by Myla Jackson
Moving to the next painting, she saw herself with her head thrown back, her eyes alight, the gray irises nearly black with passion.
Her pulse pounding, core tightening, she relived the intensity of making love to Brody amongst the stacks of boxes in the saloon storeroom. Her breath caught and held, and she pressed a hand to her chest in a half-assed attempt to still her thundering heart.
Footsteps sounded, headed her way. Even before she turned, Jessie knew who stood behind her as electricity filled the air. She turned and her heart broke all over again. Brody stood there in a black tuxedo, his dark hair slicked back and his brown eyes dark pools of secrets. God, he was so beautiful it made her want to cry all over again.
Brody had been watching for Jessie. When she arrived, he’d stood back, out of her view, observing her reaction to the paintings. As she passed each canvas, he felt as if he’d exposed another part of him, peeling back the layers of the walls he’d constructed around himself and the art he’d learned was so much a part of him.
He’d spent the past week and a half painting, amassing a collection of images that haunted him during the day and well after he fell asleep at night.
The room Jessie now stood in was his best work, every stroke coming straight from his heart.
When she turned to face him, he held his breath, afraid she’d be offended at how he’d depicted her in oil. He felt he’d made himself vulnerable to her, exposing his heart for the world to see. He’d painted these creations as a way to express how deep his emotions ran for Jessie.
Would she see what he did and know what it meant to him?
Her gaze rose to meet his, her face full of wonder. “You painted all of these?”
He nodded.
She turned to the painting of her face glowing with passion, her lips parted in a soft O as she succumbed to desire. “They’re so real…and…beautiful.” Jessie reached toward the painting as if to touch the woman.
Brody took her outstretched hand. “You’re not mad I painted you without your permission?”
“Mad?” She snorted and stared up at him, shaking her head. “I’m stunned. But you have it all wrong. I’m not nearly that beautiful.” She touched her hand to her straightened hair, heat rising into her cheeks.
He tugged her toward him and lifted her chin with his finger. “If you could see what I see, you’d know the paintings speak the truth.”
“You see me like that?” she whispered, her gaze shifting to his lips. Hunger burning from her gray-blue eyes.
Brody brushed his mouth across hers, tempted to forget everything else, but he couldn’t. Not until he said what he’d rehearsed a thousand times that day. He had to get it right, or risk losing the woman who’d fed his muse, breathed passion into his work and made him want to be a better man.
“Jessie, ever since I met you, my thoughts have been all over the place. I didn’t want to come home, and once I did, I didn’t want to stay.”
She drew in a sharp breath and nodded, her bottom lip trembling so slightly he thought he’d imagined it…until she bit down on it. “You always said you weren’t staying.”
Lifting her hands to his lips, he stepped closer. “Then I met a sassy cowgirl who could grill a burger like nobody’s business but couldn’t cook in a kitchen to save her life.”
Her brows knit and she stared down at where his hands held hers. “I’m learning,” she said, her voice catching.
“I don’t care if you burn every meal. You taught me something more important than putting dinner on the table.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to stare into his eyes. “You taught me how lucky I am to have a family, and not to neglect those very important relationships. They might not be around forever.”
Her lips quirked on the edges. “That was a no-brainer.”
“Maybe to you, but I was too busy thinking of myself to look around and care about others.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You also reminded me that home truly is where the heart is.”
“Would that be in Seattle?” she asked so softly he barely heard her words.
Brody shook his head. “No.”
She glanced around the room. “Dallas?”
“No.” He brushed his lips across hers. “It’s anywhere you are.”
“Me?” she said, touching a hand to her breast. Tears welled in her eyes. “But you’re going back to Seattle.”
“If I asked you to go with me, would you?”
She stared at him for a long time. “Don’t tease me, Brody. I couldn’t bear it if you were only pulling my leg.”
“You didn’t answer me,” he prompted.
“Would Scout be welcome? He’s all the family I have left.”
“Scout will always be welcome.”
“Then, yes.” She slid her hands around his neck. “Yes, Scout and I would follow you to Seattle, Bozeman, San Francisco and Timbuktu.” She leaned her forehead against the lapels of his suit. “Just don’t leave without me because, you see, I’ve made the ultimate blunder and fallen in love with you, your mother and your two brothers. I want to be with you and all of your family.”
He drew her into his arms and cradled the back of her head. “It’s a good thing, darlin’, because I plan on staying at the Rafter M Ranch for a very long time and I want you with me.”
A sob rising up her throat, Jessie flung herself into his arms and clung to him.
He kissed her long and hard, his tongue pushing past her teeth to claim hers.
Brody forgot where he was and would have gone on all night, kissing Jessie, but someone cleared her throat at the other end of the room, breaking through the haze of happiness.
