Not that I prized it above everything. In fact, I'd rather have things go smoothly for just one week , seven days I wouldn't have to waste on plugging leaks in the ship.
The sunset's last rosy tint was disappearing behind the hills when Declan rode up on his steed, guiding two big rams toward the gate, Jimmy and Clarence flanking his side.
Tom grunted loudly and began to push as soon as the sheep trotted inside. The gate slammed into place with a loud clack, and he leaned on it for good measure.
“Jesus! I think we've actually got all of 'em. We're gonna have to fix this thing pronto, Misty.”
I muttered my agreement, but he only had half my attention.
Clarence and Jimmy surrounded the new hero on horseback. They slapped his shins with their big calloused hands.
From afar, he looked like a warrior returning from an impossible skirmish, triumphant and winning instant respect from his peers. He was the spitting image of the hero, the man with a shadow everyone craves to feel just once.
I ran over and listened to them gawk.
“That was amazing as hell, man! You've got some serious skills. Never seen anybody ride Ace like that since old man Sheen ran things around here.” Still grinning, Jimmy gripped his hand tightly and turned. His face melted the instant he saw me.
“Uh, sorry, Misty. Didn't mean no offense.”
“Get out of here,” I said. “You guys better help Tom secure the gate before you head home. Make sure it's done right, or else we're gonna have a sheep hunt all over tomorrow.”
“Nice to meet you anyway, Mister Declan.” Clarence kicked dust at Jimmy playfully and the two men bounded away, off to the tool shed to retrieve the supplies they needed.
I waited for Declan to meet me, but he had already dismounted. He was halfway across the field, closing on the barn, walking Ace to his stables. I had no choice but to run after him.
“Hey! Wait up!” I yelled.
He stopped and turned, smiling as he wiped his brow. I had an awkward flash of those Western movies I used to watch with Daddy.
For an instant, I felt just like a young settler girl running across the open plains to greet her lover after warding off rampaging Indians.
“Anywhere in particular you want me to drop him off?”
“I'll show you. Let's go together,” I said quickly. “You really did an amazing job out there. I'm glad I let go of my worries and let you do your thing after all.”
“Yeah? It's nice to have praise from the boss.” Declan grinned, flashing me the huge row of perfect set teeth in his strong jaw.
“At least someone around here respects my authority.” Unconsciously, I rolled my eyes.
Declan's face hardened. “Just give it some time. I've been around guys like them before and they never handle transition well. Takes a little while to realize they need someone to organize the grunts, or else the whole place falls apart.”
“Yeah. Hopefully it'll change sometime this century.” I swallowed my sarcasm and followed him into the barn in silence.
Hanging close a couple steps behind him provided an unexpected treat. I watched the way his shirt clung to his hard body, visualizing the perfection underneath.
It was one thing to see him slack and weak in bed. But out here, healed and magnificent, he put those muscles to good use. And I wanted to keep watching them, to discover all their awesome surprises.
All the vigorous effort in the warm evening left him sweaty. I pursed my lips.
Evil desires danced in my head. I wanted to drag my hands underneath his shirt, wipe away the moisture with my fingers, following the slick trails deep into his flesh.
Stop it. Nothing like that is ever gonna happen here. He's your guest. And you're supposed to be the lady of the household.
Act like it.
The last words my inner voice spoke sounded exactly like Daddy. But would my father really disapprove of me casting eyes at a guy who seemed wholesome, strong, and incredible on horseback?
“Hey, does he need to be fed and watered?”
Declan turned to me with a hard smile. I shook my head, wondering how many times he'd asked that question while I was lost in thoughts too steamy to contain.
“Uh, yeah. Just put him into the big stable in the corner and I'll take care of it.”
I returned a minute later with fruit, hay, and a long hose to fill Ace's trough. Declan stepped aside as I moved in, lovingly brushing the horse's snout with my palms.
“I wish you knew how much I appreciated you out there today. This ranch can use that kinda strength everyday.”
