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Cowboy Redeemed

Page 11

by Parker Kincade


  She watched Clay approach, his muscular legs shifting beneath his faded jeans as he walked. The tattoo she loved so much undulated on his forearm as he reached to place two fresh pitchers in the center of the table. Strong veins detailed the back of the hand that poured and slid a mug to her.

  Holy shit.

  All six-feet-several-inches of rugged cowboy … all hers. He’d said so himself.

  “One thing about Mathis men,” Reese said. “They don’t waste time when they know what they want. Although Gavin waited twelve years to finally claim Lauren, Paxton didn’t wait twelve minutes to reclaim me.”

  “The trait’s not exclusive to the men in our family,” Erin added, darting a glance toward Trevor, who’d taken up residence at a pool table with the other guys, including Clay. “Clay says you make the best spaghetti sauce he’s ever had.”

  Ainsley’s cheeks heated at the praise. “I can’t speak to the quality of the sauces he’s had other than mine, but I do make it from scratch.”

  Erin smiled conspiratorially. “I’d love to know your secret. If it’s not a long-standing family secret, that is.”

  There were probably pages and pages of family recipes in Erin’s cookbook. Another reminder how out of Clay’s league Ainsley was, the things she’d never be able to offer him. On the plus side, if they decided to get married—way too soon to consider that possibility—Clay wouldn’t have to ask her dad’s permission—a ritual she’d heard Southern men stood by—and he’d never end up with nightmare in-law stories.

  “No secret.” No family. “I use all fresh ingredients from my garden.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Reese turned sharply in her chair. “You have a garden?”

  “Not a very big one,” Ainsley explained. “It yields all I can handle, though. It’s my first attempt at growing anything other than mold in the refrigerator, so I’m more than happy with the results.”

  “Any plans to expand?” Reese asked.

  Ainsley startled when Clay reached around and placed a plate in front of her. He kissed her cheek, his lips lingering long enough to give her goose bumps. “Chow time. You need anything else?”

  “Aren’t you eating?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll eat over there.” He tilted his head toward the game in progress at the pool tables. “If I leave them to it, those bastards will cheat. Got twenty bucks on the line.”

  “Is it a men-only kind of game?” Not that Ainsley would consider taking their money, but it would be fun to play a round or two.

  His grin came slow, and full of mischief. “You want in?”

  Erin shoved Clay hard enough he stumbled to the side. “Go on and let us get back to interrogating your girl. We’ll return her in one piece once she’s finished her dinner.”

  “Hey, don’t be so pushy,” Clay grumbled. “Just for that, I’m gonna up my game to make sure your husband leaves with a lighter wallet.”

  “I’m sure he poses quite the challenge.” Erin rolled her eyes, giving Ainsley a look that said Trevor must not be very good at eight-ball.

  Clay ran a hand over Ainsley’s hair. The incredibly intimate and sweet gesture made her heart trip. He bent to whisper in her ear. “Let me know when you’re done, baby.”

  Ainsley knew he wasn’t only talking about her burger. He was reminding her she held the power to call an end to their night. For some reason, it made staying easier.

  “Good lord,” Reese said under her breath. “Check him out. I never pegged Clay as one to hover.”

  Erin stared at Ainsley with something akin to approval in her gaze. “Hovering’s not the only thing I’d never pegged Clay to do.”

  Ainsley ignored their intrigued stares and dug into her burger.

  Reese broke the silence first. “I’m really curious about your garden, Ainsley. What are you growing?”

  Ainsley swiped a napkin across her mouth and took a swig of beer to wash down her food. “Isn’t there a garden at Shadow Maverick?”

  Erin shook her head. “No one has the time or inclination to tend to a garden. The guys are all busy with the cattle. Jayden and I stay busy with the horses, plus I’ve got a toddler to chase after. And if you tell my mom I told you she couldn’t grow a cactus in the desert, I’ll deny it to my last breath.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Ainsley relaxed into the conversation. “The garden is a lot of work. I spend hours out there every day, but I love it enough it doesn’t feel like work.”