His mother stood in the entrance to the room, Colin and Angus at her side. She beamed from ear to ear, touching a hand to her chest. “Oh, Brody. I didn’t know you had so much talent. I’m your mother. I should know these things.”
Brody pulled Jessie into the crook of his arm and faced his family. “I didn’t tell anyone. The only reason Angus knew was because he caught me red-handed with my paints, canvas and easel out at the hunting cabin.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were so well-known?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how you and my brothers would react to finding out your son and their brother was an artist.”
“Are you kidding me?” Colin burst into the room and hugged Brody, pounding him on the back. “I can’t get over what you’ve accomplished. It’s…” he shook his head, “…it’s amazing. And to think, I knew Brody McFarlan when he was a country boy on the ranch.” He grinned and glanced at the paintings in the room, his eyes rounding. “Wow. And these are even better than the landscapes.”
Angus, Colin and Mrs. M studied the paintings, their brows furrowing.
Mrs. M was first to say something as she stood in front of the creek painting. “Is this who I think it is?” She faced Jessie and winked. “You’re beautiful, my dear. And it might interest you to know that Brody was conceived in that pool.”
Angus and Colin both studied the painting and looked back at Jessie.
“I don’t know if I’d want my girlfriend’s naked body hanging in an art gallery for all to see,” Colin said.
“You can’t see anything important,” Jessie said. “And I’m flattered he made me look better than I really look.”
Angus and Colin both stared at her.
“You’re kidding, right?” Angus said.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” Colin asked. “You’re freakin’ gorgeous.”
Jessie’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you.”
“If you’ll excuse us, I wanted to show Jessie something.” Brody grabbed Jessie’s hand and led her toward the door.
Behind them, Mrs. M said, “Two down. One to go.”
Jessie glanced over her shoulder, wondering what the woman meant.
Mrs. McFarlan had leveled her gaze on Colin. “You’d better get busy. The two months are almost up.”
Curious, Jessie almost stopped to ask, but Brody
had other plans for her and she didn’t want to let him out of her sight.
He led her through the gallery, waylaid by half a dozen people who wanted to congratulate him on his work and increasing sales.
Brody nodded politely, thanked them and pressed forward.
At the back of the gallery was a hall with a door at the end. He didn’t slow until they were through the door. He closed and locked it behind them.
“What is it you wanted to show me?” Jessie asked, glancing around a darkened room with a long white-leather couch and mahogany desk. “Did you save one of your paintings in here?”
“No. I wanted to do this.” Brody pulled her into his arms and kissed her all over again.
She gripped the lapels of his tuxedo and dragged him down, kissing him back. When she came up to catch a breath, she asked, “The door’s locked?”
He nodded, breathing fast, his cock pressing against the zipper of his trousers.
Jessie shoved the jacket over his shoulders and hung it on a coatrack in the corner. Then she reached behind her, fumbling for the zipper on the back of her dress.
“Here.” Brody’s hands descended on her arms and he turned her. “Let me.”
In one long, slow glide, he lowered the zipper all the way down her back to the top of the rounded swells of her ass, the crease clearly visible.
Brody’s groin tightened and his cock grew rock-hard.
She wasn’t wearing panties beneath the slim-fitting black dress.
He groaned and slipped a hand inside the zipper, cupping her bottom. “Sweet Jessie.”
Brody brushed aside her hair and nuzzled the back of her neck.
She shrugged out of the dress and let the front fall, catching on her hips.
Not only was she pantyless, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She raised his hands to cup her breasts and leaned into him, her head falling back onto his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be out there with your fans?” she said, her words more a sexy moan, her hand guiding his down to the juncture of her thighs.
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” he said, sliding a finger between her folds, stroking the sliver of flesh that made her chest expand with an indrawn breath.
“You aren’t going back to Seattle?”
“No,” he whispered into her ear. “Everything I need is here.”
He pushed her dress over her hips and it slid to the floor around her ankles. Brody swung her up into his arms, strode across the floor to the huge mahogany desk and sat her on the edge of the smooth surface.
She parted her knees, her sexy sandals sparkling in the muted light from a corner lamp. Jessie reached for the buttons on his shirt and flicked them open one at a time. “I missed you.”
“Will you be satisfied with an artist for the man in your life?”
“You’ll always be the cowboy I fell for, and more. These hands…” she held one up and drew her finger along the lifeline in his palm and out to the tips of his fingers, “…are even more remarkable than I’d given them credit for. And they were pretty amazing to begin with.”
“I’m learning that with the right muse, there’s no end to what I can do.” He cupped her cheek and bent to capture her lips.
