Million Dollar Cowboy

by Lori Wilde

  “Back off,” Ridge growled.

  “Don’t you tell me what to do,” Duke yelled like a pissed-off bull, lowered his head and charged.

  Sighing, Ridge sidestepped his father’s attempted gut attack, doubled up a fist and delivered a quick controlled jab to Duke’s left cheek. And he went down like a sack of spuds.

  Yep, bachelor party from hell.

  “Day-am, Ridge.” Zeke scratched the back of his neck. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  Chapter 10

  The bachelorette pajama party at the Lockhart mansion was in full swing when Ridge and Ranger hauled a drunken Duke into the house.

  Music blasted from the sound system. Scrapbooking supplies were spread out on the kitchen table. Empty bottles of wine and cartons of Ben & Jerry’s were lined up on the counter. Nail polish, cuticle tools, cotton balls, and toe separators were laid out from the mani and pedicures they’d given each other earlier in the night.

  From the minute Kaia saw Ridge’s face, she knew the bachelor party had not gone well, and it was all she could do not to run to him.

  Vivi rushed to take a grumbling, stumbling Duke from his sons and usher him to the master bedroom. Archer and Casey huddled in the corner sharing low whispers and stolen kisses. Tara, Ember, and Aria read the situation correctly, that the festivities were over, and began cleaning up. Ranger joined them.

  Kaia met Ridge’s turbulent, troubled eyes across the room. He turned away, headed for the front door. An emotion she couldn’t name settled in the pit of her stomach, churned hard.

  In hushed tones, Ranger revealed what had happened at Chantilly’s between Ridge and Duke.

  Kaia couldn’t leave it alone. She had to go after Ridge, never mind that she was in a Minnie Mouse nightgown and leggings.

  Without making an excuse, she slipped out the front door, closing it softly behind her. There was a light breeze in the air and she wrapped her arms around her, scanned the expanse of arid land. The moon was a sliver of almond in the sky, and it took her eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness.

  She didn’t see Ridge at first, but he didn’t have a vehicle of his own, and both Archer’s SUV and Duke’s Ford King Ranch pickup were parked in the yard. He couldn’t have gone far.

  “Ridge?” she called.

  No answer.

  In the distance she heard coyotes howl, and from the barn across the way, a horse nickered. Had he gone into the stables?

  She started in that direction, but spied movement near Ridge’s plane. She stopped, peered into the gloom. He stood in the shadows watching her.

  “Hey,” she whispered, drawing nearer to him.

  “Hey.” He was leaning his shoulders against the side of the plane, looking cagy and mysterious.

  “Are you okay?”

  He shrugged so slightly she wasn’t sure he’d even done it. She moved closer until she could see the whites of his eyes in the dim lighting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “So Minnie Mouse, huh?” He smiled like he had sexual fantasies about Minnie Mouse, but maybe that was just her imagination.

  “It was either this or my Ruff Night sleep shirt with cartoon dogs on it. Minnie Mouse was newer.”

  “The Ruff Night suits you better.”

  Silence dropped like a curtain. She stood there, not saying anything, arms folded over her chest. Waiting to see if he’d fill the empty space.

  He did not.

  A minute passed. Two. Three.

  Clearly, he was not going to start the conversation. She had three choices. Keep quiet. Leave. Or say something.

  Kaia took a deep breath, plunged in. “You punched your father?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Knowing Duke, I’m sure he had it coming, but—”

  “I shouldn’t have done it,” he said his voice heavy with the weight of what he’d done, regret etching lines on his face. “But Duke was so drunk and worked up. He kept swinging at me and missing and knocking into things. I was scared he was going to hurt himself. A controlled punch seemed better than letting him flail wildly.”

  “This has been years in the making,” she said softly, lacing her tone with extra kindness.

  “That too,” he admitted.

  “Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “Who says I am?”

  “I know you,” she said. “You put on this tough, I-don’t-care act, but inside you feel things deeply. I’ve got two sympathetic ears. I’m a good listener. It’s safe to unload.”

