by Laura Moore
“Oh my God, your cowboy’s gone viral!”
She straightened in her chair in surprise. “Anna?”
“Who else? Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit about the video going viral, but it’s pretty sensational. Have you checked the numbers, the reach?”
“No, I haven’t. Phil, who handles reservations and is a big back office numbers cruncher, likes to be in charge of that stuff. And things have been pretty, um, busy around here. Lots going on.”
In all honesty, Armageddon could have been unfolding and Tess probably wouldn’t have noticed. In the three days since she and Ward had first made love she’d yet to catch her breath. She lost it every time Ward kissed her, touched her, or simply looked at her. That lazy gleam in his eyes drove her wild. Even when he wasn’t nearby, he occupied her thoughts—invaded them with the same confidence he did everything else. It left her dazed and happy and smiling.
She hadn’t smiled so much in … never.
“Well, I think your boss is gonna be pleased with the buzz you’ve created. And let me tell you, now that I’ve seen him in action, I’ve got to admit the raw material is mighty fine. Who knew watching a guy on a horse keep a cow away from its buddies could be so darned exciting?”
Tess could list a whole bunch of things Ward could do that were even more exciting. For instance, watching him walk toward her and knowing he was going to take her hand or perhaps slip his arm about her waist and draw her close while his lips unerringly found the pulse at the hollow of her neck could cause her heart to skip and desire to flutter deep inside her. Not just desire but bone-deep happiness—the feeling as beautiful as a flock of birds taking flight, their beating wings caught in a ray of light.
She was so happy she was loopy with it, but at least she had the sense not to blurt out how incredible Ward was. She didn’t want to be charged with deviating from the “It’s Just Sex” route, which anyone listening to her—Anna especially—might quickly suspect.
She wasn’t deviating so much as skirting, a fine but important distinction. She was doing her best to navigate the treacherous territory she found herself in, enjoying every moment with Ward yet still keeping her head and heart. Not an easy task when he made her feel so special, when he was so much more than she’d expected as a lover.
Of course he was stupendous in bed. Anyone who could move as he did, who was graced with his hands and mouth and who possessed any kind of appreciation for the female body, would be pretty hot between the sheets. Or against a wall. Or on a dresser, driving into her to the accompanying beat of the metal handles jangling against the drawers. But Ward could probably blow a woman’s mind in a tent on the lumpy ground—he was that talented.
Though wonderfully impressive, his sexual prowess wasn’t what truly made her have to work so hard at remembering the ground rules she’d laid out for them. It was the little gestures that most likely anyone else but Tess would have assumed was her due, such as bringing her coffee in bed. He would not only do that, but after passing her the steaming cup, he’d stretch out beside her and talk, sharing bits about what he had to do that day on the ranch and at the guest lodge and then asking what was on her agenda. And while they talked, his arm would find its way around her shoulders to caress them. Then his fingers would comb through her tangled hair, stroking it and toying with it. Simple sharing, simple touching.
No man had ever thought to bring her coffee before, not even David. In hindsight she saw that all too soon he’d been far more interested in orchestrating and controlling their time together. He’d always needed to be the star, the bright focal point. Dazzled as she’d been, it hadn’t occurred to her to question the dynamic.
“Ward’s good at a lot of things,” she finally answered, knowing she had to say something in response to Anna’s comment. Though she tried to make her tone stoutly loyal rather than dreamy, her friend was too perceptive.
“Oh, boy! You did the deed, didn’t you? Oh, I am so proud of you, cara! So maybe it’s time to say ‘Mille grazie,’ for sending you to a place where you’d find a cowboy dude to tear up the sheets with.”
Anna was never going to let her forget the role she’d played in landing Tess in Acacia. “Thank you, Anna,” she said obediently.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, all graciousness. “Now I understand why you haven’t been monitoring the stats on your tweets. Share time, girlfriend. You don’t have to give me all the spicy details of what you and your cowboy have been up to, just ninety-nine percent of them. My phone’s fully charged so you can start … now.”
