She turned her head and her face was right there, pretty as a picture and tempting as hell. He took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself.
"You don't have to cook. You're a guest."
She shrugged, turning her attention back to the meal she was preparing. "I cook. That's what I do."
"Among other things," he couldn't hide the smile in his voice. She was a woman of many talents, and most of them surprised him more than he cared to admit. "Did you cook at Emma and Noah's?" He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms, watching her. The view from behind wasn't too shabby at all. She hadn't been here long but already, she was changing him. A month ago, the thought of appreciating a shapely ass that didn't belong to his wife felt blasphemous. Today, it almost felt permissible.
"There was hardly enough room to turn around in there, let alone cook." She glanced over her shoulder at his dubious expression and laughed, a sound that pinged him right in the middle of his chest. "I mean, this place isn't that much bigger, but there are two less bodies."
"Two?"
"Tucker definitely counts as an extra body, with all his underfoot wiggling."
He chuckled. The dog tried hard to be good but there were things that only came to a dog with life experience, like common sense and the ability to go lie down. Dane's dog, Rex, had perfected those things long ago but he had a decade on the pup.
"He tries to be good."
"He does, but he's just got so much love to give," Lily said, laughing.
"He would have loved it if you cooked for him," Finn replied. She began to rummage in the cupboards and that was when he stepped in, rubbing shoulders with her as he opened the last cupboard on the left and pulled out two plates.
"Thanks."
"Think nothing of it. What do you want to drink? I've got beer…and water. Milk, maybe?"
"Beer is fine," she returned, heaping a pile of noodles and sauce on each plate.
The red sauce was thick and chunky, with tons of vegetables, and a healthy dose of ground beef. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he found his eyes fixed on the steaming plates and his stomach growling loudly. He dragged his gaze away and dug a couple of bottles of domestic beer out of the fridge, turning back to the plates on the table and her bent over, retrieving a garlic loaf from the oven. He sure as hell knew he didn't have any loaves of French bread just hanging around.
"Did you go to town?" he asked, as she set the bread in the middle of the table.
"No, I made that."
"No shit?"
She grinned. "No shit. I mean, I had to borrow some…most of the ingredients from Ren."
"Did you get any of your photography work done this afternoon?"
With a shrug, she tugged the dishtowel she'd been wearing in her belt loop off her waist and dropped it onto the counter before taking her seat.
"Seriously, don't let your work fall behind because you're trying to play house." It should have been a tease, but it came out flat.
"That is not what this is," she said, lifting her fork with a frown. "Don't flatter yourself. This is a thank you meal, not a daily thing. I wouldn't want you to get too spoiled."
Finn couldn't resist a second longer, and jabbed his fork into the mound of pasta on his plate, twisting it around until it was bigger than his mouth, and holding up the ends with a piece of garlic bread he'd broken off the loaf. He transported it to his mouth and had to work hard to keep his eyes from falling shut in pleasure at the taste. The food was incredible, savory and perfectly seasoned, rivaling Ren's own spaghetti. A man, especially one who had been living alone for five years, could get used to the idea of a hot meal at the end of the day, especially if it was served by someone like Lily.
"Too late."
"Damnit," Lily laughed, shaking her head as she tucked into her own food.
*
"God, is that the time already?" Lily frowned, peering at the clock on the oven as she stood on tiptoe to put the now-clean plates back where she'd seen Finn retrieve them. He'd insisted on doing the dishes, but she'd rock-paper-scissored her way into drying, at least. When she'd started putting the meal together for him earlier, she hadn't expected they'd find such companionable small talk over dinner, he'd appreciate her cooking the way he did, or that she'd actually find herself enjoying time spent with him without a horse between them.
"Sure is." Finn chuckled from the sink. "Time flies when you're having fun."
