experience sex with someone other than her ex.

  The desire in his eyes heated her very soul. She pulled her own shirt off, and laid it behind her so she’d have something soft against her skin.

  “Aw,” Bill said, “sorry ’bout that.” H picked up his own shirt and leaned down, tucking it beneath her bottom and legs. “Better?”

  Allie smiled. “You’re sweet.”

  He laid himself over her body, keeping the full weight of him off of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck the same way she had when he’d carried her up the ladder.

  As frightened as she’d been at the idea of climbing that ladder, she’d known she could trust him with her physical safety. She could trust him to take care of her. Bill had earned that. It was a good feeling to have.

  The testosterone seemed to come off him in waves, making her feel primal, instinctively attracted. He pulled her panties down with one hand, and kissed down her neck to her belly, down to her wetness, where he pushed her inner thighs open with his broad shoulders and strong hands, and kissed her tender bud.

  Allie cried out in ecstasy as Bill took her to levels of pleasure she’d never experienced before, not with her ex, not even with herself.

  “You taste so good,” he said murmured, and kissed her there again. “I need to be in you.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”

  He reached behind him for his jeans, and pulled the packet from them. Quickly, he sheathed himself in latex and paused before he entered her.

  “I don’t know what doin’ this means,” Bill said. “I don’t want to lead you on.”

  “After my last relationship,” she said, “I have good reason not to make the same mistake again. Just stay honest with me.”

  Bill nodded, looking as if every ounce of energy he had was going toward keeping himself from thrusting into her until they had this important talk.

  “Same,” he said, his voice raw. “’Long as we’re on the same page.”

  “We are.”

  Allie reached out and wrapped her legs around his, and drew him into her. He groaned with desire, and held onto her tightly as they rocked together, moving as one.

  His hair fell across his face, and Allie smoothed it back, kissing his forehead, kissing his stubbled cheeks, his lips, and as he rose up on his knees to move into her more deeply, she pressed kisses along his chest.

  His muscles flexed and strained as he moved within her. He was so big, so thick, he was hitting a spot inside of her that had never been stimulated before… She felt like she could melt right there in his arms, and then—the melting sensation transformed, as if she might explode with pleasure. Everything was—tight, tight—and he moved quickly, pounding into her now, his thrusts getting faster and faster until her orgasm peaked, cracking her open with bliss and showering her nerves with intense sensation.

  She cried out as her orgasm hit hard, the aftershocks shaking her core, and she clung on, riding out with him the final few thrusts before he furrowed his brow, groaning.

  “Allie,” he said, his face right next to her ear as he finally let go, his climax bringing on another aftershock of her orgasm.

  They didn’t move, holding each other tight.

  Allie’s body trembled. “That was incredible.”

  Bill collapsed on top of her, breathing hard. “Hell yeah.” He paused. “It doesn’t feel wrong, does it?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “This is the first time sex doesn’t feel like I’m… betrayin’ her.”

  “You’re my first, too.” The first man other than her husband she’d slept with since he’d left her. And no, it’s didn’t feel like a betrayal. It felt…right.

  Allie ran her fingers down his back, letting his sweat wet the tips. Their breath began slowing, together, and their hearts slowed their frenetic beats, until they beat as one.

  Please, Bill… Don’t make me fall in love with you.

  I can’t go through it again.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  “HEY, GINGER!” ALLIE called as she entered Ginger’s General Store, the bell on the doorframe jingling. The homey scent of candles and pies greeted her.

  “Oh good! I need more flyers,” the woman said, wiping her hands
on the lower half of her shirt as she came out from behind the register. “I been puttin’ one in almost every bag when folks come in!”

  “Wow,” Allie said. “That’s awesome. Thank you so much for supporting me…us. The bar.”

  “All of you,” Ginger agreed, nodding. “I’m just happy to have a place to let my hair down right here in town! No more drivin’ an hour each way. I can’t stand driving in the city, it’s awful.”

  Allie laughed. “Then you won’t want to move to Miami,” she suggested.

