Candis Terry - [Sweet, Texas 01]

by Anything But Sweet

  “A pleasure ride.”

  “Well, doesn’t that just sound like my slice of pie.”

  Reno laughed, then showed her how to mount the horse—which was fairly easy because, Lord knew, she was a tall girl. Moments later, as she got used to sitting in the saddle, Reno went to his own horse, put his foot in the stirrup, and swung his long, muscular leg over.

  He settled a straw cowboy hat over his dark hair. His boots looked like they’d seen many ranch miles. And the tight T-shirt and jeans combo, well, wasn’t that just about every woman’s fantasy?

  “What’s your horse’s name?” she asked.

  “Cisco.”

  “Like the Kid?”

  “Yep.” He made a clicking sound. Both horses turned their heads and started toward the gate that led to the big meadow and beyond. “He’s a champion cutting horse.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A performance horse. It’s a competition where the horse and rider cut one cow from the herd without letting it return. My dad and Cisco brought home a lot of trophies. He’s made some pretty good earnings over the years.”

  “I’d like to see that kind of competition.”

  He turned to look at her. “You would?”

  “Of course. I’m always willing to try something new.”

  “Well, Fancy Pants, you are about to do just that.”

  She didn’t seem to mind him calling her Fancy Pants anymore.

  Reno smiled to himself.

  Guess she realized at some point it had gone from a slur to a term of endearment.

  The horses prodded along at an easy clip, in no hurry to get anywhere, and neither was he. With Charli at his side and a warm breeze at his back, he figured he could be riding anywhere, and it wouldn’t matter. On the plus side, her curiosity kept him entertained.

  They’d just passed a small herd of Whitetail that made her gasp. Moments later, she pointed, and asked “What kind of trees are those?”

  “Take your pick. You’ve got some live oaks, lacy oaks, cedar elm, and on the banks of the creek, you have some cypress and pecan. And those”—he pointed to the clusters of cacti—“are the Texas state plant. Prickly pear cactus. Which are edible. My mom makes an excellent jelly with them.”

  “Mmmm. Sounds delicious.” She took a long look around. “I never knew Texas looked like this. I always imagined it flat and dry, like in the John Wayne movies.”

  “You watched the Duke?”

  “Didn’t everybody? Of course, in a young girl’s heart, he really couldn’t hold a candle to Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. And then there’s Daniel Craig in Cowboys & Aliens. And let us not forget Johnny Depp in Rango.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “Rango is a lizard.”

  “I beg your pardon. He’s a chameleon. And the fact that you even know who Rango is gives you extra points.”

  He laughed, tipped his hat back, and gave her a hopeful look. “So you’re saying you like cowboys?”

  “Yes.” Her dark eyes licked him up and down. “So you’re saying you watch cartoons?”

  “Busted.” He gave Cisco a little kick. “I’ve already got a date with Izzy to see the new Disney princess movie.”

  “Be still my heart.” She fanned herself, then stopped suddenly. “Wait. Should I be jealous?”

  “Only if you refuse my offer to come along. I do look pretty tempting with melted butter and Raisinets stains on my shirt.”

  She whoaed Bonnie, then crooked her finger. “Come here.”

  He sidestepped Cisco closer and was rewarded when Charli curled her arm around his neck, leaned in, and gave him a kiss. “I wouldn’t dream of taking your attention away from your adorable niece. But I would offer to lick off your butter and chocolate.”

  He leaned closer and framed her face with his hands. “You have a deal.”

  Her gentle laughter floated across the meadow as they got the horses going again. Something settled into Reno’s soul that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again.

  Peace.

  How that was possible when only a few weeks ago he was ready to run her ass out of town on a rail, he didn’t know.

  But, she’d been right. He’d damn sure changed his mind.

  “So Cisco belonged to your father?”

  “My dad owned Cisco’s mom. He was there from the moment Cisco was born, and he trained him from that day forward.” He reached down and gave the horse a pat on the neck. “They made a great team.”

