“Oh, really?” Her voice was little more than a thread as she leaned into him.
“Yes, really,” he said, pulling her flush against him for a kiss so hot that even her boots curled.
She let the world slide into the background as she abandoned herself to his embrace. His mouth was hot and insistent, his hands gentle but possessive. Every cell in her body seemed to be consumed with him, her every sense overwhelmed.
After God knows how long, he broke the kiss and found her earlobe again. He nipped and nibbled, sending waves of sensation through her body and making her curl her fingers into the taut muscles of his arms.
He pulled back and looked her right in the eye but kept her so close that her vision nearly blurred. “I don’t want to screw this up again,” he said, his earnestness piercing her heart. “You mean too much to me.”
She’d had enough. His playacting was getting out of hand, and she couldn’t go along with it anymore. She abruptly pulled back, much to the photographer’s surprise. The various stylists, lighting people, and staff were staring at them with wide eyes and dropped jaws.
“Do you think you got what you need?” Ashley asked them, pouring everything she had into keeping her voice steady.
Paul nodded, either too stunned or too surprised to speak. Thank God. She couldn’t take another minute of this. It was torture.
Sweet, delicious, unbearable torture.
Wrapping her shirt tightly across her front, she ducked around Mack and headed for her truck. She paused only long enough to tell the stylist that she’d send the clothes back to the office next week, and then made her escape.
She headed straight back to her house, but she wouldn’t stop there. She’d go back to the life she’d tried to leave behind by chasing her crazy, childish dream. She’d retreat to her existence before Mack had turned it upside down, when Mia was healthy and her focus and future were as blurry as ever.
And after a few days, she thought she’d managed to put her feelings for him behind her.
But then, one week later, the doorbell rang.
Chapter 19
There are times in life when a man has to learn to take a hint. Other times, you have to know when something is worth fighting for, when it’s something that will come along only once in a lifetime. Twice, if you are a really, really lucky son of a gun.
And Mack was feeling lucky.
He knew a good thing when he saw it, and there was no way on earth he was going to let it slip by twice. Ashley filled a part of him that had been empty for years. He hadn’t even known how empty until she’d retreated from his life again, refusing to acknowledge that there was something genuinely special between them.
So if she was going to pull back the bridge, he was going to make a leap. If he fell on his face, so be it, but he had to at least try.
His blood pounded through his veins as he listened to the smart tap of shoes approaching the door. When it swung open, he took one look at Ashley and let out the breath that had been stuck in his chest for days.
She was so beautiful, standing there in the slanted afternoon light, her dark eyes like melted bronze in the sun’s golden rays. But the thing was, his feelings for her were so much more than that. It wasn’t her looks that took his breath away—it was her.
The woman he loved.
The woman he was determined not to lose.
The surprise on her face quickly fell to something just this side of a scowl. “Mack, what are you doing here?”
Not the welcome he’d been hoping for, but at least she hadn’t slammed the door this time. He tipped his head toward the driveway and said simply, “Come with me.”
Without waiting to see if she would follow, he strode off toward the truck. There was nothing for a handful of seconds, then the hurried thump of her boots on the steps as she rushed to catch up with him.
“Where are we going?”
“To my truck.”
They turned the corner of the house, and she came to a stop, both eyebrows lifted. “You got a new truck?”
He chuckled. “New to me, anyway. I sold my old one to buy one that could haul a trailer.”
The money from the photo shoot was generous, but not obscene. He’d carefully weighed the merits of purchasing a new vehicle, and in the end decided he really did need a truck that could tow.
“Wait. You got a trailer?”
“Nothing gets past you,” he said with a wink. It was big and silver and currently hooked to the back of the old truck he’d recently purchased.
“I don’t understand. What do you need a trailer for?”
He smiled and said, “See for yourself.”
She was still reeling from the moment she’d found Mack on her doorstep out of the blue like that. He looked good, as though he’d finally found a bit of peace in his life. She forced herself to keep her hands in her pockets so she wouldn’t do something to embarrass herself. Like wrapping her arms around him and never letting go.
Taking a steadying breath, she walked around the trailer to see what he was up to.
“Oh my goodness! Where did she come from? Is she yours?” Ashley hurried over to the gorgeous gray mare contentedly munching away on the grass beside the driveway.
When he didn’t answer right away, she turned back to find him leaning against the corner of the trailer, watching her, his green eyes bright but inscrutable.
Setting her hands on her hips, she said, “Mack, what is going on?”
Pushing away, he strolled to her side and patted the mare’s muscled neck. “What’s going on,” he said, his deep voice soft and low, “is that I’m showing you that I believe that you have it in you to be a champion. I don’t want you to give up everything because of what happened. I’m behind you one hundred percent, and to that end, I’m leasing you a horse.”
Her eyes went wide. “You’re what?”
“One of my friends is pregnant, and can’t race for the next six months or so. I’ve leased this fine lady, Mercedes, who happens to be her champion barrel horse, so you can finish what you started.”
She gaped at him in astonishment. “What…How…Good Lord, Mack, are you crazy? I can’t accept this.”
