Cowboy-Sexy

by Donna Michaels

  “Good morning, Cammie.”

  The woman smiled, looking patriotic in white jeans, short-sleeved red blouse, and full-sized navy blue apron with strings tied several times around her small waist.

  “You’re just in time. Have a seat.”

  She motioned to the table where Terry sat watching their hostess with an appreciative gleam.

  “I don’t want to impose. I just came in for some coffee.”

  “Nonsense. You’re not imposing, and you have to have more than just coffee.” Rose waved the spatula at Cammie, then made a face. “Unless you’re one of those girls who only nibbles on toast for breakfast.”

  Cammie laughed as she took a seat. “No, you can ask Brett. I’ve been known to put it away like the big boys.”

  “Well, you have what you want, dear. And I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk about getting you a dress for the party.”

  She frowned. “Yeah, I don’t have anything appropriate.”

  “I’ll see when Finn is going into town. I don’t care to drive, and I’m not good at directions so I wouldn’t want to try to direct you.”

  Cammie nodded, less than thrilled at the prospect of another truck ride with the virile man.

  “Speaking of Finn, you just missed him.” Her hostess transferred scrambled eggs to a plate and placed the steaming pile on the table. “He grabbed a coffee, threw eggs and bacon on a muffin, and headed to the weight room to meet his physical therapist.”

  “Oh, that sounds good. Do you mind if I do the same?” Cammie asked, already piling the fixings on a muffin. Brett had mentioned Finn’s physical therapist and she wanted to talk to the guy to see if he could help her, too.

  “Of course not. There are travel mugs in the cupboard on the right.”

  She quickly found the mug and fixed her coffee, then went back to the table for her sandwich. “Which way is it to the weight room, again?”

  Cammie was still smiling as she crossed the foyer and headed down the hall, letting the music lead the way. She liked the song. Her unit often worked out to classic rock while in Iraq.

  Happy memories accompanied her to the weight room’s opened door where the last of her breakfast sandwich stuck in her suddenly dried throat. A shirtless Finn sat on the leg-press machine, the weights on the pulley echoing her thudding heart. She leaned against the door frame and slowly sipped her coffee, enjoying the eye-candy in private.

  At that angle, Finn’s profile held a mixture of determination and pain. The epitome of the man.

  He was determined to be a pain.

  When he finished and stood, she ignored the foreign urge to flee and stepped further into the room.

  The stunned trainer did a double take before turning the music down. “Hello.”

  He had to be six-foot-four and an easy two-hundred-fifty pounds, but until that moment, she hadn’t even noticed him.

  That’s because you were busy drooling over the Navy cowboy.

  “I’m Finn’s trainer, Clint Cavanaugh.”

  He held out his hand, green gaze both friendly and admiring.

  “Cammie Walker. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m…” She paused, shaking his big hand, steeling herself to force out the rest.

  “She’s my fiancée,” Finn announced, pulling her against his damp torso.

  Navy cowboy probably thought she’d be turned off by his clammy state.

  Wrong. Holding her coffee in one hand, she slid the other around Finn’s waist and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

  If the trainer looked stunned before, he was even more so now. His wide gaze snapped to Finn. “You got engaged and didn’t tell me?”

  Finn smiled. “Easy there, bear. It just happened yesterday.”

  She lifted her head and smiled. “Our party is this Sunday at two. You should come.”

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t miss it.” Clint shoved a hand toward Finn. “Congratulations, buddy. This is wonderful news.”

  She took the opportunity to release her fiancé and step away from temptation as the two men shook hands. A few seconds later, her mind cleared and she remembered why she was there.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your session. I was just wondering if you could fit me into your schedule, too, Clint.”

  “You? Sure.” He blinked. “Did you need something specific worked on?”

  She glanced at Finn. He stood there, arms folded, gaze trained on her face.

  Damn. She had hoped to just set a time and discuss the particulars later, but couldn’t ignore the question.

  “Yes. My core.”

  Clint eyed her waist. “If you don’t mind me saying, your core appears to be fine.”

  Once again, she glanced at her fiancé. He cocked his head and waited for her to continue. So much for keeping him in the dark about her old injury. She turned back to the trainer, determined to keep it vague.

  “Two years ago I was wounded in a bomb attack and seven months ago I had an operation to repair it. My doctor has now given me the all clear to start serious rehab.”

  “Do you have your medical records?”

  “Yes, in my email.”

  “Good. You can access them later.” Clint pointed to a laptop on a small desk in the corner. “We’ll get started right after I’m done with Finn. Say, in about a half hour.”

  “Perfect. Thanks.” She nodded then turned to Finn. His blue eyes glinted. Great. Cowboy-Grumpy’s pissed. Unable to resist adding fuel to the fire, she rose up on tip-toe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

  Before he could respond, she left the room and headed upstairs to change. Disapproval radiated from the former SEAL. Too bad. Just let him try to stop her from working with Terry.

  ****

  “I don’t want Cammie working with you in the stables anymore,” Finn ordered Terry, anger ruling his strides, carrying him across the threshold and into the stable in record time.