  “They say you can tell a lot about a man from the way he treats his mother,” she said. “I’d have to add you can tell a lot about the way a man speaks of his father too.”

  He shrugged. “Wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for him. For either of them. They saved my life. They were amazing parents.”

  “And you’re still trying to pay them back.”

  He looked up—saw the admiration in her eyes. “I’ll be trying to pay them back until the day I die.”

  He could never do enough to prove how much he appreciated being rescued that day when he was a scared, hungry, little boy. He’d never forget the comforting arms that surrounded him and made him feel safe or the house they’d brought him to, where he felt an immediate sense of homecoming. The day Angela had died, people asked him how he felt. He’d felt nothing. Just because a woman could give birth to a child didn’t make her a mother. Just because a man could get a woman pregnant didn’t make him a father. Reno knew he’d been lucky because in every sense of the terms mother and father, he’d found Jana and Joe.

  They’d raised him to be caring, smart, and self-sufficient.

  His father had taught him to be a man.

  His mother had taught him to love.

  And he’d never stop trying to prove his appreciation.

  He and Charli rode in silence for a hundred yards, then he asked, “You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Then kick that pony into gear and follow me.”

  Together, they worked as a team. Reno grabbed the saddlebags and set them down on the blanket he’d spread out on the ground next to the creek while Charli held the reins of both horses until he had everything in place. When he removed the tack, the mare and gelding wandered off to munch grass.

  “Won’t they run away?” Charli looked up at him, concern tightening her voice.

  “Nope. All I have to do is whistle, and they’ll come back from wherever they roamed.”

  “Well, they’re better behaved than Pumpkin then. She just ignores me when I call.”

  “Yeah, she does have the tendency to be a bit of a wild child.”

  “She probably gets that from me.” Laughter rumbled deep in her chest. “I’m probably a bad influence.”

  “Is that so?” He snaked one arm around her and pulled her close, aware of the desire that rode up his thighs and settled in his groin.

  “Yes.” She kissed him, then nipped his bottom lip. “And if you’ll show me what you’ve got in those bags, I’d be happy to give you a demonstration.”

  “Guess if I want a real show, I’d best feed you first.”

  “I hoped you’d say that. Because I’m starving.”

  “How’s this sound?” He opened the flaps and pulled out the contents, holding each bag up as he called them out. “Barbecue brisket sandwiches and coleslaw from Sweet Pickens. Fresh Dutch apple pie from Bud’s Diner. And cabernet from the Sweet Oak Wine Cellar.”

  She looked at the banquet he’d set out on the blanket and licked her lips. “Heavenly. Only one thing would make it taste even better.”

  “What’s that?”

  She closed the space between them. Her cupcake scent drifted like a sweet bouquet beneath his nose. While his heart thumped against his ribs, she slid her hand up the front of his shirt and curled her fingers around his nape. The heat of her hand sent a warm shot of desire down through his chest.

  His hands clutched the paper bags—fingertips tingling. Every cell craved that perfect union of bodies that made him feel
more complete than he’d ever dreamed. It was all he could do not to grab her, tear her clothes off, and go all he-man.

  Her hand slid down past his buckle to his zipper. She stood on tiptoe and kissed the underside of his jaw as her palm pressed against his erection. “If I can use you as a plate.”

  The bags fell from his hands. “The hell with dinner.”

  He crushed her to him, claimed her mouth, and forgot about anything but the raw, aching need to be one with her. To be deep in her slick, moist heat. To feel her long arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him close.

  With a sigh of sensual surrender, she softened in his arms. God, he loved that about her. One moment she could be sassy, fully in charge of the situation—and him. The next moment, she was like a warm pat of butter, eager to be molded by his hands and lips. He kissed her with not so much brute force as desperate need.