Ace began to drink. I smiled, gathering up the water hose and popping the stable shut behind me.
“Say no more, little lady. I'd be happy to pull my weight around here. As many hours as you'd like.”
“Huh?” It took me a minute to get that he'd heard what I said to the horse – and then realized I was really addressing him, even if I didn't fully know it.
“Oh, no. Like I've said before, you're a guest on this ranch.”
“Nonsense. Didn't feel a thing I couldn't handle out there on your ride. In a few more days, I'll be close to perfect again, and it's only fair I should start doing some work around here as long as I stay.”
“You want to stay?” My hands tensed into fists at my side.
I locked eyes with him, unable to hide the hopeful sparks flaring in mine.
“Damned straight. I need to find Anderson, especially if he's still up to no good in these parts.” He stepped forward when he saw the fear in my face.
I sucked in a quick, hot breath, but nothing prepared me for those strong hands falling to my shoulders. Declan squeezed my burning skin, a complicated touch, a lover's promise and a sheriff's conviction at once.
“I won't let anything happen to you or anything here. I promise. All I'm asking is a little free reign to stay so I can bring this bastard to justice. This is more personal than getting paid now.”
One hand left my shoulder and he pulled up his shirt. I stared at the fading bruise. I understood.
You need to get justice. Revenge. You need to right your wounded pride, like a man who's been kicked off a bull at a rodeo.
“If you're sure it's safe,” I whispered.
“Misty, I know it is. I'm not going to lie.” He paused, relaxing his face.
“When I first showed up here, I thought you were just an innocent farm girl. But I see you're running this place and ordering around men twice your age. Hell, you dragged me in and took care of business the instant you saw me hurt. If you can handle all that, you can handle anything.”
My vision blurred. My eyes wavered as they filled halfway with tears, making the hopeful stars dance in the pools.
Compliments were rare. Alien.
I wracked my brain to remember the last time a man had said kind words to me. It was probably my English Professor in college, the one class I'd done well in before I hung up my scholarly credentials for good.
“You appreciate my work? Well, I appreciate you. I'd repay you some way better if I wasn't worried about staying here to get my man.”
Slowly, I reached out, clasping his biceps in my trembling hands. My fingers dug into his steely flesh as teary streams ran down my cheeks, one on each side, hope and anguish mirrored in parallel.
He lifted his arms, the better for me to grab onto him. God, his muscles were good beneath my fingertips, richer and more comforting than slipping my hands into cool prairie soil.
I gasped as I released him. Lust, sorrow, and shame flooded my chest. My heartbeat thrummed, a dizzying tempo so vibrant it made my nerves jump like banjo strings.
I wanted to get inside the house and collect my senses. But this irresistible man, Declan Schuster, wasn't done with me yet.
I moved to step aside, but his hands reached out. They spread tight along my spine and pulled me into him.
Air filled my lungs, sticky and sweet with tension. I held it, waiting for the inevitable kiss.
�
�It's more than just appreciation, you know. You're a smart, beautiful little lady with your head screwed on tight as bolts. You're a rare breed, Misty. The kind of rare I like.”
I closed my eyes, bracing for his lips, ready to feel the volcanic explosions deep inside me. Muscles that hadn't flexed for months clenched in my lower belly, ringing my inner thighs with wonderful heat.
“Miss Sheen.”
I dropped flat from my tip-toes. We both spun around at once and coldness replaced the burning heat of his palms on my back.
Clarence. He spoke to me formally half the time, the same way he'd done with my farmer.
Usually when he had to make an unannounced visit – like now. He also had a knack for coming to me with problems at the worst times!
“Really sorry to interrupt,” he said with a cough. “We've got a problem out there. Tom whacked his hand bad while he was pounding in the new latch. Jimmy and I finished it up, but a couple of the man's fingernails were coming apart by the end.”
“Shit!” I stomped one foot. It wasn't fair. The whole damned universe had just thrown a curve ball between me, Declan, and the ranch.
