“I don’t know how a girl’s supposed to walk away from a guy who describes her as a sunbeam. Nobody’s ever said something like that to me before.”
He couldn’t let her go down that road. “That’s because you’ve spent most of your time in Bickford. See what happens when you get to Tinsel Town. Guys will come up with way better compliments than that.”
“But they might not mean them as sincerely as you do.” Warmth shone in her eyes.
“Oh, I think they will. You’re a charmer, Anastasia Bickford.” He looked at her in the soft glow of twilight and knew he was going to remember this bittersweet moment for a long time. “And the world’s waiting for you.”
“Why do you have to be so noble?”
Because I love you. “It’s not noble. It’s realistic. If I tried to keep you from leaving, you’d eventually get restless and might resent the fact I’d encouraged you to stay. There’s not enough of a challenge for you here.”
“Mac, I—”
“I think the food’s ready.” Another few seconds and he was liable to kiss her, which wouldn’t help the situation. Giving her hand a squeeze, he released it so he could pick up their beer bottles. “We might as well take these in and drink them with dinner.” He ushered her back into the house.
“I’m trying to remember if a man has ever made me dinner.” She walked into the living room. “I mean, besides Henry, and that’s his job. I think this is a first.”
“But no pressure, right?”
“None. I’m not a picky eater.”
“Good thing. Go straight ahead and you’ll end up in my kitchen. I don’t have a dining room.”
“You don’t need one. I like this house, Mac. It has good bones, as they say.”
“I’ll like it better once the carpet’s gone.” He’d be working a lot on his house this winter. It could well be his saving grace after she left town.
She gestured around the living room. “Just look at this! You have a great rock fireplace and awesome beamed ceilings. Your house has an Old West feel that speaks to me.”
“Me, too.” He realized that she was his first official guest, and she was reacting exactly the way he had to the house when he’d first looked at it. “I’m a cowboy, after all.”
“Yes, you are, and I like that in a guy.” She walked into his kitchen and sniffed. “Lasagna?”
“Bingo.”
She turned to him. “You must have noticed me ordering it a lot at Sadie’s.”
Of course he had. He’d noticed everything about her. “Fortunately it’s something I know how to fix and I could put it in the oven before picking you up.” It was one of his favorite meals.
As closely as he’d observed her over the past few months, he’d never admitted to himself how often they agreed on things. He had to encourage her to take that job, but damn, she was everything he’d ever dreamed of. He couldn’t assume that he was everything she’d ever dreamed of, though. Some guy in L.A. might be perfect for her.
“Can I do anything?”
“Nope. Just take a seat.” He brought over the lasagna pan and a bowl of tossed salad with bottled dressing and set them on the small wooden table. He only had two chairs, but that was enough. “Want some water?”
“No, this is great. Sit down.” She took a deep breath. “The food smells delicious and I’m starving.”
The simple act of breathing, which lifted her breasts and made him aware of her cleavage, was all it took. He was ready to abandon the meal and drag her into his bedroom. He would not. As she’d instructed, he sat down and picked up his beer. “We should toast your job offer.”
“Maybe I’ll hate L.A. and come straight home.”
“No, you won’t.” He lifted his bottle. “To doors opening.”
She touched her bottle to his. “To everything that’s made that possible.” She drank and put down her beer. “If you three hadn’t come to town last spring, we wouldn’t have a revitalized economy, and I wouldn’t have started drawing again. You were my first inspiration, the portrait I simply had to get down on paper.”
He sipped his beer. “Right place, right time.”
“You think I’ll go off to Hollywood and forget all about you, but I won’t.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. I won’t forget you.” Breaking eye contact, she tucked into the lasagna and moaned in appreciation.
Predictably, that moan had an effect on him, so he concentrated on his meal and controlled his reaction. “We should probably talk about our planned ride into the canyon Sunday afternoon. Do you still want to? Is it important anymore?”
She swallowed quickly. “Damn right it is. Do you think this changes my focus?”
“Of course it does. Georgie’s wedding is a priority, but maybe going out to see a wild stallion doesn’t make so much sense now.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve changed my sleep patterns and fought my demons so that I can ride Jasper into the canyon to see the Ghost. Hollywood or no Hollywood, I’ll by God have a personal sighting with the sketches to prove it!”
He smiled. “Good to know.”
“In fact, if I take this job, I don’t want to abandon Wild Horse Canyon Adventures. I won’t be able to do the portraits in Sadie’s anymore, but I’d like to keep supplying sketches of the Ghost if I have time.”
“You might not have time. How about signed and numbered prints?”
She paused, her fork in midair. “Prints. That’s the obvious answer, and I didn’t think of it because only well-known artists sell numbered prints. I didn’t put myself in that category.”
“You’d better start putting yourself there.” Her comment told him what he’d suspected all along. She didn’t yet grasp how her life had changed. She definitely needed to go into this job with nothing and nobody tying her down.