  He sized her up. “Go back to your party.”

  “It’s winding down.”

  “I ruined the fun.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything.” She reached out, touched his arm.

  Instantly, his muscles tensed beneath her fingers. Her knees quivered, and so did other, more feminine parts of her, parts of her that had been dormant for a long time, parts of her that ached to wake up and live again.

  His eyes glittered. “You’re playing with fire, Kaia.”

  The way he said her name drew a hot, slow shiver down her spine to lodge in her pelvis. What did he mean by that? Her heart thudded.

  “Ridge,” she whispered, curling her hand around his forearm.

  “Please,” he said in a clipped tone. “Just let me be.”

  “I know you’re feeling badly about your dad, I—”

  “That’s not it.” His voice was rough, husky.

  Undaunted by the turbulence in his eyes, she held tight. “What is it then?”

  “You.”

  She dipped her head, studying him speculatively. “What about me?”

  “You’re what’s driving me crazy.”

  She stared into his eyes. Run. Run like hell before it’s too late. But she didn’t run. Instead, an insane part of her stepped closer. “Oh yeah?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said thickly, his eyelids half-closed. “Whenever I’m around you all I can think about is kissing you.”

  “Wh … wh … wh … ?” she stammered, gulped, let go of his arm, stepped back.

  He allowed his arm to drop heavily against his side, his gaze never leaving hers. “Does that scare you?”

  Hell yes!

  “Kaia.”

  “Yes?”

  He crooked a finger, grinned. “C’mere.”

  She shook her head, but her feet, oh damn those feet, flew to him. She breathed. “Ridge.”

  “You’re the only one who came to see if I was okay,” he said.

  “It’s not that they don’t care. People just don’t know how to take you.”

  “But you do,” he said.

  “I have an advantage.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The power of the Braterminator. If I hadn’t followed you and Archer around for half my life I wouldn’t understand you the way I do.”

  “How do you know? Maybe I’ve changed.”

  “You haven’t.”

  “You sound pretty confident.”

  “I am.” She fell into his eyes, like Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole.

  It was true. She understood him more than he knew. Understood that he viewed the world as a contest that he could win if he just worked hard enough and gathered all the trappings of success—a house, a plane, expensive sunglasses. He was eager and responsible and goal-oriented, persistent, organized, and passionate about his work.

  On the flip side he could be a hard taskmaster, as much to himself as anyone else. He put work ahead of people. He was climbing, climbing, climbing, grasping for the ultimate brass ring that only he could define.

  But Kaia knew something he did not. Once he reached that brass ring it would turn to dust in his hand. No achievement, no high-flying goal could ever sate the hole in him. Until he understood that, he would always be on the treadmill, working harder and harder for the elusive self-worth that would forever be out of his reach.

  It broke her heart.

  She understood because she
too had been a workaholic, until the accident and what had happened afterward. It had changed her irrevocably and shifted her misaligned priorities.

  Yes, she still wanted to get her doctorate in veterinarian medicine. It was her top goal. But what had changed was her motivation. Before the accident, she’d wanted to be a vet not just because she loved animals, but because the career was how she saw herself earning respectability.

  Now?

  Her only motive was to lead a better life. Becoming a vet would help her do that, but in the meantime, she could support herself doing what she loved most, taking care of animals, whether she had her degree or not.

  That was the bottom line. Loving wherever she happened to be on the path. Not wistful for the past or dreaming of the future, but accepting, loving, and embracing the present moment.

  And right now she was standing in the dark in front of an airplane with the man she’d had a crush on since she was a kid, and he was looking at her like she was something special.

  As if he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “I shouldn’t have come back. I’m ruining Archer and Casey’s wedding. First this.” He gestured at his black eye. “And tonight, getting in a fight with my dad. Everyone would have been better off if I’d stayed away.”

  “Not true,” Kaia said. “We’re all glad you’re home.”

  “Not Duke.”