And as for poor Tom...
“Is he gonna be alright? Guess I better call Doc McLaren.”
“Nah, Jimmy's already driving him to the clinic. Doc said he's still there working late and he'll take a look. But I'm guessing he'll have to rest that hand for a few days, maybe more...guessing you know what that means.”
I groaned. Declan placed his dominant hand on my shoulder, rubbing away my frustrations, dangerously close to boiling over.
“Why, Clarence? Why can't I just catch a fucking break one time!” The curse bounced off the old ceiling above us. The horse next to me perked its ears up and snorted.
“Wish I knew, Miss Sheen. It's like the whole place has been cursed since your Pa passed.” He pulled his faded hat from his head and clenched it to his chest.
“There's another solution,” Declan said. “Give Tom's work to me. I'm gonna guess it's something I can handle, farm experience and all.”
I sensed he was on the verge of mentioning his great physique, but stopped. Even so, I laughed when he flexed his muscles.
Clarence relaxed, deep in thought. “Yeah...I guess that would work. You know how to drive a stick?”
“Only since I hit fifteen and got my permit,” Declan said, grinning ear to ear.
I looked at him and started smiling myself. I wiped my tears and refrained from throwing my arms around his strong neck – but just barely.
I shouldn't be so worried about his investigation, I thought. Maybe what Daddy always said is true. Things happen for a reason. And now that I've helped him, he's the man to get things back on track here.
Summer was past its mid-point, but it didn't make the nights any less fuzzy with raw heat.
I threw the covers off, hating the stickiness dotting my skin. It made it too uncomfortable to sleep, to dream, and invited all sorts of unwanted fantasies in the insomniac silence.
But the real hot spring hummed between my thighs. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so horny. Probably not since my months at the Uni, and certainly not after Daddy's death.
This is what you get when you let all this energy build up. A young woman like you should be out dancing her tail off at the clubs and then exploring the guys she meets.
I never wanted just any man, though. That was always the problem.
All my life, I'd gone through just a handful of boys. Even fewer I invited into my bed. And things simply never worked out.
They were too immature, too weak, too afraid to claim me in every way imaginable.
I tried my best never to half-ass things, and doubled down in short lived relationships I had. Took a guy about thirty days tops before he broke and ran from my intensity.
I'd never met anyone with my dedication, my energy for living life. Not until this bounty hunter wandered onto my ranch...
It took all my energy to restrain myself. I wanted – no, needed – to creep out of bed, slip down the hall, and climb onto him as he slept.
I practically felt his flesh beneath my hands, hot and real, his heavenly scent surrounding my nose at every breath. I wanted him to throw me to the floor and ravage me.
And I wanted it to keep going all night, long as the darkness, until I literally couldn't handle another second. I wanted, needed, to be savaged, penetrated and filled with this otherworldly perfection in a man's shape.
But my needs rarely lined up with reality.
Somehow, I slept on. And the dreams came, feral and bright.
Seductive, limb curling dreams. I chewed my bottom lip and clawed at the sheets in my sleep.
I didn't know it was possible for women to have wet dreams. That night, I did.
I woke up near dawn, breathless and flushed.
I imagined he came to me. His masculine bulk sank on top of me as I spread my legs, and I felt those lips at long last.
I sucked and clawed at his flesh. It was like falling into a vast garden of sweet roses. He held me down, pulling my hair as the kisses deepened, giving me that delicious contrast only a truly skilled man can manage.
Declan's phantom bled through my dreams, into morning's first pale notes. He'd been on top of me, shirtless in all his glory, grinding between my licks as his tongue swept over mine.
If I wasn't so damned light sensitive and set my clock a few minutes later, I might've gotten off in my sleep. Too bad it wasn't meant to be.
The old wind up clock clanged like the devil beating a kettle. I throttled up, heart racing, wiping the lust from my eyes.
Whatever. I couldn't start my day like this, sopping wet, flesh quivering as prickly blood cut channels through my flesh.
