“I’ll get dressed,” she called out to him. “I just looked at your bedside table clock and we really do have to get going. I’m surprised nobody’s tried to call either one of us.”
“I turned off my cell.” When he walked back in she had her panties on and was reaching behind her back to fasten her bra. Funny how this didn’t feel like an affair. Her being here was so natural, as if this was where she was supposed to be.
“And mine is . . .” She paused to glance around. “You know what? It’s still in my saddlebag.” She grinned at him. “No wonder I didn’t hear it.”
“Is that a problem?” He began putting on his clothes, too.
“Nah. I have a reputation for turning off my cell when I’m sketching. But I don’t know what excuse you’re planning to give for not answering.”
He shrugged. “I turned it off when we were out riding and forgot to turn it back on.” He fastened his jeans and located his shirt. “But that brings up another subject. Are we keeping this whole deal a secret?”
“Are you kidding?” She tugged her shirt over her head. “There are no secrets in Bickford, at least not for long.” Popping her head through the opening, she glanced at him. “But if you’re worried about fallout, we can try.”
“That only makes it seem as if we’re ashamed of what we’re doing. I’d like to be up-front about our relationship. That doesn’t mean I’m not worried about fallout. If you and I get crossways . . .” Because she was using the chair to put on her boots, he perched on the edge of the bed to put on his.
“We won’t get crossways.” She put on her second boot and stood. “I know what’s at stake for you. You love it here and hope to stay. I’m not going to let our situation mess with that.”
He was touched by her determination. “Relationships can get complicated. Differences can crop up that neither one anticipated. Then, before they know what happened, the two people involved have issues.”
“I’m not saying that’s impossible. But I am promising you that I won’t let whatever goes on between us jeopardize your job or your place in this community.” She turned around to straighten the sheets and comforter.
If he hadn’t already fallen, he would have dived headlong into love after hearing that little speech. She was one of the least selfish people he’d ever met. On top of that, she instinctively wanted to tidy up after herself instead of leaving chaos in her wake.
He’d married someone who had constantly created a disaster zone and then had sailed out the door. Blinded by lust, he hadn’t paid attention, but he did now. He lusted after Anastasia, but that didn’t mean he was blind, deaf, and dumb. Sometimes it was the little things that gave clues about who a person was.
He walked to the other side of the bed and helped her make it up. “How soon can you get away from Sadie’s tonight?”
“I promised to stay through happy hour, so is seven too late?”
“Nope. I’ll pick you up.”
She smiled at him across the broad expanse of the bed. “That will start tongues wagging.”
“No doubt, but between now and then, I’ll have a talk with Vince. I think Travis has already left for New Mexico, but I’ll fill him in when he gets back. I don’t want any significant people in our lives to be surprised.”
“Neither do I. And I’ll talk to Georgie.”
“Okay.” Despite his outward confidence as to how they should proceed, that made him nervous. “What if she’s upset?” He’d tasted paradise, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.
“I doubt she will be, especially if she’s convinced our being together won’t hurt me in any way.”
“I’d die first.” The comment surprised him, but it was true. He’d sooner die than hurt her.
She seemed even more surprised to hear it. “I hope that won’t be necessary.” But her gaze was assessing. “I’m not that fragile, Mac. Please promise me you won’t treat me like some delicate porcelain figurine.”
“I certainly didn’t this morning.”
She smiled. “No.”
“I know you’re not fragile, but I cherish you and want the best for you. Maybe that statement came across as overly dramatic, but hurting you is so beyond my comprehension that I can’t imagine it. I would do anything to avoid that.”
“Just don’t go hurling yourself off a bridge.”
“That’s difficult to pull off in West Texas. Unless you time it to the rainy season, you end up eating a mouthful of dust.”
She laughed. “So true. It’s tough to make a dramatic exit around here, so you might as well stick it out.”
He walked around the foot of the bed and drew her into his arms. “Then we’re agreed. No drama.”
She lifted her face to his. “I pretty much hate drama.”
“Then let’s not have any.” He allowed himself one last kiss, but when it threatened to get out of hand, as kisses involving Anastasia tended to do, he released her and backed away. “Let’s go climb on those horses and get back over to the stable.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Instantly he was concerned. “Are you sore?”
“Maybe a little. I haven’t had this much sex in quite a while.”
“Then forget about sex after dinner. We’ll—”
“Hold on there, cowboy! Don’t go ruining my evening! As I recall, you made reference earlier to oral sex.”
He laughed. Trust her to be direct. “So I did.”
“Then might I suggest we put that on the menu along with whatever you’re preparing for dinner?”
“Absolutely.” The thought of that sent urgent messages to his groin.
“Good. And after we’ve explored those options, I’ll get out my sketch pad.”
“Right.”
“Unless you’d rather I didn’t? I sense some anxiety.”
“Once we’ve had a chance to romp around for a while, I’ll be fine about that. I just don’t want you drawing me when I’m . . .”
“Aroused?”
“Exactly.”
She gazed at him with those incredible eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Mac. Drawing your magnificent body is about beauty, not titillation. Besides, I don’t want to share that image of arousal with the world. It’s private and special.”