  Far sweeter than any dessert he’d ever tasted, her tongue met his—playing a game of hide-and-seek he was only too happy to let her win. His erection swelled beneath the heat and pressure of her hand. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  Her head came up, eyes heavy-lidded. “Why?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then put your hands behind your back.” He trailed his fingertips down the front of her little white tank top, brushing her hardened nipples.

  Slowly, she put her hands behind her back. Her breasts thrust forward. Her nipples rigid against the thin fabric.

  His mouth watered.

  As much as he wanted to tear away that cotton barrier and have his way, he didn’t want to hurry. A woman like Charli was meant to be savored like a perfectly aged whiskey. He wanted to feel the rush. Taste the burn. Enjoy the journey.

  He reached up and released her hair from the elastic band. The dark locks fell around her shoulders in a cloud of loose, silky curls. In the waning sunlight, she looked like a forest nymph. “So beautiful.” He took a strand between his fingers, lifted it to his nose, and breathed in her confectionary scent. His arousal intensified, and he closed his eyes to regain control.

  When he opened them again, he found her biting her bottom lip. Leaving a red spot he had no choice but to kiss away.

  That meeting of lips and tongues nearly stripped away his intent to go slow. He took his time—touching her with gentle, possessive hands—the full curve of her breasts, the long line of her throat and waist. With his mouth, he coaxed and teased. When she began to moan and lean closer, a bullet of white-hot lust shot into his groin.

  He slid his hands down her sides, then slipped them beneath the edge of her shirt. When he caressed the warm flesh at the small of her bare back, the tips of his fingers tingled. He lifted the top over her head and smiled when she stood there for him to see without trying to cover herself.

  He bent his head, lowered it to the side of her throat, and inhaled her luscious scent. His mouth opened over that sensitive spot just below her ear, and he softly sucked. Eyes closed, her head dropped back while his parted lips trailed to her cleavage. His palms tested the weight of her breasts while he licked and suckled her nipples until they were wet and erect.

  “Appetizers are over.” She unlocked her clasped hands from behind her back and yanked his shirt from his jeans. “I have to touch you.”

  Only because he wanted to feel those amazing breasts against his bare chest did he allow her to pull the shirt over his head. Her soft hands caressed the muscles of his shoulders, bunched in anticipation of her touch.

  “More,” she said in a husky whisper, and reached for his buckle.

  “Me first.” His fingers made busy work of stripping away her denims and tiny blue panties beneath. And then he stepped back, looked at her for a long, breath-stealing moment before he sank to his knees and drew her to his mouth.

  With one hand braced on her backside, he parted her slick flesh with the other and found her with his tongue. She dug her fingers into his hair and let out a long “Ahhhhhh” while he worked her swollen erect nub. Beneath his hands, the muscles of her derriere clenched and released. Her breathing came quick and breathy, and he could feel her climax build.

  “No, no, no.” She moaned. “With you. I want to come with you.”

  He gave her a long slow lick, then looked up. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” She clutched at him, pulling him to his feet. “I waited too long to have you. I don’t want to do anything alone anymore.” She grabbed the waistband of his pants, undid the buckle and zipper, and pushed the denim and boxer briefs down his legs.

  He toed off his boots, then they both stood there naked. She wasted no time in taking matters—and him—into her own hands. One touch of those fingers curled around his solid erection was enough to make him buckle at the knees. She leaned in, flattened her tongue against his erect nipple, and moaned. Then her soft hand stroked him slowly from head to base. He pushed into her palm, and, when he couldn’t take the heat anymore, he knew he had to get into the kitchen.

  He swept her off her feet, laid her on the blanket, and followed her down. Braced on his elbows, he moved over her. Her greedy hands were all over him. Her mouth tantalized. Her legs opened wide to welcome him in. The plump head of his erection nudged her slick opening, and she moaned her pleasure. Her impatience.

  “Please, Reno.” Her teeth nipped his earlobe. Her hot breath brushed his cheek. Her words escaped on a breathless plea. “I want you so much.”