“Why not?” he asked simply, as though he were offering her a stick of gum.
Floundering for a reason, she sputtered, “Because I’ve only ever ridden Mia! She’s my partner, and I can’t ditch her for a different horse. We’ve been through too much together.” Her throat tightened just thinking about her sweet horse, who was currently on stall rest.
Turning to face her, he set his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze evenly. “Darlin’, in this sport, sometimes the game changes, but any cowboy or cowgirl worth their salt rolls with the punches. You’ll ride Mia once she’s healed, but in the meantime, I know you have the spirit, talent, and drive to be a champion, and honey, I plan to see this thing through to the end.”
His speech was so earnest, so sincere, that she knew he spoke what he believed to be the truth. Still, doubts crowded in on her. What if she failed again? What if she hurt this horse, too? And she couldn’t even think of the right questions to ask about what it meant that Mack would do this for her.
Stepping back, he held out his hand to her. “If we leave now, we can make it up north a few days early for the rodeo I signed you up for weeks ago. That will give you some time to get acquainted with Miss Mercedes, and to find your bearings. I’ve talked to the vet, and she’s agreed to take care of Mia.”
He tilted his head, and Ashley could almost feel him willing her to agree. “What do you say, princess?”
She looked down at his beckoning hand, over to the mare, then back to his imploring eyes. With her heart galloping in her chest, she took a deep breath and nodded.
“Let me just get my boots.”
Chapter 20
Mack had never been so nervous before about a ride in his life, and it wasn’t even his. There was something about Ashley’s races that set him completely on edge. With only two r
iders in line ahead of them, he stood close to her side, with his hand resting reassuringly on her leg. Mercedes stood calmly, clearly used to the hubbub around them.
“This is a bad idea,” Ashley said, looking down at him with nervous brown eyes. “We haven’t had nearly enough time together. What if I screw up and—”
“You won’t screw up. Relax and go do what you love. Don’t worry about the competition. You’re doing this for you.”
“But—”
“No buts. I have faith in your skills. I wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise. You go do what you do best, and I’ll be right here waiting to congratulate you when you get back.”
She inhaled deep, then exhaled a long, slow breath as the horse in front of her sprinted away. “I can do this.”
He grinned. “Yes, you can. And Ashley?”
“Hmm?”
“Will it help you forget your nerves if I tell you I’m in love with you?”
Her mouth fell clear open, and he laughed and said, “Knock ’em dead, princess!”
It was time to go, so she snapped her mouth closed and spurred her horse forward. He watched from the gate, his body wound tight as a spring as the girl for whom he’d long ago fallen head over heels raced like the champion he knew she could be.
The ride was flawless. Ashley was pocketing each barrel with textbook perfection. After the last turn, she flew toward the gate, her arms pumping, her body moving in perfect accord with the horse’s stride. The clock froze at 13.899, and Mack let out a whoop, tossing his hat in the air.
He jogged lightly to where she was dismounting, grinning like an idiot the whole way. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she handed off the reins and sprinted toward him. She looked as though she was about to bound into his arms but remembered at the last second that his back wasn’t up to something like that just yet.
Stopping short in front of him, she grabbed him by the lapels and yanked him in for a kiss, right there in front of half the competitors. Whistles and applause broke out, making him smile even as their lips touched.
When she pulled away, she shook her head and said, “That wasn’t fair, Jacob Reed McLeroy. You can’t tell a woman you love her right before she has to race.”
“Made you forget your nerves, didn’t it?” he asked with mock innocence. “In case you didn’t know, sometimes I play a little dirty.” He waggled his eyebrows, making her giggle.
“Well, for your information, I happen to be in love with you, too.”
Smiling hugely, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers again. “Yeah, well, just remember who said it first.”
She laughed out loud as they walked arm in arm back to Mercedes.
“By the way,” he said nonchalantly, happiness bubbling up inside him, “a few days ago, the numbness started to recede in my hands. I finally talked to the doctor about it, and he feels that, at the rate I’m improving, I have a good chance of regaining my strength after all.”
Her eyes lit with sweet joy as she laced her fingers with his. “Well, it sounds like we have a lot to celebrate tonight.”
The promise in her voice sent heat surging through him. “I plan to hold you to that.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, just along his jaw. “I’m counting on it, cowboy.”
Still riding the high of her second-place finish, Ashley smiled up at the man she had once hated, yet now could hardly imagine out of her life. She sighed and tucked herself up against him, glad that the truck had a bench seat with a middle seat belt.
“What now?” she asked, reveling in the feel of his muscled chest beneath her cheek.
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, his touch soft and tender. “You know, I think I might enjoy being on the sidelines, cheering you on. It’s a lot less painful on this side of the fence.”
She chuckled softly, knowing he was only half kidding. “You can cheer me on, but only until you’ve healed up enough to make your much-anticipated return to the sport. Then we’ll have to figure out a schedule that can work for both of us.”
“Well, while we’re figuring out schedules, there’s one more thing we should consider. I heard from your uncle the other day. He was so impressed with the proofs from the photo shoot that he’s offered me another modeling contract, this time for a national campaign for Sagebrush’s new Western-inspired cologne.”
