by Em Petrova
Her heart gave a flutter at his nearness. She squeezed his hand and pumped it hard once. “Deal. I roll out in an hour. Now get goin’ and let me finish my soup.”
The grin he gave her was anything but tame or boyish. She walked back inside, shaking her head. She’d better not live to regret this.
Chapter Four
Riding for hours beside a beautiful woman was torment. Add a bumpy truck and bouncing breasts, and Lane had been gritting his teeth so much he’d be lucky not to wear down his molars. Sprinkle in some smart and witty conversation and he was hooked.
For the first few miles, their talk was stilted, but soon she relaxed, set the cruise control and kicked back. She drove like she did everything else—with confidence. It was sexy as hell.
They rolled into a small town just before noon, and he insisted on buying her lunch. Seated across from him in a little diner, she was back to looking uncomfortable, but he’d rolled up a straw wrapper and flicked it at her, which had struck a playful chord.
She’d spent a minute finding it tangled in her hair, and then when he wasn’t looking, dropped it into his drink. When he went to take a sip, he’d found it floating on the top, unraveled.
He had no idea what would happen between them, though he wanted plenty. One thing was certain—their attraction wasn’t dying down anytime soon. If anything, it was growing, swelling into huge proportions. It stretched between them, a palpable thing that she was trying her best to ignore.
Her ranch was out of the way, down some back roads about half hour from town, where she’d pointed out the hospital she spent much of her time at. The countryside opened up into sprawling Oklahoma fields and when they rounded a bend, a small ranch house appeared.
“This is it.” Her voice wavered, and he looked at her more closely.
“You nervous?”
She shot him a look that made his jeans painfully tight. “Why would I be nervous about you seeing my place?”
“Maybe it’s about seeing more than your place.”
“Pervert.” Her voice came easier at his joke.
She bumped to a stop in front of the house. A small barn was off to the side under some overgrown trees and a mangle of berry bushes.
“Who planted the bushes?” he asked, hand on the door, ready to hop out and set to work. “You?”
She shook her head. “Brant. Years ago, he brought home a little twig of blackberry and now look at it. You can’t even get near it to prune. C’mon. I’ll show you around.”
They went to the house first, and she gave him a small tour. The main rooms were furnished in a simple, country way, with plump seating and a red plaid blanket thrown over the back of a sofa. He pictured her coming home after a long shift and falling asleep on that couch, nestled under the blanket.
A woman like Delaney deserved someone to take care of her, to pick her up and carry her to bed.
A burning took up residence in his chest, and he pushed it aside as he followed her to the kitchen. “I’m sorry, but there’s no food. I’ll pick some up after I leave the office, but in the meantime…” She opened a drawer where a stack of takeout menus lay. She gave him a smile.
“They deliver all the way out here?”
“No, I usually run out the road halfway and meet them at a pull-off.”
“The country way,” he drawled.
She looked up at him, eyes wide. Damn, being around her this way, working closely and left alone with no camera crews or the complications of his big family, was going to make it difficult to drop the feelings he was building for her.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m capable of finding myself some grub.”
“Good, I won’t then.” She breezed past him and showed him the bathroom. Seeing her jams and jellies on the countertop gave him the urge to start opening them and giving each a sniff.
He shot a glance down the hallway to what must be her bedroom door. She took note but didn’t say anything. Then they left the house. Her porch boards squeaked. That was something he could take care of for her with a hammer and a pouch full of nails.
Grass needed cut. That blackberry briar tamed. He added to his to-do list as they walked.
She opened the barn door. “Oh good, Nick’s been here to feed the animals.”
A worm of jealousy slithered through his body. “Nick?”
She turned at his gritty tone and gave a thoughtful tip of her head. What would she do if he lightly wrapped his hand around her nape and tilted her head up for his kiss?
“Remember I told you my neighbor comes by and takes care of my animals when I have a long shift or leave town for a day or two. I haven’t done that in a long time, but Kashley’s been needing me.”
“Lucky to have you.” He pushed into the barn and went directly to the horse stalls. All the horses looked healthy enough, but they should be outside at this time of day, cropping grass and getting exercise.
“We can let them all loose now that I’m home.” She brushed past him, her sleeve whispering against his. With sure strides, she walked to a stall. She opened the latch and a sable horse moved against her immediately.
“Do you ride her?” He stood back watching the scene and pretending he was taking stock of the horse’s health when he was really obsessed with Delaney’s fingers trailing across the mare’s hide.
“When I have time.” She planted a kiss on the horse’s long nose and quickly grabbed a halter off a nail outside the stall. She made quick work of sliding the halter on, making sure the fit was comfortable and secure. He was impressed but couldn’t stand there looking at her any longer. Animals needed fresh air and light. He went to the next stall and spent a minute getting the aging beast to trust him.
A musical laugh sounded from behind him. “You made friends quickly.”
“Always been a knack of mine.” He held out a palm to show a sugar lump, which he’d grabbed from her kitchen.
She smacked his arm. “Cheater. And here I thought you had some magic touch. Old Ace never warms up to anyone but my son. He only tolerates me.”