  Gardening was therapeutic, a place she could forget the pressure of running the ranch and whether or not it would still be hers come fall.

  She turned to Reese. “For now, I’m growing tomatoes, beans, and onions. I’ve got a few different peppers, mostly sweet, but a few spicy ones too. There’s a variety of leaf greens.” Ainsley did a mental tally of the rows. “I think that’s about it. I have herbs, but those aren’t technically in the garden. I grow them in pots that can be brought inside when the weather turns.”

  This would be her first Texas winter. Having spent most of her life in areas known for snow, Ainsley had no idea what to expect.

  “Do you have a plan for winter vegetables?” Reese seemed unusually curious about Ainsley’s hobby.

  Ainsley hesitated. She did have a plan, but whether she’d be there to see it through was the elephant on her chest. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve been trying to find a local grower to provide fresh—possibly even organic—produce for my clients. So far, I haven’t had any luck.”

  “What is it you do?”

  “I’m an event planner. I work with a handful of caterers, but what I’d love to do is hire an in-house person to handle the food. I’d have more control over the quality of ingredients, as well as where those ingredients come from. What do you think, Ainsley? Would you even consider a discussion about selling produce from your garden? I’d be interested in a sample of that sauce of yours too. My clients would love the idea of an all-natural, locally made product.”

  Erin cut in. “I’m going to tell Pax you’re working if you don’t give Ainsley a break, Reese.”

  Reese opened her mouth. Closed it. Smiled. A delicate flush colored Reese’s cheeks. “Pax threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t take the night off.” She winked. “Although I’m not sure it’s much of a threat.”

  Now Ainsley was the one blushing, if the heat on her cheeks was any indication. But Reese’s excitement about her garden was contagious. Ainsley’s mind whirled with possibilities. Could she make a living from what she planted? If her ranch was smaller, less expensive to run, maybe. She could expand. Triple her yield where it stood. Anything more would have to be separated to another area.

  “All right, ladies.” Trevor collapsed into the chair next to Erin. He waved a hand to Ainsley and Reese. “You two go on. Pax and Clay need partners. I’m done.”

  Erin snuggled back against Trevor’s chest. “No complaints from me. Feels like ages since we’ve had a minute together.”

  Reese latched onto Ainsley’s hand and stood, taking her along the way. “Come on. Let’s give these love-birds some time alone.”

  Reese led them to the pool table. She dropped Ainsley’s hand to move toward Pax.

  “Ah, my next victims?” Pax grinned as Reese walked into his arms.

  “Don’t be so sure.” Clay’s hearty laugh shot a frisson of awareness along Ainsley’s spine as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “This one’s a ringer.” Then for her ears alone, “You okay?”

  She really was. She sensed she and Reese could become great friends. Erin had the protective big sister vibe going on, but she hadn’t been hostile. So far, so good. Ainsley gave Clay’s forearms a reassuring squeeze.

  Pax raised a brow. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

  “Hundred bucks says she wipes the table with you,” Clay challenged.

  Ainsley jabbed Clay’s ribs with her elbow. “Don’t do it.”

  Oh, now there was a look that must’ve gotten him
out of a truckload of trouble as a kid. “What? It’s not like he can complain when you beat him. I did warn him.”

  Pax came over and slapped a twenty in Clay’s palm. “Your turn for a beer run.”

  “We could use a pitcher over here, too.” Colt waved an arm from the table beside theirs, where he and Dakota had a game going. A couple of cute, vastly underdressed women stood close, feigning interest in the game when any idiot could see they were more interested in watching the men bend and stretch as they played.

  Clay wandered toward the bar, and Ainsley turned back to Pax. “I’m not playing for money.” It was one thing to play against men she didn’t know. No way she’d take money from Clay’s family.

  “Don’t be scared, Ainsley. Won’t be the first time Clay’s lost a bet.”

  Pax’s not-so-subtle teasing loosened Ainsley’s lips. “I’m not the one who should be scared.” Was this what it felt like to have siblings? To want to punch a person in the gut and laugh with them at the same time?