“Thank you.” She’d said something similar before, but it hadn’t completely registered. He felt safe now. He’d never believed that she’d exploit him in the name of art, but now he knew that for sure.
“I should be thanking you. In spite of being reluctant, you’ve agreed that I can sketch you in the nude. You’re trusting me not to do anything with those pictures that would embarrass you. I don’t take that trust lightly.”
“I know.” He pulled her close. “Forgive me for being jumpy. Now that we’ve talked it to death, I’m eager to find out how you’d depict me when my cock is determinedly limp. You’ve mostly seen it the other way.”
She traced the line of his mouth with her forefinger. “Which has made me very happy.”
“And me. I’ve never had a better morning.” With a sigh of resignation, he stepped back. “But we need to get back to the corral. After you.” He ushered her down the hallway.
“What’s involved with preparing for the trail ride?”
“We’ll clean the tack. Then we’ll spiffy up the horses. Vince likes to use the wash rack on all of them so they sparkle.”
“I’d love to see that.”
“Wish you could, too, but today should be lucrative for you with the trail riders in town.”
“It will be. And this is the last time I’ll feel like a fraud every time I sell a rendering of the Ghost.”
“Anastasia, I can’t promise that we’ll see him.”
“We will.”
He hoped to hell they did. If he had it in his power to command the Ghost to appear, he
’d do it.
She glanced back at him as she opened the door. “Just think, if I hadn’t broken my pattern of sleeping late, I’d have less chance to see him.”
“Do you think you’ll start sleeping in after the riding lessons are over?” He followed her out the door.
“I don’t know.” She laughed. “That might depend on who I’m sleeping with.”
“I see.” His pulse rate kicked up. He’d asked her to dinner and he’d suggested some after-dinner entertainment, but that was the extent of his long-range planning. He’d toyed with the idea of going out Sunday night instead of Monday morning, but he hadn’t committed to it in his mind. If she packed a bag and spent the weekend with him, that would simplify everything.
Or complicate everything. If he woke at dawn tomorrow with Anastasia in his bed, he might not be so eager to crawl out of it and go for a horseback ride. He’d probably have other activities in mind.
But that wasn’t the only issue that occurred to him as they walked out to the corral. Except for the apartment he’d shared with Sophie during their brief marriage, he’d lived in bunkhouses his entire adult life. By default, then, he’d mostly had sex at the woman’s house or apartment.
He wasn’t in the habit of staying over, either, especially after his divorce. That would remind him too much of life with Sophie. When it came to actually sleeping with a woman, as opposed to having sex with her, he was woefully out of practice. Not to say he didn’t want Anastasia to spend the weekend, but he had to think about it.
He helped her catch Jasper and made sure the big roan didn’t go anywhere while she saddled and bridled him. She was getting great at the process, though. He loved how intently she applied herself and the obvious bond that was growing between her and Jasper.
She mounted up all by herself and gazed down at him. “You’ve gone into strong, silent mode, there, cowboy. Was it my comment about sleeping with you that caused that to happen?”
“Yes.” He saw no point in dodging the question. “But—”
“I didn’t mean to be pushy. I certainly won’t stay over if that would be a problem.”
“I want you to.” The statement rang true the minute he said it. So what if he was out of practice? Considering the lack of eligible males in Bickford the last few years, she’d be out of practice, too.
“In fact, I’d like you to stay all weekend.” Nudging back his hat, he rested his hand on her thigh as he looked up at her. “I can’t think of anything more wonderful than waking up next to you in the morning.”
She flushed. “I’m still not a morning person, you know. So I won’t be—”
“Oh, yes, you will.” He caressed her thigh. “You might be blurry-eyed and fuzzy-headed, but you’ll also be cute and tempting. That’s partly why I hesitated. We have trail rides we need to take, and I might . . . get distracted.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” Her eyes got all sparkly again. “Well, tomorrow will be different because of the Wild Horse Canyon ride going out. We can either rush to beat them to the stable or . . . not.”
“Hmm. Good point.” His groin tightened.
“As for Sunday, would it matter so much if we start our trail ride slightly later than usual?”
He grinned. “Guess not.”
“Monday morning is the critical one for an early start, right?”
“It is, unless. . . . Listen, is there any chance you’d want to skip your happy hour sketching time at Sadie’s on Sunday?”
“Why?”
“Once the trail riders are back and the coast is clear, we could ride out late in the afternoon and camp in the box canyon. That would give you two chances to see the Ghost, in the evening and first thing in the morning.”
Excitement flashed in her eyes. “I love that plan! Let’s do it.”
“Ever camped before?”
“Nope, but you have. You can show me the ropes.”
“It’s easy.” Damn, this was going to be fun. “Just zip two sleeping bags together and you’re all set.”
She smiled. “We’re going to have sex in the great outdoors, aren’t we?”
“Yes, ma’am, we are.”
“Excellent. I’ve always wanted to.” She grew thoughtful. “We just have to figure out how I can get my clothes and stuff to your house tonight. I’m not going to roll a suitcase down Main Street on my way to Sadie’s.”