  “Yes he is. He’s just too ornery to admit it. Look at it this way. He picked a fight with you. He must be feeling something if he bothered to pick a fight.”

  “You’re such an optimist.” Ridge chuckled, but it was a hollow, unhappy sound.

  “You came home. It was a big step. Pat yourself on the back for that. No matter what bumps you hit in the road, you made the effort. You showed up. That’s good enough.”

  “Doesn’t feel good enough.”

  “Feelings change and shift. They’re not permanent.”

  “Ride ’em out, huh?” He gave her a half smile. That smile, combined with the black eye, made him look totally roguish.

  “Something along those lines.”

  He was so close she could feel his radiating body heat. Sweat beaded between her breasts, trickled down her cleavage, turning her bare skin damp and salty. Her heart dashed at an alarming pace.

  Yep, she was blistering, sweltering, stewing.

  And he? Cucumbers weren’t as cool as this guy. He didn’t appear the slightest bit ruffled or disturbed. In fact, that cocky grin widened, as if he were fully in control. Which he was, because her legs were bobbing and her lungs couldn’t seem to pull in enough of the clear night air.

  He lowered his head, but never took his gaze from hers and his mouth softened and widened and he moistened his lips and she thought, God, he’s gonna do it, he’s gonna kiss me.

  Her heart was slamming madly against her ribs, knock, knock, knocking. She could have run. She could have ducked. She could have hollered “Stop!”

  But Kaia did none of those things.

  Instead, she went up on her tiptoes, leaned in and moistened her lips too. Her entire body throbbed like an exposed nerve, burning, tingling, achy, and sore with need. She needed him. Desperately.

  “Ridge,” she whispered his name again. “Ridge.”

  He dipped his head lower still, and panic flooded her bloodstream. He was going to do it. He was going to kiss her. Yes he was. A kiss she’d been dreaming of for more than a dozen years.

  He sank his big hands on her shoulders. They were heavy, strong, anchoring her to the earth.

  Her legs were rubber bands. She had no idea how they were even holding her up. And the rest of her? She was swimming in heat. Red zone. She knew that. Temperatures rising. Trouble, trouble, trouble. The dam was going to break. Danger!

  Impossible to explain how scared she was, and still, she did not run.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist.

  She sucked in an audible breath, debated her sanity.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, and for the first time, he looked affected by what was going on between them. Their gazes were chained together and if a bomb were to detonate right beside them, Kaia doubted they would even notice.

  A cloud slid across the sky, drawing a curtain over the slender moon, splashing everything in blackness.

  “Kaia.” He groaned.

  “Yes?”

  “Shh.”

  His mouth found hers easily in the dark, and he let out a low laugh as if completely delighted by what he found.

  Her breath grew short as sizzling hot tingles swept from his lips to hers. It was an immediate and insistent chemical reaction. Urgent signals of yearning shot up and down her nerve endings. Vibrating sensation blasted over her cheeks and nose, a face mask of lightning. Brilliant pulses of indigo light throbbed before her eyes, multiplying rapidly until her entire body was engulfed with the hard, insistent thunder of sexual energy.

  Her ears buzzed, rang, sang—a clear, high-pitched, joyous sound, heavenly and honeyed. The sound of the universe whirling through space.

  She could not believe what was happening. Tingles. Swirls. Hums. So much humming! Like a million bees swarming her brain, nourishing her with a steadfast drone.

  Him, they buzzed. Him. Him. Him.

  The electricity blazing through her was wild and raw. An urgent primal yearning that both consumed and disoriented her. She wanted to pull back and at the same time rush headlong into the feeling.

  He deepened the kiss and in that deepening, the humming grew louder and louder and louder still.

  Kaia was knocked agog.

  Amazed.

  Terrified.

  Confused.

  All these years, through all the times she’d been kissed, Kaia had not ever experienced anything like this. It left her with a million questions, primary among them:

  What was happening to her?

  His tongue skimmed along hers and it was the single most shocking, unsettling, fascinating, elating, and incredible kiss she’d ever received.

