A Rancher’s Song

by Vivian Arend

  Ivy had been thinking more about the courage it had taken for Ginny to up and leave her family. Ivy knew the other woman was a lot more vivacious and outgoing than she was, but still—Ginny wasn’t in familiar territory and she was facing new challenges all by herself.

  She mentioned that to Walker as he pulled her to the grass at the far side of the lake, tucking her between his legs and tugging until her back rested against his chest and she was using him as a recliner.

  He made low noise. “Don’t know that it’s any braver than what you did. You left home, all of your family, and all the rest of us. You didn’t have anybody with you then, either.”

  Truth. And that was only part of what she’d faced alone. She still didn’t know how her parents had kept the small-town gossip chain from finding out every bit of her business while she’d been gone.

  She leaned her head against his chest, and they watched as the moon rose behind the hills to the east of Silver Stone. “Going to university was busy enough I didn’t notice most of the time. But I really did miss seeing the family, and I missed you an awful lot.”

  Ivy didn’t want this moment to be gloomy, but in case he’d been thinking she’d walked away and never once regretted everything they’d put on hold, she had to share.

  His cheek brushed hers, stubble scratching her skin lightly. “We’re here now, so let’s focus on this, not days we can’t reclaim.”

  She tilted her head and offered her lips.

  Walker didn’t need any coaxing. He leaned in and kissed her, the hand around her back cradling her close as he enticed her with the sweet, addictive pressure of his lips over hers.

  The hand at her waist untucked her blouse, his palms skimming over her bare skin, sliding upward until he was once again cupping a breast.

  Just holding her, a tease of an entirely different kind than she’d expected. She leaned back, staring into his eyes. “We’re right out in the open so we have to keep this from getting too dirty, but I’m considering not wearing a bra when we get together from now on.”

  His eyes widened for a second before he chuckled. “Not that I have any problem with those plans, but any particular reason?”

  “You seem to have forgotten how to undo them. I’d hate to be the one keeping you from your goal.”

  “Oh, you mean this?” He rotated his hand slightly, the soft center of his palm teasing the fabric over her nipple. “Ivy Fields, are you saying I’m not moving fast enough for you?”

  She was up in a flash, rotating and resettling herself in his lap so her butt rested on his thighs and they were face to face.

  “You are going too slowly,” she said, enunciating each word carefully.

  Laughter burst from him, his eyes bright with amusement. “If you want my hands on your breasts, you’re facing the wrong way.”

  Damn. He was right.

  Before she could do anything about it, his strong hands caught hold of her hips and dragged her forward the final couple inches it took for their torsos to connect.

  He was hard. The thick length behind his jeans made contact with the sensitive parts between her legs, and suddenly the thin cotton of her slacks seemed far too much of a barrier.

  And far too little as their lips met again. Walker took control of her hips, rocking slowly so that the faintest pressure teased over and over. Like a drop of water falling in a steady stream from a leaking tap—enough to be heard and yet not enough to actually fill a cup without waiting a long, long time.

  They were right in the open, but Ivy was rapidly losing any sense of propriety. It was late enough Caleb’s girls were either asleep or cuddled in arms by the fire, and those were the only people Ivy didn’t want to stumble over her fooling around with their uncle.

  The rest of them? If anyone else strolled this far from the party, they were probably looking for space alone with someone themselves.

  As she untucked and unbuttoned Walker’s shirt so she could slide her hands over his torso, the faintest prickle of pride struck that she had moved on far enough from her early years of shyness to be able to have such radical thoughts.

  Then she wasn’t thinking because her hands were on his body, and feeling was so much better than using her brain.

  He slid his hands up her back, her shirt rising over his wrists. Cool night air brushed her rib cage and her back. Heat enveloped her from the front as she continued to explore, palms skimming the hair on his chest. That hadn’t been there years ago, and she leaned away from his kiss so she could admire him, fingertips stroking through the curls.

  His lips twitched. “You’re petting me.”

  She caught hold of his nipple and squeezed, his body jerking under her and making their hips bump.

  “I’m exploring,” she corrected him.

  A low rumble began in his chest, and his hands rose high enough to unsnap her bra. He had hold of her hips again, and the slow, relentless tease resumed. He seemed unaware he was driving her crazy.

  Walker nibbled her lips and narrowed his focus to torment her, and he was terribly, terribly effective between his mouth and that rocking motion. Now that he’d unhooked her bra, the cups slowly slid out of position until the strap that normally rested along her rib cage rose to land in a direct line with her nipples.

  Every time he moved her, the strap teased until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Not nice,” she complained, mumbling the words against his mouth.

  “I want to explore too,” he whispered.

  The next thing she knew, she was rising in the air. Her hand shot out to grab his shoulders, but he was twisting and resettling her in his lap. Once again her back was against his chest, this time with one of his strong thighs rising between her legs.

  It seemed a little awkward at first until he sat upright, pressing her forward as he tucked his thigh in tighter, and suddenly pressure bloomed between her legs.

  When both his hands snuck under her blouse and shifted upward, she realized the boy she’d had her first sexual experiences with so long ago had grown into a very, very inventive man.