Yawning, she paused and stretched, before resuming her spot beside him with the dish towel. The three beers she'd consumed since dinner, while they still sat at the table talking even though they had no reason to, were hitting her harder than normal. Something about the fresh mountain air grew her appetite and lowered her tolerance for alcohol. She glanced up at Finn, who swiped a cloth over the pan she'd used to brown the beef, then rinsed it and handed it to her.
"Stick a fork in me, I'm done." She shook her head, lazily circling her cloth over the pan until it came dry. "I've never been the type to go to bed early but I can't help myself around here."
"Four am does come early."
"If you think I'm getting up at four am, you've got another thing coming."
"Didn't you know that was a condition of the invitation to stay here?" he asked, barely concealing a grin. Laughing, she flicked her damp dish towel at his behind.
"Oh girl, you don't want to start that war. You will not win."
The growl in his words pulled something in her insides. She raised a brow and flicked the towel at him again and before she knew what was going on, he was making a move to take it away from her. She jerked back three steps, then turned and made it halfway around the kitchen table before he caught up to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind as he tried to pry the towel from her hands. Shrieking with laughter, she tried to wriggle free, but he was considerably bigger and stronger and she didn't stand a chance. He'd circled his arms around her shoulders and held her back flush against his chest.
"This isn't fair; I have no strength when I'm laughing." Her words punctuated by her laughter, she flailed when he lifted her feet a few inches off the ground.
"Just give up." His words were close and quiet in her ear and rumbly against her back and she stilled for a second, a wave of goosebumps rushing over her skin. He loosened his grip just enough that she could wriggle around, trapping her hands and the dish towel against his chest, and suddenly the playful mood had dissipated, as quickly as it had appeared. She expected him to let her go, push her away again, but he didn't, his grip still tight, but gentle, his dark eyes pinning her in place as effectively as his arms.
She swallowed hard when he lifted his hand, sliding it over her jaw, his fingers brushing the hairline behind her ear, inciting a fresh batch of goosebumps. His thumb made a slow trek across her cheek and she realized this wasn't like when he'd held her together outside of the round pen. This was something else entirely. Something that burned her up from the inside out. Something she wanted to give in to.
A quick breath rushed out of her two seconds before he lowered his head. Her fingers released the dish towel and curled into the front of his t-shirt as his lips covered hers, hot, and warm, and delicious. Gentle at first, but more demanding when she opened to him. He took, and she gave because there was nothing else she wanted to do. Her body boneless, she sagged against him, weak not from the laughter this time, but the pulsing rush of adrenaline going through her. When he lifted his head, she was breathless, clinging to him, and she could feel every beat of her heart through her entire body.
His grip loosened further; now she didn't want it to. Every part of her that touched him was on fire—in the best way possible. At this proximity, she breathed in the smell of a man who had put in a hard day's work; leather, sunshine, and the faint scent of sweat. His chest rose and fell as heavy breaths came out of him; suddenly, those dark, desire filled eyes looked stricken—like he'd just realized what he'd done and he was sorry for it.
He re
leased her like a hot potato. "I'm sorry. That was… so uncalled for. Goodnight."
Completely dumbfounded, she watched as he backed away from her, around the table, and then went to his bedroom, closing the door behind himself.
—EIGHTEEN—
"Well, if this doesn't work out, you can always sell him to the bronc string." Noah leaned over the edge of the round pen rail beside his brother as they watched Encore buck his way around the outer circle. When he passed by them, both brothers leaned back to avoid an accidental connection of flying hooves.
"Yeah," Finn said, frowning.
It was early, and Finn he'd decided to put Lily's theory to the test. With Noah's help, he'd managed to secure a breastplate to the saddle to stop it flying off over the gelding's haunches, and incrementally tightened the saddle. He'd send the horse around him with each advancement. The horse had barely even noticed until he'd secured the cinch, and then he'd spent the last few minutes doing his best to get rid of the equipment while the boys cleared the area.