  The new stack of flyers for the grand opening party of Uncle Freddy’s Bar had events listed on it (Bingo night!), and even a black and white photo of herself. That had been Bill’s idea, so that when folks saw her they’d know who she was.

  “I’d melt in Florida,” Ginger said. “Have you found live music yet?”

  “No,” Allie said. “Why? Do you know someone?”

  “No,” she laughed, as if the idea of her knowing a musician was preposterous. “But everything else lookin’ ready to start, for the date on the flyer?”

  “We’re working on it,” Allie said. “I mean…the bar will be ready. If I have to go without sleep from now until the grand opening, the bar will be ready.”

  “That’s the spirit! So have ya had to call in the boys on the ranch for backup from Big Bad Bill yet?”

  “Nope.” Allie grinned and shook her head. “Thanks for handing out the flyers, Ginger. You rock.”

  As Allie left the store, the bell on the top of the door frame ringing to announce her exit, Ginger called, “Keep your chin up and don’t let him scare ya!”

  Right. She wouldn’t let Big Bad Bill—or the tenuous thread their relationship balanced on—scare her.

  Chin up.

  *

  RENOVATIONS AT THE bar were going well. The afternoon sun filtered through the new windows along the wall, and Allie squinted, trying to reduce the glare. Maybe some blinds were in order? Bill had already laid about half of the dance floor, and it was looking really good.

  Allie had painted two of the walls green, to complement the evergreens outside. Paint roller in hand, she stared at the area behind the bar. Should that be green too? Or did she need an accent color?

  “What do you think, Bill?” she called.

  Bill glanced up from laying the dance floor with a sigh and looked at her quizzically. He acted like she’d been asking his advice on everything… oh, wait. She had been. Why not? That big, bad cowboy had more of a knack for interior design than he gave himself credit for.

  “Should we do a different color for the behind the bar?” Allie pressed. “Some sort of bold accent color?”

  “I dunno. You can figure it out.” He paused, cocking his head as he observed the room. “Mix it up.”

  “Definitely.”

  She wouldn’t point out that he had just spoken more words to her than he had all day combined. Way to make a woman feel awkward after sleeping with her, dude, she mentally scolded him. But not out loud. Bill would come around.

  Red would look too Christmas-y with the green. Besides, she didn’t want to give the place a fast-food or bordello feel. And the color couldn’t be too girly… or could it? Would guys come to drink in a pink bar? Allie laughed to herself at the mental image of a crew of tough cowboys sitting around a bubble-gum pink bar. Nice.

  Wait a minute…

  “Dark blue!” she exclaimed. “And I’ll string little pinpoint lights all over it. It will look like a starry night!”

  From the corner of the bar, Bill hammered in the final nail on the dance floor, set down his tools, and brushed his hands off on his jeans. He walked over and stood next to her, his arms crossed against his chest, and stared at the wall with renewed appreciation.

  “Never would’ve thought of that,” he said. “But I like it.”

  “Thanks,” Allie said. She had to run to the paint store now.

  As she turned to go, Bill grabbed her wrist. She gasped and stopped in her tracks.

  “Wait,” he said, holding her in place to keep her from leaving.

  Allie looked at him warily. “Okay…I’m waiting.”

  “I ignored you this mornin’ back at the house. Wasn’t intentional… I just didn’t know what to say.”

  “‘Good morning’ would have been appropriate,” she suggested. She smiled to soften her words. “Look, I get it. You don’t want to make this into a ‘thing’. Neither do I. I’ll probably be single for the rest of my life, if I’ve learned anything after my shamble of a marriage.”

  Bill shook his head and pulled her in close to him, so close that their lips were mere centimeters apart.

  “I don’t know what to say around you,” he admitted, “and I’m scared as hell to start somethin’ new, too.”

  “Then what are we doing here?” Allie asked.

  She winced at how harsh the words came out. The last thing she wanted to do was push him away. And yet, keeping a protective wall between them seemed like the easy way out. It was so natural, so instinctive to keep him at arms’ length. His painfully clear unease with their growing feelings made is so easy for her to keep that distance, too.

