He lay back and watched as she did the honors. “You thought this might happen?” His voice was hoarse and full of need.
She stretched out alongside him, partially lying across him so her breasts flattened against his chest, and she whispered against his mouth, “Hoped.”
He groaned and captured her lips in a heated kiss, desire coursing through his veins. He started to flip her over, but she broke the kiss and smiled the sexiest little grin he’d ever seen. “Oh no, cowboy. I’m taking the reins tonight.”
Oh, hell yes. Tonight he was all hers.
By the time Ashley woke the next morning, bright sunshine was streaming through the slit in the curtains. She smiled as she opened her eyes to find Mack sprawled on the bed beside her. His beautiful if scarred body was covered by nothing but a thin white sheet.
It had been way, way too long since she had enjoyed the company of a man, but after last night, she knew it had been well worth the wait. He’d fulfilled her every fantasy of what it would be like to be with him, starting with kisses that had curled her toes and ending with her coming not once, but twice. Twice!
Honestly, if he was this good injured, she was really looking forward to experiencing him in top form.
Sighing, she glanced over at the clock. She blinked twice, then sprang to her feet. “Mack,” she said, dashing toward her suitcase for fresh panties and a bra. “Mack, it’s less than ten minutes to checkout. We have to get going ASAP.”
He groaned and shifted so he could see her through one squinted eye. “Wouldn’t you rather ask for a late checkout and come back to bed?” He gave a lazy, handsome-as-hell grin that made her stomach dance with butterflies all over again.
After tugging a shirt on, she leaned over to kiss him. “I really, really would, but I have to get to the vet to check on Mia. I want to see how she held up last night.” Already the glorious haze from the previous night was being edged out by reality as some of the worry seeped back into her veins.
He sighed and sat up, nodding groggily. “Rain check, then.” With a teasing little waggle of his eyebrows, he added, “Hopefully for tonight.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “We’ll see. Can you finish up in here while I go check out?”
At his nod, she pulled on her jeans and her boots, zipped up her bag, and brushed her teeth in record time. It was exactly eleven o’clock when she reached the lobby, her bag slung over her shoulder and her hat low on her forehead. She was digging in her purse for her wallet when the conversation between two women in line ahead of her stopped her cold.
“Poor horse. She didn’t have a chance, given the way that girl was riding her. Bobby said his sister, the vet tech, said the poor thing’s leg is broken.”
The one with the pink cowboy hat shook her head, sending her long, light-brown curls swaying. “Damn shame. She seems like a nice enough girl, but an amateur through and through. I heard Mack only helped her out of pity. Her mom died of cancer or something a few months back, bless her heart, and I guess this was her Make-a-Wish moment, if you know what I mean. They dated back in high school, from what I hear. She’s a pretty little thing, so I imagine he got some benefit out of the arrangement.”
“Doesn’t he always?” the other one asked.
Their laughter seemed to echo through the whole lobby.
Good Lord. It felt as though Ashley had been punched square in the gut. She stood there, trying not to hyperventilate, trying to remember how to stand upright like a normal human being. Every last one of her fears from yesterday sprang back with a vengeance. The fall was her own stupid fault. And Mack?
She replayed the events of the previous night, remembering how at every turn, she had been the one to move things forward. She had kissed him. She had sat in his lap. She had suggested moving to the bed, had taken off her clothes, pulled out the condom, and even put it on him. She’d been leading at every turn.
It’s not that she thought Mack hadn’t enjoyed it—he definitely had. But he’d more or less been going along with what she’d wanted. She was the one who had felt that deep connection with him. She was the one who had imagined that something sweet and special had blossomed between them the previous night. But it had been only her high emotions and the unsettling day that had driven everything that night.
Embarrassment coated her insides like hot tar, and her cheeks flamed with mortification. How had she not realized it last night? For her, the night had been meaningful and sweet, but for Mack?
A pleasurable exchange between friends.
With her heart thudding hard in her chest, she turned and hurried from the lobby, not caring that she hadn’t checked out. She went straight to the truck, got in, closed the door, and leaned against the steering wheel as she took several long, calming breaths.
She was such an idiot. She’d dashed off to follow this crazy dream of hers, not even stopping to consider it fully. She wasn’t some long-deterred rodeo queen. She was an amateur rider who enjoyed racing alone in her backyard. Mack wasn’t some sort of bad boy knight in shining armor. He was a good guy and an old friend who’d agreed to help her because it was mutually beneficial.
She was too old to believe in fairy tales. Mia’s injuries were proof of that.
The doors to the lobby swished open and Mack strode outside, an easy, confident grin on his handsome face. Taking a deep breath, Ashley straightened and pasted a wan smile on her face.
Enough was enough.
She would go home and put her energy into getting her horse well again. She’d help Mack with the Sagebrush campaign because he was a friend, and he had earned it fair and square. But after that? Once she fulfilled her end of the bargain, she would step away from all this and go back to the life she knew.
Her barrel racing dreams were officially over.