  Her bra was no longer tormenting her. Instead it was his hands, cool at first as he cupped her. Firm and steady as if he was weighing his options. Weighing her. Squeezing gently before sending his palms in circles.

  Multitasking, his mouth settled on her neck as he kissed his way up to behind her ear.

  Swamped with sensation, Ivy still had one complaint. “I can’t touch you.”

  “Relax and enjoy yourself,” Walker murmured in her ear before giving it a teasing lick. “I’m having fun.”

  He copied her move from before, pinching her nipples lightly. Electric bubbles zinged through her bloodstream, setting off sparks. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder before giving into the temptation to move her hips.

  Rocking against his firm thigh increased the ache growing in her sex.

  “I wasn’t going to do this, but damn if I can resist.” Walker’s left hand slid back and forth over her breasts, his nails trailing over her nipples and her skin in a way that set her nerve endings dancing.

  His other hand? Her slacks gave way too easily. In an instant, he had them unbuttoned and unzipped, and he eased his leg out of the way to make room for his fingers.

  Sliding over the front panel of her underwear, he cupped her sex.

  She moaned in frustration. “There are no hooks to undo down there. And I don’t know that I’m brave enough to threaten to stop wearing panties.”

  He chuckled softly. “It’s not a barrier that’s going to stop me for long. I’m enjoying how soft they are. Silk?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t have many vices, but pretty bras and underwear had become something of an addiction before she’d learned to set a budget.

  Walker seemed happy with her choices, and she sucked for air as he pressed one finger tighter against her, pushing the thin fabric until he made contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves that was screaming for attention.

  “
Walker—”

  It was as close to begging as she could get without actually saying the words.

  His finger rotated slowly, the even pressure triggering a needy buzz. His teeth scraped along her neck, and his breathing picked up. “Dammit, Snow. You make me want things I shouldn’t want.”

  Ivy clutched his forearm, feeling the tendons move as he stroked his fingers against her clit over and over again. “There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing,” she whispered.

  Except they might have chosen a wiser location.

  “What I want to do is strip you naked, right here and now. I want to drop between your legs and put my mouth on you so I can taste the sweet honey coating my fingers.” He growled again, and for one horrible, terrible moment he took his hand away.

  Thank God it was to shove aside her panties and slide his fingers against her wet core. He stroked a half-dozen times, slipping in to the first knuckle.

  He took his hand away completely, lifted it to his mouth, and sucked his fingers with an appreciative moan.

  She tilted her head to watch, uncertain what to focus on. His hand crushing her breasts? The fire in his eyes? His hmmm of approval won out as his wet fingers returned between her legs, slipping under the gusset until he could curl his thick digits inside her.

  Her legs fell open wider, and when he put his thumb against her clit, she buried her groan against his torso.

  Faster. Faster, his hand moved in syncopated timing as the pressure on her clit increased enough to send her close to orgasm. He still held her breasts, his face tucked close to hers as if he were whispering secrets. His arm wrapped around her. From a distance they probably looked as if they were enjoying a quiet moment, innocent and sweet, as the moonrise slid over them.

  Innocent. But the dirty truth was that he was fucking her with his fingers in public.

  And with that image, the demand between her legs was answered. She sighed out her pleasure, and he swallowed it, mouth meeting hers as he adjusted position enough to roll them slightly, his fingers between her legs still moving, dragging out her pleasure. Making her want to weep because this was Walker, and his touch and his kiss were tangled up in all the right kinds of connection and intimacy.

  While the aftershocks slowed, his caress continued, delicate now. Softer. Easing her down.

  She was embarrassingly wet, and yet too relaxed and content to be worried about it. “Thank you.”

  Walker pulled his hand from her pants and reached around to put things to rights before twisting them both until they lay on the grass side by side. Pale silver light shone over them and revealed a contented expression on his face. “My pleasure.”

  He caught her and pulled her against him, and they relaxed in the warm summer air, covered with moonlight, his heart pounding under her ear. Whatever was going on, and whatever choices he needed to make, this part was right.

  Taking as much of this man as she could and making new memories was right. This time had been his turn to give, next would be hers, but being together—that was what was important. She didn’t want to give that up.

  Ivy lay cradled in his arms as he played with her hair and hummed softly, the melody escaping him somewhere between a lullaby and the soundtrack to a really heartfelt movie.

  12

  Walker couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy.

  After their intimate moment down by the lake and the sweet cuddle together afterward, he and Ivy hadn’t bothered to rejoin the party. She’d been nearly asleep in his arms, all warm and relaxed when he’d realized she was peopled out.

  He’d walked her to her car, stolen another kiss, then given her a pat on the butt before tucking her behind the wheel.

  Temptation called him to trail her home and follow up on the rest of the promises their bodies had made.

  His cock ached and he wanted more of her, but at the same time the evening seemed perfect, even ending with the edge of frustration on his side. The fact he was choosing the speed, and deciding to take it slow as they rekindled their physical connection, made all the difference.