“What about Nick?” He admitted to himself he was digging for information on this man. He took care of the animals for Delaney—did he also take care of her needs?
She laughed again, honey hair swaying on her shoulders. “Bit him twice.”
“Damn.”
“Stitches the second time. I felt terrible, but he insisted he was going to win over the horse in the end.”
The horse or the woman? Lane didn’t like having competition. He’d win over both.
Two by two they led the horses outside and into a small paddock. They had just enough space to roam, and he was satisfied with that. He stood next to Delaney and watched them for a moment.
“Look happy enough.”
She nodded. “That’s why I hate to get rid of them. Taking on animals is a lifelong commitment. I never gave it a thought back when I got them. But now that I’m not home very much and Brant’s not taking care of them, I feel terrible.”
He wanted to tell her that he was here now, that he’d take care of everything. But it was only a temporary solution to her problem. He had to figure out a way to provide something long-term.
She pushed out a sigh. “I need to get my life in order.”
He leaned nearer, wanting to protect and shelter and all those things his brothers had talked about before they’d gotten married.
Damn, where was this coming from? Did the Calhouns all hit a certain age and some instinct to get hitched struck?
Delaney turned her big blue eyes up at him. Did she know how beautiful and desirable she was? His mouth watered to kiss her, his hands twitched to touch her—everywhere.
And his cock throbbed with the need to sink into her wet pussy.
A donkey brayed from inside the barn, and he straightened. “Better let that one loose. Do you put him in with the horses?”
“Yes, but not the goat.”
The corner of his lips quirked. Her gaze seemed to catch on it.
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Good—she wasn’t immune to him either. She’d kissed him back with fervor, but since then he’d been wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.
He met the donkey and goat, each as stubborn as the other. The chickens needed their coop cleaned immediately, and Delaney started to apologize for it.
He held up a hand. “That’s why I’m here. Let me take care of it.” Along with a dozen other things that needed immediate repair. Once he started looking more closely, he saw some signs of neglect and understood Delaney’s need to make a change.
He got a wheelbarrow, a rake and a shovel and headed to the coop first. He got to work while Delaney just stood back watching. He glanced up once and gave her a long look. “Am I passin’ the test?”
She only nodded, leaving him wanting to hear her throaty voice. Once he was finished, he went around back to the manure pile he’d seen earlier. She trailed behind.
“I’m assuming you don’t have a garden to spread this on.” He waved toward the chicken shit.
“No time.”
“What do you do when the pile gets too big?”
“Usually Nick hauls it off for his fields.”
He nodded and dumped the wheelbarrow.
She watched him, brows crinkled. “Are you sure you wanna do this, Lane? I feel bad asking you to shovel my shit.”
A laugh escaped him, and she grinned in response. “It’s peaceful here. No cameras, none of Wynonna’s drama. It’s all I need.” He looked into her eyes, not bothering to hide his need. He hoped she knew it wasn’t all about getting her wrapped around his dick—he was eager to come to her rescue.
“If you’re sure. I’ve gotta get to the office. I have a full schedule this afternoon, and then I’ll probably be at the hospital, by the sounds of it. I have two women in labor.”
He nodded. “Does that old truck I saw beside the garage run?”
She shook her head. “That was Brant’s first vehicle and hasn’t run for a couple years. Never could figure out what was wrong with it. Just won’t start.” She sucked in a breath. “I never thought about you being wheel-less here. You should have driven alone.”
“Didn’t want to.”
She flushed a pretty shade of pink that made him think of kissing her whole body to find out what else flushed that shade.
“I promise to hit the grocery store.”
He dropped the shovel and came toward her, thinking to soothe the frazzled look in her eyes. Taking hold of her upper arms, he stared down at her. “It’s okay, doll. Don’t worry about me. I’m a cowboy. I’m resourceful.”
“There’re some things in the freezer you could defrost—”
He brushed his lips across hers to silence her. It worked. But one caress of those plump lips wasn’t nearly enough. He went back for more. Threading his fingers into her hair and drawing her in as he eased his tongue into her mouth. She gave a low moan that did more for his self-esteem than thousands of girls wearing T-shirts with his face on them.
He tasted her with light flicks of his tongue and pulled away while she was still dazed. “Go on,” he whispered. “Don’t add me to your list of worries. I’m a grown man.”
When she nodded, he released her. He watched her walk back to the house, her fine body playing on his cravings. She turned to look at him and threw him a wave. He tipped his hat and saw for the first time that he might be getting through her wall of resistance.
* * * * *
Delaney made it through half a dozen patients in auto-mode. While she provided the best care, her mind wasn’t completely on her job today. Not when there was a gorgeous, virile man working at her place right now.
And capable—she couldn’t forget capable. Having Lane take over was sexy as hell. Don’t add me to your list of worries. I’m a grown man.
Yes, he was. At first, she’d seen him as too young. But the more she got to know him, the more she saw he was more mature than his years. An old soul too, if she was reading him correctly. He wasn’t like Brant’s friends sitting around talking about sports or girls. He wasn’t constantly checking his phone.