Ashley drew back, beyond thrilled. “Oh, really? That’s amazing! But honestly, I’m not surprised he wants you again.”
He sent her a suspicious look. “Wait a second—did you ask him to offer me the contract?”
“Nope,” she said, giving her head a decisive shake.
“Then why aren’t you surprised?”
She fluttered her eyelashes and stated the obvious. “Because you’re the sexiest cowboy to ever wear a pair of jeans, and they’d be crazy not to want you.”
He tipped back his head and laughed, and she felt as though her heart would burst with happiness.
“You know, princess, I knew I fell in love with you for a reason.”
She never expected to fall in love with a cowboy.…
Rodeo king Tanner Callen isn’t looking to be tied down anytime soon. When he sees Madeline Harper at a local honky-tonk—even though everything about her screams New York City—he brings out every trick in his playbook to take her home.
But soon he learns that he doesn’t just want her for a night.
Instead, he hopes for forever.
Read on for a special excerpt from Learning to Ride, the first book in the Sunnybell series, available only from
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Tanner Callen saw her the moment she stepped foot in the joint.
Well, well, well. The hot-as-hell Yankee had ventured out from the motel at last. He’d seen her zipping in and out of the parking lot in her fancy Bimmer with the New York plates a few times this week, her face half covered by those dark, oversized sunglasses of hers. But even if he hadn’t seen her plates, he would have known she was an out-of-towner at first glance. Her designer jeans and red-bottomed heels stood out in the sea of worn Levi’s and scuffed boots like a silk rose in a field of bluebonnets.
Her top was low-cut but loose, giving teasing hints of her trim figure as she shimmied her way to the bar and ordered a drink. Tanner shook his head; Evan looked like he was about to trip over his fool tongue as he served her a bottle of beer.
“Better take your shot or I’m callin’ forfeit, Callen.”
Tanner dragged his attention away from the bar and laughed at his friend Mack. “You know that’s the only way you’ll ever win.” He and Mack had been friends since the eighth grade, and ribbing each other was part of the game.
Diego, who was a few years younger and still pretty wet behind the ears, chuckled and gave Mack a solid punch on the shoulder. “Burn. You gonna let him get away with that smack talk?”
Shaking his head, Mack shrugged. “He can talk all he wants, but by the end of the night, dollars to donuts he’ll be the one taking the ride of shame on old Bucky.”
Tanner snorted as he set his beer down on the peanut-shell-covered table and picked up his pool cue. “Big talk, considering it was your backside getting tossed off that old bull last time. And the time before that.”
It was a longstanding bet: whoever lost two out of three games on The Yell’s ancient coin-operated pool tables had a date with Bucky. What better way to give a rodeo star his comeuppance than to have him thrown like a sack of potatoes from a mechanical bull?
Tanner glanced behind him one more time before turning his attention to the game. Miss New York still leaned against the bar, her honey-blond hair grazing those sexy bare shoulders of hers.
Forget Bucky—if Tanner had a date with anyone tonight, he hoped like hell it would be with that little high-heel-wearing Yankee. Lucky for him, the night had only just begun.
“Care to dance?”
Madeline flicked her gaze from the bullpen to the denim-shirt-clad guy who’d materialized at h
er side. This one was actually pretty cute, in a puppy dog sort of way. She still wasn’t going to dance with the man—or anyone else, for that matter—but she did smile back at him. “Thanks, but no dancing for me tonight.”
It was the same thing she’d said to every other guy who had asked that night. She half expected him to say something cutting—that had happened way too many times in her life—but he just tipped his hat, offered up a toothy grin, and moved on.
Amazing.
Seriously, every man should take a lesson in rejection from the cowboys in this town. She grinned as she looked down at her nearly empty beer bottle and shook her head. Apparently it had only taken two drinks to soften her up to this place. Though she’d deny it to any of her friends back home, she’d been having entirely too much fun watching the mechanical bull show. The thing seemed to have two settings: sexy boob-jiggler and insane bull-on-crack. Not surprisingly, the rider’s gender seemed to determine the setting.
“When you gonna take a turn, blondie?”
Madeline looked over to find a tall brunette with a tight plaid shirt and killer jeans offering up a wide, friendly smile. She’d seen the woman ride a few minutes ago. She’d been good, actually. Madeline shrugged and flashed a wry grin. “I’ll leave it to the professionals, thank you.”
“We all have to start somewhere,” the woman said, raising her eyebrows as further invitation. “I’m Ashley, by the way.”
“Madeline,” she said with a nod of greeting. “And I’m pretty sure you’ll see me sprout wings and fly before you see me on that thing.” Given her deathly fear of flying, that was saying something.
But before Ashley could respond, something across the room caught her attention. “Oh. My. Lord.” Her eyes were wide as she turned to Madeline. “’Scuse me, darlin’. I’ll be back.” She rushed off toward a group of similarly dressed women who were standing at the ropes on the other side of the corral.
The Return (BookShots Flames) Page 9