Tess laughed. “First of all, may I remind you that Ward and I are employed full-time? With his parents gone, Ward’s got even more to do at the ranch and the lodge.” Which made how attentive he was to her in and out of bed all the more gratifying.
“Teresa Elisabetta Casari, are you going to make me board a plane?”
“Nothing I’d like better.”
“Me, too. I miss you. God, I might even have to sign up for that cowgirl weekend so I can see some of this wonderful machismo in action.”
“I’d love it. Phil and Reid have decided to hold it on the last weekend in July. Say the word and I’ll reserve a cabin for you.”
“So you’ll be staying through July then. That would bring your stay at Silver Creek up to, wow, six months, right?”
The question made Tess pause. Quickly she tallied the months. Back in January she would have laughed herself silly at the suggestion that she might want stay half a year or even longer in this place. Now there was so much she wanted to do and so many opportunities, both professional and personal, to explore. She felt like she wasn’t just getting experience as an events planner; she was growing as a person.
She shied away from considering how her new relationship with Ward would factor into the equation. To probe deeper would violate the “It’s Just Sex” rules.
Anna was still talking. “Late July, huh? I have tons of vacation time but I’ll have to check the schedule with Giorgio. If that weekend doesn’t work out, I’ll arrange another one, perhaps a romantic getaway for Lucas and me. He’d look so fine in a pair of chaps.” She sighed lustily. “So, Tess, won’t you dish just a teeny bit to get me through the rest of day until Lucas comes home?”
Tess took pity on her. “Okay. The video getting all the buzz? Ward’s a zillion times sexier in the flesh—I mean in person.”
“Of course,” Anna said, her tone as solemn as the grave.
“And, well, he’s very detail oriented.”
“A good thing in a man.”
“And, okay.” She drew a breath. “He’s made me coffee in bed for the past three mornings.”
“Very nice.”
Trust Anna to understand. “And when I told him that I didn’t need any special treatment, he smiled and said, ‘That’s why I like doing it.’ ”
“Oh! I like him!” Anna exclaimed happily. She was silent for a moment. “Do you think he has any Italian in him? Hmm, probably not,” she said, answering her own question. “But we could make him an honorary Italian.”
“He liked your crostata.”
“That settles it then. So you’ve been busy as the bees and the birds—”
“Like I said, only after work.” But Ward didn’t waste a moment of their time alone, Tess thought with a smile. “The guests have been behaving themselves—no medical emergencies, dramas, or destroyed rooms—but there’s a lot going on at the barns. Another foal and three more lambs were born.”
“Yay. You know, I’m really enjoying the ranching life, especially when I don’t actually have to walk into a barn. So we’ll be getting pics of the baby animals on Pinterest?”
“They’ll be there,” Tess promised. “We may hold a contest so that our followers can choose a name for them.” She and Quinn had come up with the plan. “And one of the guests who stayed here, her name’s Madlon Glenn, did these great paintings of the sheep and lambs in the pastures. She’s given me permission to post them.”
; “Cool. How’s the wedding taking shape?”
“Brian and Carrie are coming on Friday. I’ve been busy finalizing all their appointments for the weekend.” If there was a drawback to Brian and Carrie’s impending arrival it was that she and Ward would have less time together. But maybe it was for the best. It would prevent her heart from straying into forbidden territory.
“They’re seeing all the vendors in one weekend?”
“Yeah. I can’t bank on them coming again before the wedding so this is my best chance to ensure they have a real say.”
Anna whistled. “Big weekend for them and you.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them both. I just hope they’re happy with how I’ve arranged things.”
“Why wouldn’t they be? You’ve done an amazing job seeing to all the details long-distance and with practically no time.”
“I suppose. It’s just that Carrie and Brian are so close to Ward. I want everything to go smoothly. Perfectly.” And she wanted Ward and his family to be really pleased they’d placed their faith in her.
“You’re forgetting rule number one. Nothing ever goes perfectly in this business. There’s always some disaster—”
“Don’t even mention that word!”