  He couldn’t believe both Brett and Cammie neglected to tell him about her injury. What was his brother thinking? The woman could harm herself further, and then what? Sue? That’s all they needed. His gut told him she wasn’t that type of person. Didn’t matter. The fact remained she could get hurt.

  Not on my watch. End of story.

  “What?” Terry planted his pitchfork in the bale of hay he was separating, then straightened and twisted to face him. “Why not? What happened?”

  “Did you know she had an operation seven months ago?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did I, but I bet Brett knew.” His jaw clenched.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “What do you mean, what’s the problem? The woman shouldn’t be bending and lifting, that’s the problem.”

  Terry narrowed his eyes. “How do you know all this?”

  “She told me…well, me and Clint.”

  “Your PT?”

  Finn nodded.

  “Why’d she tell him?”

  “She asked him to help her with therapy. Said something about working on her core.”

  “Seems to me bending and lifting is good for the core, if done properly.”

  He didn’t like being lied to. It was a lie of omission, but it was still a lie. Finn stepped closer and thrust a finger at his foreman. “I don’t want her working in the stable.”

  “Ah, come on, Finn. Look at this place. The woman was here only half a day and look what she did.” Terry made a sweeping motion with his hand while turning in a circle.

  For the first time since entering the building, Finn noticed a semblance of order to the stable. Everything was stacked neatly, hay bales, buckets, feed bins, even pitch forks had their own spot against the side wall.

  “There isn’t even a stray piece of hay in the walkway. Not one,” Terry crooned, removing his hat to scratch his head.

  “The place looks great, but I still don’t want her working in here. You got that?”

  A curvy shadow fell across the doorway. His heart rate increased and body
instantly jumped on alert. Why the hell did he react that way to the damn woman? Finn swiveled around, ready for battle.

  Cammie stepped inside, indignation ruling her strides. “Why not?”

  “Because I said so,” Finn snapped. “You just had an operation seven months ago. I don’t want you in here risking re-injury.”

  “Look, I already explained things to your brother and Clint. The doctor cleared me.”

  “I don’t care. You’re not working in here,” he repeated, marching to where she stood, completely irritated with her lack of concern for her own welfare. She must’ve been hell to control in combat. He suddenly felt sorry for his brother. Brett had had his hands full.

  She straightened to her full height and stared him down, brown eyes flashing like fire water. “You’re not my C.O. You can’t order me around.”

  “Wrong. Brett’s the only one who can order you to go home,” he corrected, lowering his voice when the two college stable hands entered the building. “But I am the one who can tell you where to work on this ranch.”

  She softened her expression, then sauntered closer to finger his collar.

  “And what would you have me do, Finn?” she asked in a quiet, sultry voice.

  Her complete about-face had his heartbeats kicking the hell out of his ribcage. He stiffened. What was she up to?

  Stifled snickers quickly enlightened him. She was keeping up appearance, playing the dutiful fiancée, you idiot. For a moment there he thought…

  Didn’t matter what he thought.

  Terry sent the boys a look. They grabbed pitchforks before disappearing into a nearby stall.

  Cammie removed her hands from his chest and stepped back. “Well? Where do you want me to work? With you?”

  “No.” The last thing he needed was her around, countermanding his orders as he guided guests on the horse trail. “Why don’t you help my mom and Aunt Lettie with the party details?”

  She blinked, then smiled broadly, her gaze bouncing between him and Terry. “No, I mean really. What do you want me to do?”

  “I told you, help my mother. Most women enjoy planning parties.”

  She stiffened, every trace of amusement gone from her face. “I’m not most women, Navy. Don’t confuse me with your ex-girlfriend. I’m not Heather.”

  He inhaled strong and swift. “No, you’re not.”

  Heather was sweet and non-confrontational, not a willful control freak like the lieutenant in front of him.

  He was the boss, not her, and it was high time he showed her just who was in charge.

  Finn stepped forward, slowly stalking the woman, purposefully invading her personal space until she was forced to retreat. The Marine backed up until her incredible backside hit the wall, stopping her escape. Satisfaction warmed his blood. Chalk one up for Navy.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered.

  Brown eyes widened with a mixture of apprehension, and God help him, desire. He palmed the wall on either side of her head and smiled down, beginning to enjoy the situation.

  “I’m showing those college boys, and you, who’s boss.”

  The instant she opened her mouth to protest, he pressed into her delectable curves and captured those tempting, objectionable lips.

  The Stetson fell off his head, but he didn’t care. Over and over, he nipped, drank and tasted, taking advantage of her surprised state. He was on a mission. A mission to teach the headstrong Marine a lesson.

  Now was the time to pull away, to leave her staring after him, wanting more. Everything was perfect. He had an audience of three who could verify he had effectively shut the woman up.

  But when her tense body unexpectedly softened, his goal became fuzzy. The hands on his chest, holding him at bay, suddenly snaked around his back and pulled him in closer. Her sweet, yielding mouth turned hot and demanding, and Finn had all he could do to hold back a groan.

  She tasted incredible, and her lack of resistance fueled his hunger. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth to capture her essence for his very own. She trembled against him and his body responded with a slow, consuming burn.