“If I’m going to consider doing prints, the trip to see the Ghost is even more important. I’m not making multiple copies of work I consider fraudulent. But the sketch I do after I’ve seen him—that one will be worth making into a numbered print.”
“Then I’m glad we’re going out there on Sunday.” He glanced at her empty plate. “More lasagna?”
“It was delicious, but I’m saving room for dessert.”
He groaned. “That’s what I forgot. I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything for dessert.”
She gave him the smoldering look she’d promised earlier in the day. “That’s what you think, cowboy.”
Good thing he could take a hint. He left the dishes on the table. He’d deal with them later. Right now he had the great privilege of sharing his bed with Anastasia and that took precedence over everything else.
In the soft light of his bedside lamps, they undressed each other eagerly. They’d made love only hours ago, and yet it seemed so much longer than that. This morning he’d thought they were beginning something special. Now he had to face an ending that was already in sight.
He’d imagined they’d take it slower tonight, but after her announcement about the job, slow wasn’t working for him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and he was hot and tight with desire. As the last articles of clothing hit the floor, he pulled her into his arms. “Forgive me, but I just need—”
“Me, too.” Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed against him. “You get the condom. I’ll pull back the covers.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
“And a man after mine.” She kissed him hard on the mouth before wiggling out of his arms.
He wasn’t after her heart, not really. He didn’t want her to fall in love with him because that would make her life more difficult. But as he finished rolling on the condom and climbed into bed with her, he looked into her eyes and discovered an emotion that made his breath hitch.
She didn’t try to hide it, either. A
pparently she didn’t care if he knew. By all rights he should glance away. A smart man would break the connection before she caught on that he was in the same boat. But he couldn’t seem to do that.
Instead he held her gaze as he moved over her and nestled between her thighs. Poised for that first thrust, he took a steadying breath. Her expression grew even more radiant and her smile trembled as she caressed the tense muscles of his back.
Somehow he knew she wouldn’t say the words, just as he wouldn’t. But they were there in her eyes and surely in his, too. Slowly he eased forward, saying with his body what he dared not speak out loud.
She rose to meet him in a gesture of sweet welcome. Dear God, how he loved her. The words pushed at his throat, but he swallowed them. Not now. Maybe not ever.
At least he was here, moving in tandem with her as they created a rhythm that was ageless yet uniquely theirs. It had to be enough. He watched her eyes darken and heard her breathing change. Her fingertips flexed against his skin and deep within her moist body, her muscles clenched.
Taking his cue, he stroked faster. Her lips parted and she began to pant, yet her gaze never left his. Another spasm rippled over his cock. She was about to come. And so . . . ah, yes . . . so was he.
“Mac!”
“I’m here.” He pumped faster. “I’m here!”
Arching against him, she came in a glorious rush. He pushed deeper, bellowing in triumph as he surrendered to the pulsing heat, the incredible joy . . . and the love.
Oh, yeah, it was love, all right. As the orgasmic haze cleared from his brain and he could see straight, he gazed into her eyes. The glow he’d seen before was even stronger. No doubt his expression was a lot like hers.
Leaning down, he kissed her softly. Then he lifted his head a fraction. “I really want you to take the job.”
She chuckled. “Interesting pillow talk.”
“You know why I’m saying that, right?”
“You’re afraid I’ll hang around Bickford so I can be with you.”
“Right. If spending time with me will make that more likely, then I’ll back off.”
“You can’t. You promised to take me into the canyon Sunday evening.”
She had him there. He had promised and he was a man of his word. Plus he knew how important that trip was to her. He also knew they weren’t capable of spending an entire night together without getting friendly. Not anymore.
He needed to think, and he found that extremely difficult while locked tight against her yielding body. “I’ll be right back.” Leaving the bed, he went into the bathroom and took care of the condom.
When he returned, she was on her knees, still naked, rummaging through her suitcase. “Need something?”
“My sketch pad.”
Right. He’d agreed to pose for her tonight. He might want to stop saying yes whenever she asked him to do something. Except he couldn’t imagine denying her anything, especially when she was all pink and tousled from making love, like now.
“Just stretch out on the bed on your side and prop your head on your hand. That shouldn’t be too difficult a position to hold for a while. I promise to be quick.”
She wouldn’t be quick enough to keep him from becoming self-conscious, but he’d already said he’d do this. “And nobody will see this except you and me.”
“Absolutely.” She sat cross-legged on the bed, the sketch pad in her lap. Then she paused. “But if you’re worried about it, I won’t draw you.”
“I’m a little worried, but then, so were you when you showed up at the barn that first morning.”
“More than a little worried. But I put my trust in you, and that worked out.”
“Then I’ll put my trust in you.”
“Good.” And she started humming “Streets of Laredo” as she worked.
That made him smile. “Are you afraid that it’ll be a bad sketch?”
“I’m afraid I won’t do you justice. You’re impressive, Macario.”
His cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I’m not.”
“You are, but I can tell that makes you uncomfortable so I’ll shut up about it.” Her pencil moved across the page in rhythmic strokes.