Chapter 17
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Ashley’s uncle rose and walked around his desk, smiling warmly. He wore a pair of Sagebrush jeans, a white shirt with a silver-and-leather bolo, and a brown corduroy sports jacket—the epitome of cowboy business casual. His boots looked as though they’d never seen a speck of dust, but when he shook her hand, calluses scraped the sensitive skin of her palm.
“Hi, Uncle Alan,” she said, the name still a little awkward on her tongue after all these years without a family. “I hope you don’t mind the interruption.”
“It’s good to see you. This is good timing since I was about to eat some lunch. Would you like to join me?”
“That sounds nice, but I was wondering if we might talk a bit of business first.” She had expected to be nervous, coming here, but she felt oddly confident. This was her family’s business, after all.
Surprise lifted his brow while curiosity glinted in his deep-blue eyes. They were the same color her father’s eyes had been in the handful of pictures her mother had kept. The two men had a sister, too, but she’d never reached out to Ashley or her mother. It had to have been her son who had complained of his split inheritance, since Alan’s two kids were still preteens. It was strange that all these people were her family. But it was time that she worked on thinking of them that way.
“All right, then,” he agreed, nodding toward the pair of wingback chairs in front of the desk. When they had sat down, he steepled his fingers and said, “What would you like to discuss?”
“Mack McLeroy.”
He blinked, looking confused. “The bull rider?”
“Yup,” she said, suppressing the little flutter her heart gave at the thought of him. “He is a longtime friend of mine, and I take the cancellation of his contract personally.”
Alan shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable for the first time since she’d arrived. “That’s just business, Ashley. We need someone the public recognizes to represent our brand. If he’s sidelined, he moves out of the public eye, so he isn’t able to hold up his end of the deal.”
Using every bit of the poise and confidence she’d learned in her years in pageants, she squared her sho
ulders and looked her uncle straight in the eye. “Mack’s the real deal. He’s the embodiment of everything this brand professes to stand for. He’s rugged, fearless, skilled, and handsome. He’s a Texan through and through, and he possesses the kind of swagger that would make even John Wayne jealous. You put him in your ad, and no one is going to think twice about the fact that he’s out of the game for a few months. It’ll only make his return all the more anticipated.” Ashley purposely ignored the possibility that he might not recover at all. She had to believe that he would be all right. Hell, knowing Mack, he had enough willpower to make everything work out.
Her uncle shifted in his chair and looked back at her thoughtfully. “I appreciate your passion, but we have to think with our bottom line, not our hearts.”
“I am speaking to your bottom line. The same people who want Sagebrush want to either be like Mack or date him. I dare you to find someone better suited to the job.”
Uncle Alan conceded the point with the dip of his head. “Well, you make a strong argument, but we’ve already booked an alternate for that shoot.”
The air seemed to leave her lungs in a whoosh. “Oh.” It had never occurred to her that they would move that fast. Damn it, she had never wanted to let Mack down. After all he had done for her, she owed him this.
“However,” her uncle said, pursing his lips and eyeing her the way a cattleman eyes a prized steer on the auction block, “I think I may be able to offer a compromise.”
Hope sprang back from the ashes. She sat up straight and spread her fingers. “I’m all ears.”
“I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Mack swiveled around to find Ashley standing over him, looking as fresh as a daisy in white shorts and a yellow peasant shirt. He hopped to his feet and toweled off the sweat as well as he could. “I’d say the good news is finding you in my garage turned workout room. How are you?”
She’d withdrawn so completely from him since that morning the previous week, when they’d checked out, that he’d wondered if he’d somehow pissed her off. When he’d asked, she’d said she was worried about Mia and the surgery, so he had let it go. Yet he couldn’t help but miss her company. He’d gotten used to having her around, and that’s to say nothing of the incredible night they’d shared.
She shrugged and gave that impersonal smile she’d seemed to have perfected since that morning. “I’m all right. The surgery went well, but the recovery plain sucks. It’s going to be an uphill battle for my girl.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said, shaking his head. “I know all about uphill battles,” he added with a wry smile. Grabbing his water bottle, he took a quick swig before dousing his face. It wasn’t a shower, but it would do in a pinch. What he really wanted was to wrap her up in a hug, but he knew enough about women and sweat to keep his distance.
“Yes, well, we’ll get through it. But listen, I spoke to my uncle yesterday, and he’s agreed to honor your contract.”
A shot of relief surged through him at the news. Thank God. “Hot damn, Ashley, that’s awesome! I didn’t even know that you were still planning to talk to him.” And he sure as hell hadn’t wanted to ask. As much as he needed the contract, she’d been through too much for him to push her.
She smiled lightly before shaking her head. “Don’t get too excited. They’d already scheduled a different model for the shoot you were originally supposed to do. Uncle Alan agreed to use you for the new campaign, but this one is a little different.”
“How so?”
“Well,” she said, “you’ll be sharing the spotlight with me.”
That didn’t sound like bad news to him. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s silly—that’s all. It’s an ad for their new line of boyfriend jeans for women, and they want a couple to play the part. I already told him we weren’t suited to be playing boyfriend and girlfriend to each other, but he was firm that my former beauty queen notoriety in the area would be a good boost for the ad.”