  It occurred to her that she might actually be losing her mind.

  And then she remembered.

  The stories Granny Blue had told her. Stories she’d thought were nothing more than Granny’s fanciful, Native American fairy tales. No different than tales from the Brothers Grimm or Disney princesses.

  Legend. Lore. Myth.

  Based on the fable that when your one true love, your lifelong soul mate kisses you for the first time, you will hear a sweet, ethereal, incomparable song in your head; a sound as solid and sure and unmistakable as any musical note.

  She heard it now with such substance and clarity, she was ready to declare with MythBusters glee: Myth Confirm! There was such a thing as the Song of the Soul Mate. It did exist.

  At least right now. Here. In her head.

  How could this be? What odd quirk of science or fate had turned her into a human receiver, picking up airwaves thick with this love song?

  Him. Him. Him.

  Every cell in her body vibrated to the humming energy.

  Did Ridge hear it too? She closed her eyes, tried to remember the specific details of Granny Blue’s tale, but Ridge’s mouth was too warm, the urges pushing through her too insistent for her to concentrate on anything but the man claiming her as his own.

  “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

  “Hear what?” he murmured, his eyes heavily lidded, his tone sultry. He dragged his mouth over her jawline, nibbling as he went.

  “Never mind,” she said, and melted against his hard, masculine chest. The hay-sweet air teasing her nostrils, and another scent … the smell of bay rum, male skin, and some exotic, sun-warmed spice like cardamom.

  Running his hand up the back of her neck, spearing the spill of her hair between his fingers, he tilted her head back, urged her mouth open wider. She sighed into the soft heat and tang of him, dissolving into the intimate flavor.

  He plumbed deeper, coaxing a shiver from her, a savory shock of awareness. The humming in her
head escalated, setting her on a steady course to oblivion.

  She didn’t care. She wanted this. Wanted him. If truth be told, she’d wanted him for years. But she could not have ever imagined it being like this.

  His hand moved up her spine, came to rest at her neck where her sleep shirt dipped in the back, touching her bare spine and sending another startling shiver skipping through her. She made an involuntary sound of pleasure. It squeaked from her lungs on a gentle sigh.

  He wore jeans and a Western shirt and a belt buckle that was pressing into her navel. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows revealing tanned arms dusted with black hair. His wrists were muscular, his palm square, fingers broad. The jeans fit him snug, molding around powerful thighs. His lips seared hers, melting her legs straight into the earth.

  She couldn’t have moved if someone had hollered, “Flash fire!”

  Making a low, desperate noise, Ridge swept his tongue into her mouth, exploring at first, then plundering. Taking her fully, completely.

  Kaia had never in her life been kissed like this. Never mind the humming. Although it was as if a chorus of angels were singing “Hallelujah” over a bullhorn. This kiss was an entity unto itself.

  Maybe it was because she’d imagined it for so many years, waited so long for it. Maybe it was because Granny Blue’s legend was true, and this was how she knew she’d found her soul mate. Or maybe it was just because Ridge Lockhart was the hottest thing on two legs and he seemed to feel the same way about her.

  Whatever the cause, she was in heaven.

  It felt so perfect. So right.

  He tasted like her fondest memories—marshmallows roasted over a campfire, homemade peach ice cream eaten on the front porch swing, chilled watermelon slices on a hot August day.

  He tasted both familiar and foreign, like déjà vu in an exotic land you knew you’d never before visited.

  He tasted like all the times she’d wanted to take a walk on the wild side but had been too afraid to step from her comfort zone.

  Or maybe it was all of the above.

  He tasted, quite frankly, of bravery and freedom. He’d been the one to walk away from Cupid. Fly the coop. Make a huge splash in the big world beyond the arid borders of the Trans-Pecos.

  She felt proud and jealous and sad, an odd triad that had her clinging even tighter to him, wanting to suck as much emotion from this moment as she could. Wanting to infuse herself with his life force.