She reached for the button on his trousers and pushed it through the hole, then slid his zipper down. His cock sprang free and she wrapped her hand around its hard length, guiding him home.
As he thrust into her, he knew this was where he belonged. With her. In Texas. Surrounded by the family he loved.
About the Author
Twenty years of livin’ and lovin’ on a South Texas ranch, raising horses, cattle, ostriches and emus, left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all kinds, including historical westerns, medieval, romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormals with beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. When she’s not wrangling words from her computer, she’s snow skiing, boating, riding her ATV or spending time with family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of twenty-plus years and her muses—human wannabe canines Chewy and Sweetpea.
To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories, visit her website at www.mylajackson.com.
Look for these titles by Myla Jackson
Now Available:
Ugly Stick Saloon
Boots and Chaps
Boots and Leather
Boots and Bareback
Boots and Lace
Boots and Roses
Boots and Buckles
Boots and Twisters
Boots and Wishes
Boots and the Bachelor
Boots and the Rogue
Hearts & Heroes
Wyatt’s War
Mack’s Witness
Bound and Tied
Honor Bound
Duty Bound
River Bound
Print Collections
Bound and Tied
Don’t miss these other titles by Myla Jackson
A cowboy takes a woman and her son under his wing, and teaches their hearts to fly.
Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 9
Angus McFarlan’s mother can’t be serious. Sell the ranch? Yet Mom has a point. Bringing the Rafter M out of bankruptcy has kept Angus and his brother too busy to date, let alone have children to inherit the legacy.
The last thing Angus wants is to get half-naked for the Ugly Stick Saloon’s Annual Cowboy Auction, but it’s a jumpstart into the dating scene. His buyer turns out to be a Dallas businesswoman, all legs and curves—a challenge to unwrap from that sexy, buttoned down suit.
CEO Gwendolyn Graves has no time for a relationship. All she needs is a male role model for her young son, Dalton. She never thought her bachelor cowboy would impose conditions of his own. Like make her agree to spend time with him. Alone.
As Angus teaches Dalton what it means to be a man, he and Gwen discover a passion that ignites flames they thought they didn’t have time to fan. And soon find themselves learning how to open their hearts and be a family. Just when they start thinking longer term, Dalton’s father reenters the picture—and trouble isn’t far behind.
Warning: Quiet, sexy cowboy and woman in a tight suit get all unwrapped and tangled in the sheets in Texas.
The best gift has nothing to do with the size of the package.
Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 8
Married to the love of her life, Audrey Anderson is ready to get this baby show on the road. Except six months of timing sex around her ovaries’ cycle has not only dampened their spontaneity, it hasn’t worked. She’s still not pregnant.
Jackson would love to give Audrey half a dozen children, but he can’t stand the heartache in her eyes as each month goes by with no “plus” sign on the test strip. Hell, he’s ready to call it and concentrate on just being a happy couple.
When a runaway mother arrives at the Ugly Stick with a newborn in tow and needing a job, Audrey, ever the tender heart, takes them in—at the saloon and her home—despite the baby’s presence being a constant reminder of her own empty arms.
Baby Mia turns out to be a blessing in disguise, but just as life settles into a rhythm as pleasant as a cow pony’s lope, the runaway mama’s painful past comes roaring after her with the force of a prairie tornado, threatening to destroy anything in its path, including Audrey and the Ugly Stick Saloon.
Warning: It’s the holiday season at the Ugly Stick and time to wrap the saloon in mistletoe. No need for hot cocoa, there’s enough pull-out-all-the-stops heat between this sexy bar owner and her handsome cowboy to keep every reader warm.
Two ranchers are about to get Lucky—in more ways than one.
Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 7
Lucky Albright’s unlucky streak is so long and wide that she’s been run out of one town and it looks like it may happen again.
When she finds herself out of money and out of gas in Temptation, Texas, a part-time job from the kind owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon gives h
er a glimmer of hope that this time things will be different.
Trent Jameson and Isaac Moore have always believed you make your own luck, but a black cloud of disaster seems to hover over their new hand. Under a tumbling stack of hay, Isaac discovers what Lucky’s hiding beneath baggy clothes and a tough exterior. Enough sexy curves to satisfy both men’s appetites.
But it isn’t long before Lucky’s history starts wreaking havoc all over town. It’ll take a force of nature to help the ranchers convince the law, the Garden Club—even Lucky herself—that now is no time to hit the road.
Warning: Hot cowboys meet hot cowgirl, and there’s a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on in Temptation. Get your twist-and-shout on at the Ugly Stick Saloon!
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They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Boots and The Rogue
Copyright © 2015 by Myla Jackson
ISBN: 978-1-61922-875-7
Edited by Christa Soule
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