The way she dismissed the idea of them ever being boyfriend and girlfriend with such disgust took him aback. Scowling, he crossed his arms. “The idea of us dating doesn’t seem so far-fetched to me. We have a hell of a lot of good chemistry, if you ask me.”
Hadn’t they damn near ignited the sheets last week? Here he was, all ready for a repeat performance, and she was acting as if she’d happily never talk to him again.
She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. That was a one-off sort of thing. It was a rough day, I’d practically had a near-death experience, and we were convenient distractions for each other that night. That’s a long way from gazing into each other’s eyes for a stupid photo shoot.”
A convenient distraction? What in the world? He stared back at her in shock, not even sure what to say. “Ashley—”
“No, don’t,” she said, taking a step toward the door. “We’re both adults here. I don’t want either of us assigning more meaning to a hookup than there was.”
Ouch. He had thought that night had meant something. It had been more than sex; they had connected. They’d shared things about their lives. He’d opened up in a way he hadn’t with anyone else.
He draped the towel over his shoulder and leveled his gaze on her. She didn’t quite meet his eyes and seemed ready to bolt at any second. Well, he sure as hell didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. One look at her set mouth and tense shoulders told him that now was not the time to argue the point.
Shrugging, he said, “Thanks for going to bat for me. When do we do the shoot?”
After she’d given him the details, he watched her beat a hasty retreat. “Escape” was more like it. He’d let her run this time, but when they got together for the shoot? He intended to show her just how much chemistry they had.
Chapter 18
Ashley was beginning to wish she’d stuck to her guns when she’d initially told her uncle no. Standing awkwardly in the middle of a barren Texas field at sunset with the man she had been trying really hard to forget for the past two weeks was not her idea of fun.
With the lighting finally situated, the clothes just so, and the cameraman perched on a ladder a few feet away, everything was in place…except her heart. She glanced longingly toward her truck a few hundred feet away and sighed.
“Don’t worry, princess,” Mack murmured in a lighthearted drawl. “You look like a million bucks.”
Despite her continued efforts to avoid him, she had no choice but to look up into his oh-so-familiar green eyes now. He was everything she’d promised her uncle he would be, and more. His jeans fit as if they had been made for him, and his open denim shirt flaunted his abs to perfection. They’d had him grow a few days’ beard, so his cheeks were darkened to the right degree of sexy scruff.
In short, he was way too damn good-looking for her peace of mind. The last thing she needed was to go losing her heart when she’d only started repairing it.
“I’m sure the stylists did their jobs. But I don’t want to be here.”
“Sorry to hear that. Maybe I can make it better for you.”
Before she could respond to that odd quip, the photographer, a tall, skinny man by the name of Paul, called them to order. “All right, you beautiful people. Time to sell some jeans. I’m going to let you off the leash for now, so do what feels natural. I want to see smoldering looks, lingering touches, and fluttering hearts turn into passionate embraces and sexy kisses. Think you can handle it?”
As much as she wanted to say no, she nodded along with Mack.
“Excellent. Keep going until I stop you, okay?”
Mack grinned wide, never taking his eyes off her as he said, “Yes, sir.” The words seemed to hold so much promise that it was all she could do not to blush.
“Off you go,” Paul said, and soon the clicking of the camera began.
“Did I mention,” Mack said softly, his eyes focused on her as though she were the only woman in the entire state, “that you look absolutely incredible in those jeans?”
Her stomach paid no attention to her resolve to withstand his phony charms, letting loose with a flutter of butterfly wings as he reached out and slid a finger down her jawline.
“That’s good to know. The more jeans this ad sells, the better.” She wore an unbuttoned pale denim shirt that matched his own, and the black lace bra showing underneath was daintier than anything she’d ever purchased in her life.
He allowed his fingertips to trail down her neck and beneath the edge of her shirt. “And the jeans have nothing on this bra,” he said, his eyes heavily lidded as he slowly tugged her to him.
The butterflies fluttered harder, and she swallowed. “It’s the stylists,” she said again.
He shook his head, slowly and deliberately. “They could have dressed you in feed bags and you’d still take my breath away. You always have.”
His arm slipped around to her back, right above the top of her jeans, and she had to remember that this was all just for the cameras.
“You’re really good at this, you know?” She allowed her arms to slide along the exposed skin of his flat belly. For the cameras, of course.
“Mm,” he murmured, and dipped to press his mouth to the sensitive skin at her collarbone. “It’s easy when you don’t have to pretend.”
She tilted her head back, offering him full access to her throat, and he kissed his way up to her earlobe. Her heart was starting to pound, but she decided it was probably better for the ad if she didn’t suppress her reaction. She could worry about enforcing boundaries later.
“I love the smell of your hair,” he breathed even as his hands dipped into her back pockets, squeezing just enough to make her catch her breath. “It reminds me of the best summer of my life.” He carried on necking, making her sigh with the pleasure of it. “There was this sweet, pretty, brown-eyed girl who had me so tied up in knots, I didn’t know which way was up.”
The Return (BookShots Flames) Page 8
