Cowboy Firefighter Heat

by Kim Redford

  “Do you think the cabins are safe now?”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I figure whoever did what they did got what they wanted tonight and left.”

  “I suppose we need more security,” she said.

  “We’ve resisted putting up security cameras in the Park to protect the privacy of guests, but this may be the end of that.”

  “You’re probably right, but let’s wait on it. I hate giving up the privacy if it isn’t completely necessary.”

  “At least let’s install cameras in the Hall’s parking lot.”

  “Okay. That suits me.” She sipped her wine thoughtfully. “I just want things to get back to normal so we can make music and plan Wild West Days in peace.”

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  “Think it’ll happen?”

  “I think we need to make it happen.”

  “Yeah.”

  “If we don’t control our lives, somebody else will try to fill the void. And they just might accomplish it.” He sincerely meant every one of those words, because he’d seen it happen with excellent musicians who’d lost their way when somebody took control of their talent. He had no intention of letting that happen to Fern or himself.

  She set down her wine and turned to face him. “You think he’s out there, waiting and watching. Don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but…”

  “That’s what you believe.”

  “It’s a distinct possibility.” Craig turned his glass around in his hands, gazing at it thoughtfully. “Nothing else makes much sense.”

  “If so, I brought it down on us.”

  “No. Never think that. It’s all on him…nothing on you.”

  “But still—”

  “No. Besides, he can’t win. He may think he can, but he can’t. Not in Wildcat Bluff County. He’s out of his league here.”

  “If I stay, it’ll be trouble.”

  “No. If he tries to cause trouble for you, he’ll wish he never set foot in this county.”

  “I could still go. There’s time.”

  “We already settled that idea. You’re going nowhere unless it’s with me.” He watched as she eyed the front door. “It’s beginning to look like I may need to make a run out to the ranch and pick up a rope.”

  She glanced back at him, chuckling. “Not tonight you won’t. I have other plans for you.”

  He grinned as he set down his glass. “And what plans are those?”

  “Let’s start with your T-shirt.”

  “My tee?” He felt completely confused. He’d been thinking about the bed while she was thinking about clothes. Made no sense, but he probably wasn’t hitting on all cylinders at the moment anyway.

  “Yeah.” She grinned, appearing predatory as she looked him up and down. “Why don’t you stand and take it off for me?”

  Now it was his turn to grin, feeling decidedly predatory himself. “You want me to strip for you?”

  “If it were winter and you were cold and wearing lots of layers—maybe four or five—it’d be more interesting, but since it’s summer and you’re not wearing much, I’m willing to go with what I’ve got.”

  “Thanks, I think,” he said, laughing as he stood up. If she wanted to play games, he was more than willing to play with her. It’d been way too long since he’d had fun, particularly in a bed…and even more particularly, with Fern.

  She sat up straight and leaned back against the sofa. “Strip for me, cowboy. I want to see that six-pack on display.”

  He laughed even harder. “You are in a mood, aren’t you?”

  “Let’s just say I’m feeling a little bit ornery after a real rough evening.”

  “In that case, I guess you deserve whatever you want.”

  “No guesses about it.” She put a fingertip to her lips, parted them, and stroked the nail with the tip of her tongue.

  He felt heat race through him like he was standing next to a blazing inferno. “You know you’re playing with fire, don’t you?”

  “Really? It’s hard to tell with you wearing so many clothes.”

  At those words, he got even hotter…and harder.

  “You can strip slow or fast. I’m not particular about the pace, but I’m getting a wee bit impatient for you to start.”

  “Are you?” He tried to keep the grin off his face. He tried to look serious. He even tried to look sexy. All for her. But she was right about the impatience. He wanted them in bed. And he wanted it now. Yet he was determined to give her every little thing she wanted, even if it was a clumsy strip on his part.

  “Yeah.” She looked him up and down again, as if reevaluating all his assets.

  “Still like what you see?”

  “Impossible to say, seeing as how slow you are off the mark.”

  He chuckled, unable to stay serious in the face of her big tease. “Okay. I’ll give you what you want if you’ll give me what I want later.”

  She lost her serious face as she gave in to a grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got first, cowboy firefighter.”

  “You’re not willing to commit to a pig in a poke?”

  “If what you’ve got is what I think you’ve got, I’m more than ready for a ride.”

  That was it. He couldn’t take any more. He grasped the bottom of his T-shirt, jerked it up over his head, and tossed it to the floor. He put his hands on his narrow hips, where his sweatpants hung low. He stood there, letting her look at what he’d spent a lifetime building as he roped cattle and rode horses. Yeah, he had plenty of muscle, but it was because he needed it to handle a ranch. With her looking at him like he was all the eye candy she’d ever want or need, he was glad for those hard workdays because he wanted her to have exactly what set her heart ablaze. And at the moment, his body was it…and he’d gladly let her have her way with it.