“—lurking. But don’t worry, you’re super good at dealing with them. Giorgio was always impressed by how calm you’d remain when chaos erupted.”
It was a lesson Tess had learned from being around her brother, Chris. It never helped to add to his agitation.
“Maybe,” she replied. “But it’s much easier to remain levelheaded when it’s not your flub-up, your too-stupid-for-words miscalculation.”
“Nope. I just don’t see that happening, cara.”
“That crystal ball of yours better be telling the truth.”
“You dare to doubt my powers? Oh my God, look at the time! Okay, off to make myself pretty for my urban cowboy. Ciao,” Anna said.
Tess glanced at her watch and nearly leapt from her seat. That was the thing about talking with Anna. An hour conversation with her best friend flew by as if it were propelled by jet fuel. She had to get down to the barns.
Ward had told her he had a surprise for her at the horse barn and that she should wear her jeans. The boots were now an assumed necessity. She had to go change. Grabbing her iPhone in case there was something worthy of photographing, she hurried out.
SHE’D EXPECTED TO find Ward in the horse barn, perhaps standing quietly in one of the large stalls and watching the newest foal nurse. Instead she spotted him in the open area in front of the corral—she had no problem recognizing him in his dark beige cowboy hat, even with the brim pulled low. She could have picked Ward out of an arena filled with studly cowboys dressed in denim and the requisite Stetson. There was just something about him. He was standing beside a man dressed in a plaid shirt and khakis. The stranger was leaning against a little silver car.
Ward looked up at the sound of her footsteps on the gravel. “Hey,” he said. “Tess, this is Mike O’Roarke. He has a car for sale.”
Mike stuck out a hand for Tess to shake. “Yeah. My brothers and I convinced my mom to turn in her driver’s license. She turned eighty last week. And her car doesn’t really suit us—we need truck beds and horsepower to haul heavy loads so we’ve been looking for an interested buyer.”
“Oh.” Tess felt equal parts excitement and bewilderment. This was not what she had been expecting when Ward told her he had a surprise for her. She’d kind of hoped it involved a dark corner in the hayloft. “I’d be happy to look at your mom’s car.”
Mike stepped aside. “Here she is,” he said, gesturing at the compact. “She’s six years old, but only has forty thousand miles on her. Mom really only used her to get groceries, pick up the mail, and drive to the doctor’s and such. But we put new radials on her last December and she’s been well maintained—”
“With regular oil changes,” Ward finished.
Tess shot him a look, but it wasn’t nearly as fierce as it might have been. The man was amazing. How had he managed to find a car for her on top of all his other responsibilities? She tried hard not to stare at the very cute, shiny, undented car before her. She couldn’t believe it was six years old. It looked almost new. On the heels of that thought came dismay. No way could she afford a car this nice.
The men were looking at her expectantly. She realized that she was probably supposed to go kick the nearly new tires and then maybe ask to see under the hood to verify that an engine was actually inside. But she remained where she was.
“Something wrong, Tess?”
Ward’s question brought a flush to her cheeks. “I was just thinking—this car looks really nice. How much are you asking for it, Mr. O’Roarke?”
“Mike,” he corrected. “We’d like to get three thousand for her. But Ward told me that you’re really in need of a car, and that you’ve been relying on Ralph Cummins. No one should have to ride with Ralph more than once in his or her lifetime. So I’d be willing to shave off a couple hundred.”
She could handle that price. “I think that sounds doable.”
Mike smiled. “Okay then. You want to take her for a test drive?”
She let her gaze travel over the car. It really was adorable.
“Sure,” she replied at the same time as Ward laid a hand on her arm and said, “Would you mind waiting an hour, Mike? Reid’s around. I’m sure he’s up for a beer or two. Tess and I were about to go riding.”
“What?”
Tess was still in a state of shock twenty minutes later. Mike had gone off to find Reid, and Ward had guided her into the corral, where he was fiddling with the saddle on one of the two horses tied to the rail, a big dark horse that looked as solid as a tank. And to Tess twice as big.