He watched until the horse's body language indicated he was giving up—it wasn't his standard procedure to train this way, applying the 'scary' thing until the horse got over it, but the gelding had become dangerous quickly and he didn't get paid nearly enough to stand under 1200 pounds of furious feet—and then slipped between the rails of the pen, finding his spot in the middle.
"Easy, brother," he spoke quietly, his voice low and even. "You're alright."
When the gelding settled into a trot and then broke to a walk, Finn pushed him back into a trot for another circle, just to remind him the work was over when he said, not when the horse decided. And when the gelding dropped his head, one ear turned back to the man in the middle, indicating he was listening and waiting, Finn removed the pressure and allowed him to decelerate to a walk. Before long, Encore's mouth worked, a sign of submission, and Finn turned his back, allowing the horse to approach.
From the rail, Noah whistled low under his breath and shook his head. Finn shot his brother a look before he turned and stroked the gelding's forehead. Noah was a good trainer himself, but he didn't have the patience to wait out the difficult horses. Finn, on the other hand, had all the time in the world. For a very long time now, his success with the problem horses was one of the most important parts of his day.
"See, I told you you're alright," he murmured, gathering up the lead rope that had been dragging from the rope halter the horse wore. So it hadn't been a perfect session, but it was a step in the right direction, regardless. "I know that saddle scares the bejesus out of you, but you've faced scarier. You're gonna live."
He heard Noah's chuckle, and then Lily's soft voice at the rail behind him.
"How's he doing?"
She wasn't that close, but close enough his body paid attention. Even when he'd snuck out of the house this morning, he was acutely aware she was just behind the door across the hall, all soft and warm with sleep. He'd loved Sunny for a long time, but that had been a slow burn, a friendship that developed into more when they were still young. He'd always wanted her, but never with the urgency he felt for Lily right now.
"You're up early," he said, and swallowed, taking a second to check himself before he turned around. "Did you sleep well?"
She frowned when he answered her question with a question, but it didn't last long; a smile replaced it soon enough, and he was happy to be the one that put it there.
"Oh my God, yes. It was like going from an economy car to a Rolls Royce." Noah shifted beside her and cleared his throat and she glanced at him. "No offense."
"Yeah, yeah," he teased, bumping her shoulder with his own. "Anyway. If you're done here, Finn, I've got some stuff that needs looking after. Later, Lily."
She nodded to Finn and turned back to Encore, who had lost interest in Finn and approached the fence.
He watched his brother's back as he disappeared into the horse barn, leaving him alone with Lily and the memory of the kiss they'd shared not twelve hours earlier. She'd been so soft, so willing, and tasted so damn good. It felt strange to want someone, for the first time, since Sunny. And wrong. A double-headed churning of guilt and desire rose up in the pit of his stomach.
Oh, but he wanted Lily. He swung his gaze back to her, all dark brown eyes and sun-streaked hair and curves poured into jeans that fit just right. He knew by day's end, they'd be a little dirty on the knees because if capturing the right shot meant lying on her belly in the grass, that's what she'd do. She slipped between the rails of the fence and Encore dropped his head, pressing his forehead against her chest. It was comical, the difference in size between the two of them. Stroking his jaw lightly, she dropped her lips to his poll for a second, then blushed when she realized how closely Finn was watching her.
"Hey, you kept a saddle on him today, that's a bonus."
"Yeah, you missed the bronc show." He glanced at the horse, quiet as a lamb now, his head cradled in her arms. The pair had an undeniable bond, but he had no idea how he was going to make that translate back into the saddle. If nothing else, it would be a much longer endeavor, involving work on both sides, individually, and then together, than he had originally planned. There would be snow on the ground well before they were finished. The idea of being cooped up in his cabin with her during a snowstorm terrified and thrilled him all at once.
"Good," she said, and he patted himself on the back for the decision to try and avoid her witnessing too many more of the coming sessions. Sooner or later, he was going to have to try to get into the saddle, and if he made it that far, it would be neither easy nor pretty; it would be tough for her to stomach.
"It's a start."
"Good," she repeated.