  But she wanted to kiss him. Even more, she wanted him to want her, not just as a business partner, or as an occasional lover, but as… what? A girlfriend? Wife?

  Why? Where would that even lead? It was the wrong road to go down. Allie had already been down that road once before, and look how that had turned out. She’d given her entire life to a man and promised him “till death do us part”—but her ex couldn’t even keep his vows for a few months.

  Would Bill be any different?

  Maybe it was her own fault. The one common denominator in any relationship she’d ever had, obviously, was herself. If none of her relationships lasted, including the one where she actually got married—and then that didn’t last either—why would it ever be different with Bill Edwards?

  “We should keep things professional,” Allie said. “Because if we keep this up, if we keep having sex, one of us is going to get attached, and it’ll probably be me. I can’t afford to have my heart stomped on again. And I sure as hell refuse to ruin my new business because of a man.”

  Bill jerked back as if she’d slapped him, his expression pained.

  “‘Suppose you’re right,” he said. He dropped her wrist. “I can’t stop thinkin’ ’bout you, thinkin’ ’bout the hayloft, too. But, if I keep thinkin’ like that…”

  “What?” she asked, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest. “If you keep thinking of me like that, then what?”

  “Damn it, Allie,” he said. “Don’t push me.”

  She waited. She wouldn’t let him bait her into a fight just to distract from an important conversation.

  “I have feelings, too,” he said quietly. “You’re not the only one who could get all attached if we keep on like this.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m still broke in half from Melody dyin’.”

  He left her standing there, and walked back over to the dance floor, picking up a two-by-four on his way.

  “If I fell in love with you—hell, if I lost you too…” Bill wasn’t looking at her anymore, instead staring intently on the partially-constructed platform in front of him. “There would be nothin’ of me left.”

  He said the last words so softly, she almost wasn’t sure if she’d heard them correctly or not. The sorrow in his voice…she’d never want to be the cause of that pain.

  “I’m going to go out and buy blue paint and some little white lights,” Allie said tonelessly. What else could she say? No one could bear the burden of being the woman who’d completely broken a strong man, who’d killed his very spirit.

  It wouldn’t be her. Not today, not ever. Bill was better off without her, he’d said as much, and knowing him—knowing how deeply, how passionately he could feel—she believed him.

  She tried to force every warm thought about Bill Edwards out her mind, so she could focus on work. Focus on the reno
vation.

  Bill was just her business partner, and it was better that way.

  “Don’t forget to look at the measurements I drew up for that platform stage,” Allie added, and shut the door behind her.

  She hadn’t meant for it to slam. But it did.

  *

  THE STEAM FROM Allie’s shower fogged up the large mirror in Bill’s bathroom. She ran the water cold, and grabbed her purple toothbrush, pausing for only a moment when she grazed against Bill’s green one. How perfect their toothbrushes looked together in the holder. Like they were meant to be, their handles touching as if they were as drawn to each other as much as their owners were.

  It had been nine days since renovations had begun, and amazingly, things were already taking shape. The dance floor was in, the little stage, the new paint and lights and booths along the walls, and the tables and chairs left over from Uncle Fred had been re-varnished in black for a sleek look. All she needed now was to restock the bar with alcohol, and get some beers on tap.

  Allie finished brushing her teeth, and stared at herself in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes displayed her exhaustion to anyone who saw her.

  “Zombie,” she murmured to herself as she dabbed a bit of concealer on, blending it until she almost looked rested—or at least less like the walking dead.

  She and Bill had been working together around-the-clock to get this done. Fixing her apartment was on hold until the bar was open, per her own request. She needed the money the business would bring in.

  And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to move out of Bill’s house. Despite everything. Despite needing to distance herself…there was comfort in knowing he was right there, near her.

  They worked really well together, and he’d been friendly to her. But he hadn’t touched her, not even once. It seemed as if he’d had to stop himself, sometimes, from even small gestures such as touching her shoulder to get her attention.

  But she missed his touch. It was good that they had their moment in the loft, perhaps, but all it had served to do was to show her exactly what she was missing.