  Instead of drawing away, he dropped his hands to her waist and held tight as their tongues tangled and explored. Heaven help him, he never wanted any woman so bad or so fast in his life. She took him from zero to sixty inside of two seconds.

  So much for his goal.

  Goal. The stray thought infiltrated his haze like ground penetrating radar. This woman wasn’t part of his ultimate goal. Neither was the ranch.

  Three months from now, right around the time his brother was due to return, Finn had an appointment with the military doctors. If he passed the physical, he was back in the Navy. His goal.

  All the therapy and training weren’t just to get back the use of his leg. He wanted his life back. The Navy was in his blood. He missed the SEALs. He never felt more alive than when he helped someone and faced death in the process.

  And this vibrant woman in his arms had seen enough death.

  He broke the kiss and released her, steeling himself against touching her swollen lips. She was trouble with a capital T.

  Finn swiped his hat from the ground and worked to control his raging heartbeats. When he straightened, he locked gazes with the obstinate woman. He didn’t know if he expected to see anger or desire, but neither was present. She simply leaned against the wall and smiled lazily at him.

  Need sucker-punched his gut.

  “Well played, Navy.” She took the hat from his hand and placed it on his head. “That was the only way to shut me up.”

  The woman was too damn smart for his own good.

  He returned her smile. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Apprehension pushed the amusement from her expression. Good. He preferred her on guard.

  Finn swiveled around to face their audience. “Well, fellas, I’ll leave you to it. Just remember what I said. Cammie is not to work in here.”

  Her intake of breath pulled his lips into a smile. He turned and strode out the door, leaving her and the three men to stare after him.

  Yes, he much preferred to be the one in control.

  ****

  “The man’s an idiot. Cute as hell, but an idiot,” Cammie told Terry shortly after Cowboy-Sexy had disappeared from the stable.

  “He’s also my boss, and he ordered me not to let you work in here, Cammie. I’m sorry.” The older man shook his head, staring at the empty doorway. “And it’s a shame. I really could use you.”

  “Well, then,” she said, straightening her spine. “What else can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. You heard Finn. He said—”

  “I couldn’t help you in the stables.” She finished the sentence for him, then winked. “But…he did not say anything about outside. So, what needs to be done out there?” She nodded toward the opened door.

  “She could work on the fences in the east corral,” one of the college boys suggested.

  “Yeah, we’ll show her where it is,” the other offered.

  Cammie turned to Terry and smiled. “See? It’s settled. I won’t work in here. I’ll work outside.”

  “I don’t know.” The older man hesitated.

  “Don’t worry about it. This is all on me. Finn can’t blame you. Just go about your business and forget you heard anything.” She ushered the foreman toward the hay, then turned to the young men. “Now, let’s grab what we need, and you can show me that fence.”

  The sun was just touching the picturesque mountains when Cammie walked into the house that evening. It had been a long but fruitful day, and for the first time in a long time, she felt fulfilled.

  The college boys had instructed her on how to fix the fence, and a half hour later she had enough of a grasp on things to send them back to the stables. The rest of the day was spent checking rail after rail, until daylight started to fade. She’d gotten half the corral done. Tomorrow she’d work on the other half.

  With her shower out of the way,
she was walking across the bedroom when Finn burst through the door. Whatever he’d been about to say remained his secret as his dark gaze dropped to her towel. He clamped his jaw and strode to the bathroom, slamming the door instead.

  Cammie sank onto the bench and inhaled, wondering what had suddenly happened to all the air. She sprang to her feet. Who knew how long he’d be in there. Keeping an eye on the door, she pulled on her underclothes, tan kakis and a white short-sleeved shirt, slipped her feet into her sandals and was towel drying her hair when he emerged...

  Completely naked.

  Chapter Seven

  The air disappeared from the room again, but not before Cammie sucked a good portion into her lungs. Damn. The hard glint in Finn’s eyes confirmed he did that on purpose. She twisted around and swallowed, but not before ever bit of him was imprinted into her soul.

  The man was…perfect.

  Even the purple brown scars covering his leg like a tattoo gone wrong did nothing to lessen his manhood. She swallowed again. There was nothing small about his manhood.

  Every part of her body responded to his, and she had all she could do to keep her gaze averted when he stepped beside her to root in his part of the closet. Her insides quivered with a longing she hadn’t felt in years.

  They didn’t even know each other. He wasn’t really her fiancé. And the last time she felt this way, she was engaged to a man she loved. This is wrong.

  As nonchalant as possible, she straightened and walked to the bathroom, clutching her damp towel. Once inside, she drew in more air and instantly regretted the action. His scent tantalized and engulfed, wrapping around her like a pair of strong arms. She glanced at the opened door. Neither space was safe. She closed her eyes, working to quiet her mind. He was just a man.

  A man who hated the Corps.

  That single thought made her stronger. She opened her eyes, draped her towel next to his on the rack, then turned to the mirror and brushed her hair into a ponytail, trying not to think about Finn’s odd behavior. She failed. The man made no sense. One minute he was yelling at her, the next he was ignoring her and the next he was kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough.

  She straightened her shoulders and walked back into the room, telling herself she was glad to find him dressed in jeans and a tan, buttoned-down shirt.