He watched her as she continued to dote on the horse, something stirring in him that had been gone for a long time. I should tell her, he thought. Spill his guts about the way he'd hardly been able to sleep last night, thinking about her soft curves under his hands, knowing she was just in the next room over. At the very least, he could tell her he didn't know what he could offer her, but he wanted to kiss her again. He lost his nerve when she twisted and smiled at him. Not the expectant, eager smile he might have expected, but something a little sadder, a little softer. Something he didn't deserve.
He'd hesitated so long, she shifted, filling the silence.
"Anyway, the reason I'm up so early is to head over to the Anderson ranch, and I'm looking to bum a ride."
"You happen to be in luck," he said, moving to undo the latigo on Encore's saddle. He kept hold of the rope just to avoid any potential reenactments of the first time she'd been present when a saddle was involved. "I'm heading into town and I can drop you off."
She brightened. "Would you? I know Emma's busy and I'd go by myself, but this is my first trip out."
"Sure," he replied, sliding the saddle off of the gelding, who stood stock still—a testament to nothing more than the unpredictability Finn knew was going to make the act of bringing the two together nothing short of impossible. "I'll be in town a couple hours and I can pick you up on the way back, if you want?"
"Sounds good. Let me go get my gear."
Finn nodded, hoisting the saddle onto the rail of the round pen. "Let me put mine away. Meet back at the pickup."
*
When Lily emerged from the cabin with her camera bag slung over her shoulder, Finn was waiting by the truck. Looking past him, she saw Encore happily munching away on a couple flakes of hay in the round pen, a fresh water bucket in place.
"I appreciate you doing this for me, Finn," she said, climbing into the passenger seat of the truck. She'd known from the outside that it was several years older than the trucks Dane and Noah drove, but she doubted it worked any less hard. It had just been well taken care of, and the interior proved that. It smelled of pine air freshener and the faint smell of tobacco, even though she had never seen him with a cigarette or a lip full of dip. It was a comforting, earthy smell.
"Oh don't be silly. You're part of the fabric
of the ranch now, don't hesitate to ask for what you need."
I need you to kiss me again. The traitorous thought crossed her mind so quickly she didn't even see it coming. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his big, rough hand settle on the floor shifter between them, just inches from her knee. The rough, tanned skin of his fingers drew her mind to the feel of them on her back, pressing her body against his. She clutched her camera bag on her lap with her heart pounding at the base of her throat, and chastised herself. Get ahold of yourself, Jacobs. He wasn't making a move, he was driving his goddamn truck.
After he'd shut himself in his bedroom, she'd lain in bed, awake, considering the enigma that was Finn Baylor. There was no doubt she was attracted to him, to those soft little bits he showed her when nobody was looking, even if he hadn't made them apparent from the beginning. And maybe she shouldn't have given him the time of day because he hadn't exactly been warm when they'd first met, but she suspected there was something worth working for underneath the layers of prickly self-preservation. And she was never one to back down from a challenge.
Finn turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life just as Dane emerged from the big house with Gage, whose bicycle was flipped upside down at the bottom of the porch steps. Finn idled up to the pair and rolled down his window.
"You're heading to town?" Dane asked as Gage stood on his tiptoes to see into the cab of the truck.
"Yep, what do you need?"
"Inner tube? We've got a flat."
"Can do," Finn replied, reaching out to ruffle his nephew's mop of curly hair. "We'll get you fixed up in no time."
"Thanks, Uncle Finn!"
"Anytime, buddy." Lily watched the interaction between the Baylor men quietly. The family was all in sync, she couldn't imagine the heated arguments and long grudges of her own family happening anywhere on the ranch.
Finn waited until the boy stepped back and then shifted into gear, pulling out of the driveway.
"It must be nice having your family here so close."
He pressed his lips together, hesitating just a beat as they bumped down the drive past Emma and Noah's house before he replied. "It is."
Secondhand Heart Page 11