He needed a distraction so he wouldn’t think about the fact that a sketch of his naked body would soon exist. “Getting back to our discussion, I promised to take you into the canyon, as you reminded me, but after that, maybe I should fade into the background and leave you free to make a decision without taking me into consideration.”
“That won’t work, either. I’m the maid of honor for the wedding and you’re the best man.” She kept glancing at him, but it was with an assessing eye as she continued working.
“True, but that doesn’t mean you have to come home with me after the rehearsal dinner and the reception.”
She glanced up. “But what if I want to?”
He had no response to that because he was too busy imagining them frolicking in his big bed.
“Here’s the thing.” She tapped the pencil on her sketch pad. “Unless I hate the work setup or L.A. itself when I go over there, I probably will take this job because you’re right that it’s an amazing opportunity.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“But giving you up won’t be easy.”
“No, but necessary.”
She paused in her sketching. “Is it? Or is there some way we could work it out to see each other?”
“Maybe, but . . .” He blew out a breath. “You’re going to want to give a hundred percent to this job, which means you won’t have time to be hopping back home much at all.”
She held his gaze. “You’re right. So it won’t matter if we end it now or the day I leave for good. I’m already into you, so it’ll hurt no matter what we do between now and then.”
Guilt swamped him. “I’m sorry. I should never have suggested that we come back here this morning.”
“Mac! Get over yourself! If you hadn’t made a move on me, I would have made one on you. I’m not into you because we’ve had great sex recently, although that’s been wonderful. I’ve been into you since the day I sketched you the first time. Leaving Bickford was always going to be sucky if it meant leaving you.”
“Oh.” He didn’t like the idea that she’d suffer no matter what, but he felt a little less responsible for that suffering.
“So what about you? Should I back off so you won’t be miserable if and when I leave town?”
“No.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “I never expected we’d be a long-term thing. I’ll take whatever time I can get and be grateful.”
That telltale emotion flashed in her eyes again. “Me, too. Now I need to get this sketch finished before you end up with a muscle cramp.” She returned her attention to her sketch pad and began humming “Danny Boy.”
Muscle cramps were nothing. He watched her work and realized he could put up with muscle cramps all day if it meant being with her. But that wasn’t going to happen, so instead of muscle cramps, he’d have to deal with heartbreak. And he’d do that, too, because leaving Bickford would be the best thing she could possibly do for herself.
CHAPTER 24
Spending the weekend with Mac taught Anastasia many things about herself. She learned that his little house felt more like home than the large Victorian where she’d lived most of her life. Economic use of space, clean architectural lines, and sturdy furniture appealed to her far more than gingerbread trim and delicate silk upholstery.
Sharing living space with a man instead of her mother felt strange at first, but she adapted quickly because Mac was the most easygoing person in the world. He’d accepted her obsession with capturing him on paper and he’d let her sit on the edge of the bathtub and sketch him while he shaved. That portrait would go in her private portfolio, along with his nude and the one of him wearing only shorts
and flip-flops while he cooked breakfast.
He’d insisted on driving her to Sadie’s both days for her stint at the portrait table and she’d appreciated the gallantry of that even though she was perfectly capable of walking there. Word had spread about their weekend arrangement, so no one was surprised. In fact, they seemed pleased that she and Mac were a couple.
They’d taken a trail ride Saturday morning but had decided to skip it on Sunday because they’d be riding into the canyon in the late afternoon. During a break between portraits on Sunday, Anastasia texted Georgie and asked her to stop by Sadie’s once she was home from the trail ride. Her sister needed to know about the camping trip, but mostly Anastasia wanted to tell her about the job offer.
In spite of Mac’s enthusiastic support, she still hadn’t decided for sure what to do. Talking about it with Georgie would help. Like Mac, Georgie had her best interests at heart.
Georgie showed up in the middle of the afternoon, looking tired and dusty but very happy, too. She picked up a tall glass of water Ike handed her on her way over to Anastasia’s table. Fortunately the portrait chair was vacant and she settled into it.
“Good ride?” Anastasia could tell it had been from Georgie’s expression, but she wanted to hear all about it, anyway.
“The best. We saw him.”
“You did? Awesome!” She didn’t have to ask who. “Morning or evening?”
“Both. We settled everyone in the box canyon and then at dusk we led them back down the trail to the meadow where he usually takes his band.” Georgie grinned. “There they were. He looks great. They all do. They’ll be fine through the winter, I think. No ribs sticking out, no dull coats. They’re in good health, near as I can tell.”
“I’m so glad. I don’t know if you heard, but Mac and I are riding out there tonight. We’re going to camp.”
“Ed mentioned that.” Georgie gave her a sly look. “So? Does that mean the weekend’s gone well?”
She couldn’t help smiling. She’d been doing that a lot lately. “Very well.”
“No complaints?”
“Not a one. Mac’s great.” Her smile faded. “But something’s happened, and it could change everything.” She filled Georgie in on Kathryn’s Friday afternoon visit.
Wild About the Wrangler Page 25