I lifted my gown and let my hand wander beneath my waistband.
I masturbated. Aggressive, sharp, and efficient like a man.
I stuffed the corner of my pillow between my teeth and came. The covers got tangled around my limbs, but I kept moving, grinding deep into my own blissful fever. I blunted my convulsive screams in soft cotton and sweat stained sheets.
When I kicked my feet over the side, sat up, and let my soles touch the cool wooden floor, exhaustion rippled through my body.
God! Who is this man sleeping in the room next to mine? I mean, who is he, really?
Who is he to leave me guilty and spent before I've even started my day?
IV: Unpleasant Reminders (Declan)
It took the whole morning to haul eggs into town.
Misty's ranch had a huge gaggle of chickens. Keeping up with the excesses wasn't easy.
But this time, she caught the hens at prime time and was ready to sell their surplus eggs for extra support money. Easy come, easy go.
I helped my two new partners wander through the stuffy coops, collecting eggs from nervous chickens.
Two, three, four trips passed the same. I carefully loaded the crates at the farm and rode along into town.
A kindly old man, the general store owner, came out to check the shipment when we pulled up. That was my cue to unpack.
He opened the first crate and slowly looked at the eggs. His eyes were good, despite his age. He found an infinitesimal crack in one and tossed it into the garbage.
Damn it. Sure hope that's the only bad one.
I held my breath as he lifted up the top layer and inspected the second carton, then the third. The rest were good. Satisfied, he put the pieces back together and signed off on the paperwork.
My partners jumped in the back and started passing the other crates to me. I stacked them neatly on the trolley and prepared to wheel them inside.
“Haven't seen you around these parts. Misty's got a new man, huh?” The owner rubbed his trim gray mustache, his eyes glowing behind his glasses, waiting for me to feed the juicy gossip.
“You might say that, sir.” I paused, realizing the dual meaning behind my words. “Well, that's the last of them.”
He smiled politely, a
little less enthused. I think he got the message. I was there for business, not to spark rumors about my gracious host.
I knew full well how fast gossip spread in a little town like this. I'd seen it a thousand times back in Montana.
The cold storage room he led me to felt good for the first few minutes. But after awhile, it started freezing my skin. I watched him smile sheepishly and move his jaw.
The old man was chewing something. Tobacco, I thought at first, but then I smelled it.
Cinnamon gum, or some kind of candy a lot like it. Thank God it wasn't blueberry.
After my beating, and the way Anderson Dugan leered at me with murderous intent painted on his face, I'd never handle that scent well again.
Anderson. Where the hell are you? I wondered.
And just how long am I gonna be stuck making runs before I can get out there and track you down?
I hadn't done runs alone since I was nineteen on my parent's ranch, and never driving such an old truck. Late evening came, beautiful and mysterious as my new temporary home.
I was almost back to Misty's place with a few old tractor parts she asked me to pick up. Not far from the fence that marked my painful entrance into her world, I saw it.
The silvery steel marker flashed brightly in the setting sun. It could've easily been a piece of scrap metal blown in by a storm or a utility repair sign missing its flag, but I knew it wasn't either of those.
I spun the wheel and stomped on the brakes. The old truck rumbled to a halt on the dusty shoulder.
I popped the door and climbed out. Walking toward it with my hands on my knees, my chest tightened, and I waited to collect my prize in a grim lottery.
The two foot metal was about the width of my forearm. My face twisted like I'd bitten into a sour lime when I saw what I'd been expecting.
It was a cartoonish skull engraved near the top. A fat tongue wagged out of its mouth, beneath a cranium striped like tiger's skin.
“Bold SOBs. Coming this close to active farms to do your dirty work, even if this is the middle of nowhere...”
I didn't realize I'd instinctively grabbed the new hat I picked up in town off the passenger seat. I practically crushed it against my thigh. My breaths became ragged, hard, shallow.
The Alpha's Touch Boxed Set (14 Book Bundle) Page 79