  She stood up, walked over, and placed the palms of her hands on his chest, spreading her fingers apart as she lightly massaged, then moved lower until she reached his navel and tucked a fingertip into the indentation.

  He inhaled on a groan, wanting to crush her to him but staying still so she was in control. When she stroked lower to cup him through the fabric of his pants, he broke out in a sweat from the heat she was generating in him.

  “Do you need help with the strip?” She tucked her thumbs under the waistband of his pants.

  “At this point, I’ll take any help you’re willing to give me.” He heard his voice go low with a gravel edge that would work well with the song that was growing by leaps and bounds in his head.

  “I’m not sure that’d be fair.” She stepped back to arm’s length, letting her hands linger on him before dropping them to her sides. “It’s your strip.”

  “Maybe I’m too easy.”

  “Easy is good.” She gave him a mischievous look with her luminous green eyes. “I like easy a lot.”

  “Me, too.” He decided two could play her game—and should if they stood any chance of prolonging it.

  “More, please.”

  He kicked off his shoes. “There you go.”

  “Not fair, although you do have sexy toes.”

  He chuckled at those words. “Thanks. I think.”

  “Pants?”

  He put his hands on his hips and looked her over, lingering here and there to stoke her interest. “What’ve you got under your T-shirt?”

  She grinned, glancing downward, then back at him. “What do you think?”

  “Something interesting, I’d bet.”

  “Could be.”

  “How about stripping off your T-shirt and letting me see?”

  “Think you’re up to it?”

  “I’m definitely up.”

  “You’re so bad.” She laughed, even as she shared a hot look with him.

  “Only as bad
as you want.”

  “Do you think I don’t need this tee anymore?”

  “Far as I’m concerned, you never need it in this cabin.”

  “In that case, maybe it is a little warm in here.”

  “Hot, more like it.”

  She grasped the bottom edge of her tee and slowly, ever so slowly, raised it to reveal the low-riding, frayed-edge cutoffs that showcased the indentation of her bellybutton. She kept raising the T-shirt to show more and more of her toned stomach until the fabric bunched under her breasts.

  He swallowed hard, not sure how much more he could take of her too-slow strip for him. And then she upped the ante by pulling her T-shirt completely off and tossing it on top of his tee. She wore a white bra that revealed rosy tips under the delicate lace. He took a deep breath as he marveled at her beauty and what it did to him.

  “Is this what you wanted to see?”

  “You’re on your way to getting there.”

  “Slow or fast?”

  He just smiled as he tucked his fingers under her bra straps and slowly pulled them down her arms until her breasts were completely exposed to him. He cupped the soft, round mounds and felt something in him give—he’d been holding back, not sure if he should surrender to the force that connected them until this very moment—and he knew there was no turning back.

  She reached up, twined her hands around his neck, and tugged his face toward her. He slid his hands around her back and undid her bra even as he pressed his lips to her mouth. She was soft and warm and utterly captivating as their kiss grew hotter and more urgent until she was tugging at his hair, pressing her breasts to his chest, urging him onward like she had in the old days. Old days. What if he… No, he wouldn’t go there, wouldn’t even think it, or he might back out now for fear of losing her all over again. They could do this. They could move out of the past into the present.

  She lifted her head, cupped his face with both hands, and gave him a look of deepest love. “Let’s go to bed. I can’t wait any longer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not sure about anything except I won’t let fear keep me from loving you.” She stepped back, letting her bra fall to the floor, and held out a hand to him.

  When he clasped her fingers, he felt her tremble but not from cold. He led her into the bedroom, where light from a lamp on the nightstand lent a soft yellow glow to the area. He closed and locked the door behind them to make sure they weren’t disturbed in any way.

  She shucked off her cutoffs and settled into the center of the bed, beckoning him with a slow, almost shy smile.

  He sat down on the bed and pulled off his sweatpants before he opened the drawer in the nightstand, took out condom packets, and set them on top. He glanced over his shoulder, where she watched him with a question in her eyes.

  “Just so you know, these have been here waiting for your return.”

  “No other women?”

  “Never. You’re all I could ever want.” He hesitated, but he had to clear the air between them. “Men?”

  “None. You were all I could think about while I was gone.”

  “Good.” He felt a vast sense of relief, knowing there had been plenty of guys bird-dogging her. She’d had her chances, but she’d turned them down—just like he’d rejected offers in the Hall.

  He slid toward her, pulling the sheet over them for a touch of privacy. And then nothing else mattered as she tugged him to her and he buried his face between her breasts just as he spread her legs and nestled between them. Finally, he’d come home to where he’d always longed to be.

  “Don’t hold back,” she whispered, stroking long fingers through his hair, down to his shoulders, to tightly clutch him.

  With that release, he kissed her breasts, using his tongue, his lips, his breath till she writhed up against him, her heat enveloping him as she raised her legs and he placed them over his shoulders.

  “Too quick?” He didn’t think he could hold back, but still he didn’t want to rush her.