“No, you’re not. Maybe we aren’t keeping this a secret, but there’s such a thing as being too obvious. I’ll pick you up at Sadie’s in my truck and we’ll fetch your suitcase from your house.”
“Perfect.”
“Yeah, I do believe it will be.” He’d avoided this kind of entanglement for so long that he should probably be worried about whether spending the weekend with her was a good idea. Maybe the great sex had scrambled his brain, because he wasn’t worried at all.
CHAPTER 22
As Mac had predicted, Anastasia had plenty of customers wanting portraits done that afternoon. She had to put an OUT TO LUNCH sign on her table so that she could grab a quick sandwich. She didn’t want to arrive at Mac’s house starving, at least not starving for food. She might arrive famished for his brand of lovemaking, though.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him and all those wonderful orgasms. Either her theory about establishing a good visual beforehand had worked spectacularly, or Mac was the best lover she’d ever had. She suspected it was a little of both.
About halfway through the afternoon, she made another sign that read BACK SOON so she could call Georgie. The next challenge was finding a private spot to make that call. She’d rather not be overheard telling her big sister that Mac had asked her to spend the weekend with him.
At last she remembered the hotel breakfast room, which wasn’t used for much else. She walked across the lobby and through the double doors. Sure enough, the eight tables sat empty and the room was deserted.
She chose to stand, though. This was the kind of call where she might need to pace a little. She didn’t like having to contact Georgie at the general store, but if she didn’t do it now, the afternoon could get away from her. Georgie wouldn’t like hearing this news from someone else.
When Georgie answered her cell, she sounded busy. “Hi. Can you hold on a sec? I’m ringing up a big order.”
“Sure.” Anastasia walked over to the bay window, which looked out on Main Street. At last the town was the way she remembered it from when she’d been a kid growing up here. Her mother and Charmaine had complained that they lived in Podunksville, but she’d always loved it.
She could walk everywhere and knew everyone. Yeah, the Bickford kids had to be bused to school in Amarillo, but she’d used that time to draw. After the bus let them off in the afternoon at the end of Main Street, she’d stop at the ice-cream parlor for a sundae if the weather was nice, and for a cup of hot chocolate if it wasn’t. Good memories.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?” Georgie’s voice snapped her out of her reverie.
“I’ll make it quick.” She kept her voice down even though she doubted anyone could hear her. “I’m spending the weekend at Mac’s house and I wanted you to—”
“Spending the weekend?” She said it pretty loud.
“Georgie, is anybody in the store?”
“Um, yeah.” This time her sister’s voice was much softer. “Sorry about that. Maybe she won’t make the connection.”
“Who won’t?”
“Ida.”
“Georgie!”
Her sister said something else, but now she was talking so faintly Anastasia couldn’t make out the words. “You’re overcompensating. Now I can barely hear you.”
“I’ll step into the back room. There, that’s better. I said you took me by surprise. I’ve been expecting something to happen, but I didn’t think you’d go from nothing at all to spending the entire weeke
nd with him.”
“Well, I’m not going from nothing at all, exactly.”
“You’re not? Seriously? So when did you—”
“This morning, after our ride. We went over to his house.”
“Nice! Must have been pretty special if you’re committing to an entire weekend with him.”
Anastasia’s cheeks grew warm. “It was amazing.”
“Oh, I’m glad.” George laughed softly. “So very glad for you, sis. You deserve amazing.”
“Thanks.” She debated saying something about Georgie’s pregnancy, which couldn’t be much of a secret anymore, considering the immediacy of the wedding plans and Georgie’s new habit of ordering club soda at Sadie’s instead of her usual red wine. But the phone didn’t seem the right venue for discussing it.
“Can’t wait to talk to you when I get back from the trail ride. Oops, gotta go. Ida’s calling for me. She must have finally decided which sparkly T-shirt she wants. Have fun this weekend.” Georgie disconnected.
Anastasia turned off her phone. Ida’s sharp ears and keen powers of observation would probably lead her to the right conclusion about the person Georgie had been talking to and what the topic had been. But now that Georgie had been informed, it really didn’t matter who else knew. Mac was a great guy and she was proud to be romantically linked with him.
When she returned to her table at Sadie’s, a woman paced nearby, clearly waiting for her. She wore beige slacks, a white silk blouse, and fashionable high-heeled boots. Her dark hair was cut in an asymmetrical style that was both sleek and sophisticated.
She glanced at Anastasia and brightened. “Great! You’re back.”
“Sorry if I kept you waiting. I had to make a phone call.” She couldn’t judge the woman’s age, but she was probably somewhere between midthirties and midforties.
“No worries. I’ve been hanging around Sadie’s watching you work, and just when I decided to come over and talk to you, you ducked out.”
“Were you interested in a portrait?”
“Actually, no, although that might be fun sometime.” She adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse and held out her hand. “I’m Kathryn Abernathy. Ryan Nesbitt’s my boss and he sent me over here.”
Wild About the Wrangler Page 23