“So, you ready?”
“Haven’t I had my surprise for the day? The car is great. You can stop there.”
Ward laughed infuriatingly. “I’d like to introduce you to Brocco.” He patted the horse on the neck with a hearty slap that it acknowledged by blowing heavily out of its nostrils. Tess wasn’t charmed. “He’s going to be taking you on a trail ride this afternoon—after you take a couple of turns in the corral.”
Forget charmed, she was horrified. She didn’t want to be introduced to this shaggy behemoth of a horse, let alone ride the thing. She’d come a long way in the animals-aren’t-going-to-bite-or-stampede-me department, but there were limits.
Still, she’d have to let Ward down gently. It would be awful to hurt his feelings.
She gave him a bright smile. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. After I take a ride in my new car—you know, the reliable, inanimate object—I have to get back to planning the whole cowgirls’ weekend with Quinn. But my research is complete. I’ve learned more than I ever thought about what cowgirls like to get up to on a ranch. No need to get on a horse’s back. Though he certainly is, um, impressive.”
The corner of Ward’s mouth lifted in amusement. “Brocco is the bravest, gentlest soul you’ll ever meet. I tell you, Angie’s rabid in comparison.”
She fought a grin at the image of sweet fuzzy Angie as a rabid beast. “I don’t think you should talk about Angie that way. There must be some law against defaming lambs.”
“Just stating facts. Brocco’s the perfect horse for you to learn to ride on. I want to show you how much fun riding is, Tess. You’re going to love it.”
She shook her head. He was doing an excellent job selling the idea, but she was skeptical to the marrow of her bones. “I know as much as I need to about riding. I see the guests limp into the lodge after a trail ride and hear them groan as they sit down, complaining about their sore backs, legs, and butts.” She raised her brows. “Those being the only body parts they’re willing to mention in public.”
He rested his elbows on the top rail and leaned forward, the brim of his hat nearly grazing her forehead. His eyes gleamed wicked and intent. “And what if I promise to kiss every sore inch of you, kiss you and make you all be
tter?” he asked in a husky tone, and just like that, all the oxygen left her brain in one big whoosh as she imagined his mouth moving carefully and slowly over each tender spot, bestowing hot, healing kisses. She knew he’d be most thorough in his ministrations.
She eyed the horse named Brocco dolefully. “It must be snowing in hell.”
He grinned. “That’s my girl. You won’t regret it.”
Since the day Tess had rolled up to Silver Creek in that smoke-belching disaster of an automobile, Ward had recognized she had pluck and grit in spades. Even had the car she’d driven been brand-spanking new, Ward didn’t know many women who’d have the courage to pack up and leave their city, job, friends, family, and connections for a completely new life where she knew not a soul. Moreover, she didn’t boast—she simply shrugged the subject of her coming to Acacia off by saying that she’d needed a change.
Her explanation was too simple. Lots of people wanted to change their lives; few had the guts to pull up stakes and test themselves as she had. He thought of her traveling alone for thousands of miles in that piece-of-crap car, which was most likely held together with duct tape, superglue, and coat hangers. That she’d made it past New Jersey was a miracle. His blood ran cold thinking about what could have happened to her had she broken down on some isolated stretch of road.
And she continued to face her fears. Right now she was staring the biggest one—physically, at least—in the face.
“You ever patted a horse before?”
She made a face. “Like the horses that pull the carriages through Central Park or the horses the mounted police ride? Those things are huge, bigger even than Brocco here, and by the way, I think I’ll need an escalator to get on top of him.”
She tended to run off at the mouth when she was nervous, which only proved how brave she was because she hadn’t ducked through the corral’s rails to gain the safety of the other side.
“Won’t need one,” he answered. He probably sounded annoyingly cheerful to her, but being around her made him happy. He’d begun to realize it wasn’t only when he was making love to her that he felt this extraordinary sense of rightness. It was there whenever she was near.