  “You tell him, girl,” came Reese’s response.

  Pax laughed. “That’ll be enough out of you.” He scooped an arm around Reese’s waist and hoisted her against him. Reese shrieked, feet dangling, as he walked her back to a tall stool and sat her down. The love between them burned as bright as the Texas sun as Reese laughed at Pax’s antics and whispered words in her ear. They shared a quick kiss before Pax turned to set the table for their game.

  “All right. Time to choose your weapon, Ainsley.”

  Ainsley went to the wall rack to select a cue. Without warning, she was jerked back into a wall of solid muscle, causing a little oof to escape her lips. Alcohol-laden breath assaulted her nose. “Hey, sweet thing. I was hoping you’d be back tonight. Admit it, you missed me, didn’t you?”

  Ainsley shoved at the hands creeping up her sides, heading straight toward her breasts. “I don’t even know you, buddy. Hey!” She latched onto his meaty wrists. “Those hands get any higher, you’ll find yourself singing soprano.”

  He released her.

  Ainsley spun, only to find herself trapped between his arms and the wall. She poised her knee to strike.

  “Aw, come on, sugar. You took me for fifty bucks last weekend. I want a chance to win my money back. Or maybe we’ll play for something even better.”

  He did a little drunken wiggle with his shoulders as his eyebrows danced up and down.

  Oh right. She remembered this guy. A horrible pool player with a taste for tequila. His idea of a good time had consisted of trying to convince her he could keep it up long enough for her to get him off.

  Bless his heart.

  What was his name? Darrell? Doug?

  “Back off, Duane.” Pax stepped into her periphery.

  Duane! Ainsley mentally snapped her fingers as she worked to peel his from her biceps. At least she got the duh part right.

  Duane swayed, peering over his shoulder at the interruption. “Step off, Paxton. This ain’t got nuthin’ to do with you. She ain’t your girl.”

  “I’m not yours, either,” Ainsley reminded him. “Now about that soprano thing … you wanna try me?” Better she rack the guy than have him pick a fight he wouldn’t win.

  Ainsley gave him a second for his sloshed brain to process her words. The guy was harmless, but that didn’t mean she wanted Clay to come back and find her tangled up with another man, however innocent.

  Ainsley raised her knee.

  Duane’s hands flew to his crotch, the momentum of movement causing him to stumble backward. “Okay, okay.” He bumped into a table, righted himself, and waggled a finger in her direction. “Damn feisty, that’s what you are.”

  “Best be movin’ on, Duane,” Pax encouraged. “My brother gets back and sees you mauling his girl, he’ll get cranky. Which in turn will make me cranky.”

  “And me.” Dakota stepped to Pax’s side.

  “Hell, I’m already cranky,” Colt added, taking up the space next to Dakota, arms folded as if to say I dare you to try me. “Damn boy, don’t you know how to treat a woman?”

  Ainsley almost laughed as Duane sized up the wall of muscle. Would’ve laughed if her throat hadn’t closed up, choked by emotion. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked fast, willing them not to spill.

  They stood, shoulder-to-shoulder. Fierce frowns in place. Ready to rumble for someone they cared about. For Clay.

  For her.

  An overwhelming sense of gratitude, and the warmth of something much … deeper, washed over her.

  “Come on, firecracker.” Pax draped an arm over her shoulders, paying no mind to Duane’s retreat. He pointed her back toward the pool table, set and ready for the break. “Show me what’cha got.”

  As Pax handed her a cue, Ainsley thought maybe … just maybe … she’d finally found where she belonged.

  Chapter Twelve

  A motion-activated light came on as they drove up, illuminating the gravel driveway.

  “Where are we?” She yawned into her hand. The low hum of the truck had lulled her into sleepiness during the drive from the bar to … the middle of nowhere.

  Clay parked and cut the engine. “You said you wanted to see it.”

  It was a homey looking mobile home with a large deck across the front. Or maybe that was the back. She couldn’t tell for sure.

  “What am I looking at? Is there a lake down there?”

  He laughed and opened the door, tugging her out after him.