  “Now. I can’t wait.”

  He pushed into her, as gentle as possible because she was hot, tight, wet, and it’d been so long for her, as well as for him. But desire quickly overtook them until he was loving her as he’d wanted to do every single moment of every single day since she’d left him, and she was responding as if her hunger for him grew greater with every thrust. He was taking them higher and higher until they took flight to the highest peak of passion, and their world swirled into a red-hot blaze that consumed the past and ignited the future of endless love together.

  Chapter 15

  Fern had one thing on her mind over the next several days—at least when she wasn’t working in Wildcat Hall or making plans for Wild West Days—Craig Thorne. Not only was he physically with her most of her days and nights, but he was in her thoughts, her emotions, her spirit as well. And then there was the bed. Every time they came together, the experience grew more intense, heightening their pleasure in each other.

  “You’re miles away,” Craig said. “What are you thinking about?”

  She glanced at her watch, noticing it was about noon. They’d been working quite a while and making good progress. She tapped her fingertip against the timeline printout on a table near the Hall’s front bar and then gave him a mischievous smile. “You, of course.”

  He chuckled, giving her a hot look. “Want to take that thought back to the cabin?”

  “Yeah…but maybe we’d better be responsible for a little bit longer.”

  He nodded, appearing reluctant, then glanced down at the printout. “How many cancellations do we have now?”

  “Two bands. One vendor,” she said. “At this late date, I wonder why.”

  “I’d guess scheduling conflicts for the bands.”

  “Maybe they got a better offer at a bigger venue.” She shifted in her chair, feeling the pressure of making Wild West Days a winner.

  “Could be.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about inviting those Sure-Shot musicians that put together a band over the summer?”

  “Aren’t they teenagers?” she asked.

  “Right. High school seniors.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. They’re from your neck of the woods. Have you heard them play?”

  “Yes. They’re pretty good. And everybody needs a place to start,” he said.

  “True enough.”

  “Another thing. They’ll bring in parents, grandparents, cousins, neighbors. They’ll all want to see their hometown band perform here.”

  “Like folks at ball games.”

  “Right.”

  “I like the idea,” she said.

  “They’ve got a good fiddler. And they’re putting their own spin on classic western swing from greats like Bob Wills, Hank Thompson, Spade Cooley, and others. They’re even going back to old-timey songs with lyrics like ‘she’ll be coming ’round the mountain when she comes’ as a way of connecting to their heritage.” He hummed a few bars of the song as he tapped his toe.

  “Now that’s interesting. Plus, those are simpler songs and easier for audiences to join in a singalong.”

  “They’re a smart group, I think.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Anyway, you know as well as I do you’re going to give them a chance.”

  “True. Bless their hearts, they’re starting down a long road if they get where they’re planning to go.”

  He squeezed her hand, lingering a moment. “Remember, that’s part of what you want to do at the Hall.”

  “Support musicians.”

  “And this is a good way to do it.”

  She glanced down at the list, then back up. “Thanks for the reminder. I’m getting so deep into our event that I’m not seeing the forest for the trees.”

 
“Happens to the best of us.”

  “I just had an idea. Do you think we could make room for a special stage for local up-and-coming musicians?”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “It’s kind of a late start, but with cutbacks in our local school for the arts, this could showcase talent that needs to be nurtured by our country community.” She highlighted a section of the printout. “Could we make it work?”

  “Great idea. I don’t care what it takes, we should make it work.” He glanced around the room, as if contemplating expansion. “Wild West Days already supports artisans with their handcrafted wares, so why not enlarge support for all our musicians, not just the youngsters?”

  “Is there enough local talent?”

  “Maybe not bands, but what about the individuals who sing in churches, at potluck dinner benefits, at sports games, or—”

  She leaned toward him, feeling excitement well up in her. “Yes, this is exactly what I’d hoped to accomplish when I acquired the Hall, but I was thinking too small, wasn’t I?”

  “I doubt you ever think too small, but this definitely enlarges the scope of what you envisioned from the start.”

  “Almost everyone in the county creates something, whether it’s cedar furniture, oil paintings, stainless steel knives, or music, while they’re also ranchers or tradespeople or builders or firefighters.”

  “We do tend to be creative around here.”

  “And we need people and events to nurture it.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” he said.

  “Okay. If this is what we plan to do, how do we go about setting it in motion?”

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  She smiled, knowing just where he was going. “Morning Glory and Hedy.”

  “Let’s go to Bert and Bert Two for even more help.”

  “That’s right. I heard Bert Two won the Fernando sighting benefit last Christmas and donated his winnings to our high school, to help fund the arts shortfall.”

  “Right. They’d get the word out.”

  “We’d need to organize it,” she said thoughtfully. “If we made this a special stage or spotlight on locals throughout the weekend, Ivy could add it to our Wildcat Bluff website with a form to fill out. That’d save time.”