  The next couple of days got busy again, because even though Ginny said she was there for a holiday, his little sister wanted to spend time visiting every bit of the ranch, exclaiming how much it had changed during the year she’d been gone. And she’d decided she needed an escort as she did her reminiscing rounds, hauling one brother at a time out with her for a few hours.

  Walker figured it was her version of quality time, which worked for him. They’d always had a good relationship, and even though she and Dare had been tied up in super-glue-strength knots made of female friendship before they’d become family, the three of them were close enough in age that he’d been a part of their mischief for a lot of it.

  That was the good part of the days. The bad?

  That part came when he walked around the corner in the barn after coming back from the far fields and ran smack dab into Luke and Kelli in the midst of an enormous fight. Only a few words later, it was clear the argument wasn’t personal.

  Kelli glared at Luke. “You’re not my boss. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  He had her pinned against the wall of a pen, glaring down from his extra foot of height. “I’m one of your bosses, and I want a name, now.”

  Walker hurried forward. “Luke, quit crowding her.”

  His brother glanced up, blinking as if surprised anyone else was around. “What?”

  “You’re scaring her,” Walker said softly, stepping to Kelli’s side and catching hold of her hand before she could escape. “You okay?”

  “She’s not okay, and I want to know right now who the hell gave her those bruises.”

  Oh shit. Walker eased his grasp on her wrist, but he didn’t let go. “Kelli? What’s going on?”

  All the fight seemed to go out of her, and she inched closer to him as if she didn’t feel entirely safe with Luke, which Walker didn’t blame her for one damn bit.

  “It’s none of his business,” she began.

  “Don’t go there,” Walker ordered. “What bruises?”

  She glared at him this time. “Maybe it’s none of your business, either.”

  “Her whole left arm, and the side of her neck,” Luke butted in. “And don’t try and give me a line about how you fell off a horse, because number one, you don’t fall, and number two, the ground doesn’t leave finger marks.”

  “Luke, go away.” Walker put as much authority into the command as possible before stepping between his brother and Kelli. He made a barrier so she couldn’t escape without crowding her, then bent his knees until their eyes were on the same level. He lowered his voice. “Look, it isn’t my business, unless it is. Did you get those bruises from something you didn’t mind was happening?”

  While she might seem to live twenty-four/seven with the horses, people had different kinks, and he wasn’t about to let Luke make her feel bad about it if the bruises were consensual.

  Kelli slowed right down as if there were a cone of silence around them, staring into his face as if making a judgment call. She glanced over his shoulder once, but thankfully Luke had taken the hint and disappeared from sight.

  She opened her mouth and took a deep breath, and he was sure she was going to tell some bullshit lie when her face twisted up and she stepped against him, curling in like one of the kittens hiding from a predator.

  Walker held her until she finished crying, patting her back and making soothing noises as best he could.

  He glanced over her shoulder. Luke was there again, grim death in his eyes, and when Walker motioned for him to step away, Luke’s expression said more than the shake of his head.

  So be it. He had a crying woman to deal with first. Then he’d stop his brother from committing murder.

  “Kelli? You’ve got to talk to me, sweetheart.”

  She made a rattling sound as she sniffed and brought herself back to vertical, still hiding against him even as she used the back of her sleeve to wipe her e
yes. “I didn’t want the bruises. It wasn’t like that.”

  Jesus. Walker’s gut was somewhere down around his toes. “Who did it?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  She barely whispered the words, but his brother must’ve had bionic hearing because a curse echoed from a good ten feet behind where Walker and Kelli were huddled together.

  Kelli cringed, and Walker glanced over his shoulder. “Shut up. In fact, I told you to go away.”

  For once Luke actually listened. The sound of his boots stomping faded until the door to the outside closed with a slam.

  Walker reached down and tipped Kelli’s chin upward. “Why can’t you tell me?”

  She licked her lips nervously, fidgeting even as she held his arms. “I need to take care of it myself.”

  Heaven save him from misguided, stubborn women. “I’m pretty sure you can take care of a lot of things, but Kelli, if it was one of the hands around here, that makes it our business and something we need to help you with.”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you trust me?” he demanded.

  It was a bald-faced question to ask, and it made her pause. Then her words swept out like a two-by-four and nearly knocked his feet out from under him. “Haven’t you ever had a secret you kept to yourself because it was something you needed to deal with?”

  Damn, he wanted to lie. “Doesn’t mean I was right in keeping the secret.”

  She shrugged.

  “Kelli, if someone hurt you, they might do it again. You need to trust us to help you and to let you take care of yourself. I know it’s a juggling act, but you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

  She let go of him as she stepped back, straightening as if she were an Amazon instead of a teeny bit of a thing. “I promise I have it under control. But no, it’s nobody who works here. And I’ll be careful. It won’t happen again.”

  Which was a relief and yet a worry at the same time, and it just meant they would all be keeping a closer eye on her for safety’s sake. He patted her on the shoulder and gave her a firm nod. “Okay, Kelli. If that’s your choice, I’ll accept it for now. But any time you can come and talk to me, or you can tell Ashton.”