On their drive, he’d discussed feeling out of touch with society and having no problem with being a loner. Though he loved his family, he’d often sought solitude, and now with the craziness of cameras and press, he wanted more than anything to hide.
She was happy to give that to him. But he deserved something besides a frozen TV dinner and a huge pile of manure to shovel.
Before she’d finished with her office visits, she was called to the hospital to deliver a baby. The newborn was healthy, but the mother had a complication with her placenta not being completely delivered, and Delaney had a burst of adrenaline as she took care of the matter. In the end, mother and child were both safe and resting, but the rush had left Delaney feeling wrung out.
She wanted a shower and her bed, but she still had another woman in labor. She spent hours coaching her, the lights low and soft music playing. She was experiencing back pain, and Delaney gave her massage to ease it. All the while, part of her mind worked over the puzzle of Lane.
What was she doing with a man she was so attracted to at her house? He kissed her with a liberty that turned her on more than she cared to admit. There was also the problem of where he was sleeping.
Not many choices for where to sleep. There was always the barn, and she suspected it wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept in one. But that seemed… inhospitable. The couch was okay, but not her son’s room.
She sighed. The couch it was.
The thought of seeing him sprawled there, bare back carved with muscle and his hat and boots on the floor next to him, made her insides mush.
Once the labor turned to the pushing stage, things got down to business fast. In a few shoves, the baby was in Delaney’s hands. She wrapped things up, scrubbed and checked her phone for messages.
With a shock, she saw an unfamiliar number but very familiar words. Don’t worry about groceries. It’s late. Just come home.
A shiver ran through her body and settled low in her stomach. She drove home in a state of excitement. She couldn’t let him kiss her again. But she couldn’t wait to walk through her door and see him there, waiting for her. Maybe he’d have a frozen dinner ready for her too and had found her stash of wine.
When she pulled into her driveway, she sat up straighter in shock. The old truck was moved—sitting in front of the garage. Darkness had fallen, and she wasn’t able to see the barn, but she knew for a fact Lane would have the animals put to bed with their dinners and fresh hay.
She walked through the door and the rich scent of frying beef and onions greeted her. She dropped her keys on the hall table and toed off her shoes, leaving them where they fell. “Lane?”
He came out with a grin, wearing his jeans slung low and a black T-shirt that said Rope ‘n Ride. “There’s the lady I’ve been waiting for.” He came forward and brushed the loose strands of her hair off her face, staring deep into her eyes. She curled her toes into the floor and tried to find a way to draw breath. “Long day.”
“Y-yes. Is that… what do I smell?”
He flashed a grin that made her want to strip off her clothes and jump him. “Hope you like steak.” He turned for the kitchen again.
“Where did you find steak?” She followed him like a puppy promised a treat. She gasped to see the kitchen table where she only ever sat when Brant was home set with her plaid placemats and real plates—not paper ones.
On the stove was a frying pan where two thick rib-eyes sizzled along with the onions she’d smelled. He moved to the stove and used an oven mitt to pull two foil-wrapped potatoes out. He carried these in one hand, and she was surprised when he set them on their plates how big the potatoes actually were.
“Where did you get this stuff? If I had a potato, it was rotten or growing eyes.”
He chuckled and returned to the stove. He shook off the oven mitt and took the handle of the pan. He strolled back to the table and placed a steak
on each plate and then spread onions on top. “I got your truck goin’. Drove into town and bought a few things. Take a seat.”
“Let me help.”
“You look bushed, if you don’t mind my sayin’. Sit, doll.”
She felt weighted, but it wasn’t with fatigue. It was desire. Her limbs felt heavy, her nipples and pussy aching. Somehow she managed to drop into her chair without missing and hitting the floor.
This time he returned to the table with fresh green beans swimming in butter. She stared at the plate before her and back to the stud who’d made it. “Lane, you didn’t have to do this.”
“Wanted to. Are you saying you’re not hungry?”
Her stomach clawed at the mere sight of the feast. “I’m starved.”
He flashed that grin again, the one that made her hungrier in other ways. “Good. Oh, what would you like to drink?” He went to the refrigerator. When he opened it, she saw it was stocked. “I’ve got lemonade, water and beer. Oh, and you’ve got some wine left.”
“I’ll have some wine please.”
He poured her a glass and brought it back, along with a beer for himself. They sat across from each other like a real couple having a real meal.
“I can’t believe you did all this, Lane.”
He waved a hand. “Was nothing.”
“I’ll pay you back for the food.”
He leveled his stare at her. “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll eat most of it anyway. Try your steak and see if it’s cooked the way you like it.”
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“I was the youngest boy and I ended up playing with Wynonna most. Momma taught us both because Wynonna complained she didn’t have a sister to learn it with.”
Delaney laughed, the noise so carefree she hardly recognized it as her own. She picked up her knife and fork and sliced into the steak. Juices ran out and she moaned. “It’s perfect.” Hell, he was perfect.
“Good. Haven’t cooked a steak on the stove before. I tried to light your grill, but—”
“There’s no propane. I never got around to getting any since Brant left. I don’t use it much.”