  “A small one. Man-made generations ago as a fishing spot. See those lights over there?” She followed the line of his outstretched arm to an area between the trees. “That’s the family fishing cabin, although Gavin and Lauren are using it as a residence until their house is finished.”

  “The girls mentioned they were getting married soon.”

  “Coupla months. The house they’re building is almost done. Gavin wants to move in after they get back from their honeymoon, but Pax and I plan to get it done while they’re gone.”

  “Lauren won’t want to supervise the move?”

  He snickered. “I’m sure she would, but she’ll get over it right quick once she figures out the time we saved her. Not to mention the heavy lifting. Between her belongings from New York and Gavin’s from London, those two filled half the storage warehouse.” His chest expanded, his lids drifted closed. The tranquil expression smoothed the lines around his eyes, as though this place soothed him. “We’ll get the stuff into the house. The rest will be up to them.”

  Such a sweet gesture. She’d never known anyone with such a capacity for love. Whether he was working the land, helping a friend, or standing still under a clear, Texas sky—everything Clay did spoke of the man he was inside.

  Ainsley turned her attention back to the landscape. With help from the light of the moon, she took it all in. The lake. The trees. The endless starry sky. As Clay had done, she drew in the crisp night air, humming her pleasure at the peaceful beauty of it all.

  Clay’s fingers entwining with hers broke the spell. She glanced up to find him watching her, his expression clearly showing he was pleased with her reaction to being here. Wherever here was.

  “So, if the fishing cabin is over there, what’s this place used for?” she asked.

  He walked her up the steps and onto the deck. “This is where I live.” Clay muscled open the sliding door.

  “You don’t keep the door locked?”

  “Not much need this far out.” He hit the lights and ushered her inside.

  “Are we on Shadow Maverick land?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You want a beer or something?”

  What did that mean? Either they were or they weren’t.

  She followed him into the kitchen. “You got anything stronger?”

  He grabbed a bottle from the liquor cabinet. Whiskey. Her favorite brand, too. “I don’t have anything to mix with this. That okay?”

  “Perfect. If you’ve got any ice to pour it over, that’d be great.”

  “
I think I can manage some ice. You hungry?” He opened and closed a few more cabinets. “If you are, we’ll have to go back out. I don’t have much here.”

  “The drink will be fine, Clay. Thanks.” She turned to investigate the rest of the area. “This doesn’t look much like a bachelor pad.”

  For one, the kitchen was spotless. No clutter on the counters. No dishes piled in the sink. The living room was also unassuming. Oversized couch. Side table and lamp. Brown leather recliner. Coffee table. Flat screen TV. A basket of girly-looking books and toys in the corner—what’s up with that? Table for four in the nook to the side, top strewn with papers. Nothing fancy, but perfect for the man she’d come to know.

  Clay handed her a glass. “It’s not meant to be. I hardly do more than sleep here.” He hip-checked her. “And lately, I’m not even doing that.”

  She smiled. “Explains why it’s so clean.”

  He dropped onto the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “It’s clean because I’m not a slob. That’d be my younger brother, Jared.”

  Ainsley kicked off her shoes. She sat, curling her legs under and shifting so she could face him. “That sounded snarky. Don’t you and Jared get along?”

  He swirled the ice around in his glass before he took a sip. “Most times. But I think our parents are too soft on him. He gets away with more bullshit than the rest of us ever did. He’s seventeen—old enough to do his share around the ranch.”

  “I take it he doesn’t?”

  Clay ran a hand over his head, messing up his hair in the process. Ainsley couldn’t resist reaching out, following the path of his fingers through the silky strands.

  He encouraged her by leaning into her touch.

  “He’s got an attitude. Downright cocky at times. Cares more about football than his duty to family. And hey, if he doesn’t want to be a rancher for the rest of his life, more power to him. Gavin left for college and didn’t look back. Was gone more than fifteen years before he found his way home. It’s a hard life. It’s Jared’s choice if he wants to live it or not. Either way, it doesn’t give him the excuse to shirk his responsibilities while he’s still living there.”

 

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