  Need and desire tangled in his throat, and he couldn’t speak. His only response was to give her what they both wanted. Needed.

  He sucked air into his lungs as he pushed into her. Strong. Steady. Complete. Her uneven breath whispered across his temple as he moved inside her, increasing the rhythm. Friction built. Heat engulfed. His heart pounded in his ears as intense pleasure grabbed him and turned him inside out. He whispered her name. She locked her legs around his back. Lifted her hips. And met his thrusts.

  And then she tightened her legs and came over him and around him with a long moan. Her muscles contracted, gripping him tight inside her as wave after wave of release washed over her. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, and he joined her in that sensual state of bliss. With his head thrown back, he gave her all of him—body and soul—as he thrust into her one last time.

  Later, they swam in a deep pool he and his brothers had long ago created within the creek. They played. They laughed. They made love again. When a breeze kicked up, and their bodies grew chilled from the cool water, they finally ate their dinner and drank their wine.

  While Charli’s sexy side was there to see in every move she made and every smile she gave, Reno also drew out her playful side. After several glasses of smooth cabernet, it didn’t take him long to discover yet another facet of the woman who took his breath away on so many levels.

  Together, they lay on the blanket, looking up at the stars, when she asked, “Will the dogs be okay in the house tonight?”

  “There’s a dog door in the laundry room, so they can always go outside if they need to. They have food and water. And as we discovered last night, they enjoy lounging on the sofa. So I’d say they’re covered.” He leaned his head back, and through the darkness looked at her. “Why?”

  “Can we stay here tonight?” She turned on her side and smoothed her hand along his chest.

  “Here?” The touch of her fingers sent a shiver of pleasure through his body. “Beside the creek?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t bring sleeping bags. This blanket is all we have.”

  “But if we snuggle, it will cover both of us, right?”

  “Sure.” He liked the idea of that. “You’re not afraid of spiders or snakes. Or scorpions?”

  She looked up at him with big, trusting eyes. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

  “With my life.”

  “Then can we stay till morning?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “I do. I love it here. It’s so quiet. So pea
ceful. It makes me feel like . . . I belong.” She rolled to her back and sighed. “I never have, you know. We moved so much. I was always the new girl. A mystery for the boys. Competition for the girls. Our neighbors were always nice, but they might as well have had the same faces and names. I never really got to know any of them. I’ve come to know the people in this town better than anyone I ever lived next door to.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. “I always longed for somewhere like Sweet. But I never believed a place like this actually existed. I can understand why you would never want to leave.”

  Maybe all the time she spent in the small towns she traveled to fulfilled some deep need in her soul. Maybe they were just a substitute for what she really wanted, he thought.

  Charli had a need to belong.

  Maybe they weren’t all that different after all.

  “Maybe you don’t have to leave this time,” he said.

  “That would be nice. Then again, life is never really that easy, is it?”

  “Depends on how bad you want it.”

  “I want you.” She smiled against his mouth.

  And without a doubt, he wanted her.

  He stretched his arm out, and she moved in close, with her head on his shoulder. They snuggled. Which was a word he’d never used before. But damned if he didn’t like it.

  She felt so good in his hands—against his heart. As they lay there together beneath the moon and the stars under the canopy of ancient oaks, he was glad he’d taken the risk.

  The rewards went far beyond sexual.

  She made him feel again.

  Desire again.

  Dream again.

  But even as satisfaction floated in his veins, he didn’t fool himself into believing that the day she packed up and moved on would be easy.

  Letting her go would be anything but sweet.

  Chapter 17

  When one awoke in the morning beside a creek with a canopy of fluttering green leaves overhead, nestled in the arms of a deliciously sexy, good-hearted man, one had no choice but to be in the best mood of her life.

  Charli—in the best mood of her life—excitedly turned the Hummer onto the long, tree-shaded drive that would take her to her new friend Jana and the treasure-filled barn loft.