Down Home Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  Cain snorted. “I suppose people get divorced and sue each other here just like they do everywhere else.”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  Alex let out a long, slow breath. “I guess if I go take my dead friend’s land he’s really dead. Unless, of course, he decides to haunt me out in the cornfields.”

  “Entirely possible.”

  “You seem too pragmatic to believe in ghosts,” Alex said.

  “I wish. But then, some of the worst ghosts I’ve had to deal with have been the ghosts of the living.” He thought of Kathleen again. Of the damage that had been done to both Violet and himself because of her. And how now that she was gone, there wasn’t any less friction between them; now that she was out of his life she wasn’t any less his problem. Except now, he was utterly powerless to do anything to fix it. She wasn’t even here to yell at.

  “Are you scrambling eggs for me?”

  “I am making a hangover cure for my sixteen-year-old.”

  “Wow. Put that one in the baby book.”

  That actually made Cain laugh. “I’m tempted to. And then, when she has kids and they become horrible teenagers, I’m going to show it to them. So that they know what she did, and then they might cause her even a fraction of the trouble that she’s causing me.”

  Alex smirked. “I hate to break it to you, but one drunken make-out session is not even scratching the surface of the kind of trouble Liam and I used to get into.”

  “I believe it. But don’t you give her any ideas.”

  “Hell no. But it’s the circle of life. When you’re a teenager, it seems like a great idea, and when you’re an adult thinking about yourself, it’s a great story. But when you are the adult dealing with a teenager... You just think it’s all dangerous and a bad idea.”

  “What’s that about?”

  “Maturity. I think. I wouldn’t know.” He raised his hand and mock saluted. “Anyway. I have to go see a man about a horse. Or, several horses, as the case may be.”

  Alex turned and walked out of the kitchen. Cain turned his focus back to the food he was making. But now, his mind was fixed firmly on ghosts. The ghosts that lingered in every corner. Ghosts that he and Violet had apparently brought with them from Texas, even though he had been so bound and determined to leave them behind.

  When he went back upstairs to give Violet her breakfast, she was sitting up, hunched over a pillow like a cave creature. She took the plate wordlessly, not meeting his eyes. Then Cain went back downstairs, heading outside and seeking out any hard labor he could find. He had a lot of anger and a lot of sexual frustration to work off, and he wasn’t sure there was enough acreage on the Laughing Irish Ranch to even put a dent in either.

  All the while he was working he kept flashing back to that kiss in the pantry at Pie in the Sky. And after a while, he quit pushing it aside. After a while, he embraced the memory. He let it fill his brain, fill his body. And then it wasn’t anger he was trying to burn through, oh no.

  His blood was running hot and fast as he went over to the pile of logs that had yet to be split into kindling. He picked one up, propping it up and setting it on its end. Then he picked up an ax. He brought it down hard on the wood, but the motion did nothing to ease the tension inside of him.

  He picked up another full log and repeated the motion. Establishing a steady rhythm of ax hitting wood. There was something about it that reminded him of sex. Or maybe it was just that everything reminded him of sex now. That hard, steady pounding...

  He gritted his teeth, and he imagined grabbing hold of pale, shapely hips as he pounded into her. He was certain of precious few things these days. Almost nothing. But he knew he wanted Alison. He knew it was a bad idea. Knew that the fact she was tangled up in his shitty personal life was an issue.

  But despite the complications, there was one thought shining bright and clear, brighter than the last rays of the sun as they disappeared behind the mountain, signaling the end of a truly long and horrendous day.

  He was sick of going to bed alone. He was sick of wanting and not having. He was sick of what he had become. Abandoned husband. Failing father. Rancher who worked his knuckles bloody every day, then woke up at the ass crack of dawn to do it again.

  For just a while, he wanted to be somewhere different. With someone who smiled at him. Who looked at him like she didn’t want him gone every time he walked into the room.

  He wanted some oblivion for a few hours. And didn’t he deserve it? Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just wanted it, and that was okay.

  But he was at the end. Of his rope. Of whatever the hell. And he needed. He just needed. He hadn’t realized how much until Alison had stretched up on her toes and touched her lips to his. He had known that celibacy was getting old, but he had been able to endure it. She had opened the door. She had blown the lid off that semblance of control he had been living with for so long.

  And now, it wasn’t just a vague desire. Now, it was actual need.

  He swung the ax down, embedding it in the top of the next piece of wood. He was breathing hard, his blood pouring through him like fire.

  He had responsibilities. He should probably see to those.

  But he was already halfway to his truck. And he was deliberately forgetting about everything here on the ranch. Everything in the house. Everything in his life that he didn’t want to think about. The only thing he cared about right now was that thing that was blazing hot and bright inside of him. That desire, that need, that excitement, that had been absent for so long.

  He had spent a hell of a long time concerning himself with what other people wanted, what they needed. Well, now it was his turn. He was going to go get what he wanted. And what he wanted was Alison Davis.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALISON TURNED THE closed sign and closed the blinds on the storefront windows, then let out a long, slow sigh. It had been an extremely long day. Not because of anything that had happened at the bakery. Mostly because of the somewhat disastrous make-out session that had happened in her pantry.

  Reflexively, she touched her lips, grateful for the fact that she was currently alone.

  Really, the make-out session itself had not been disastrous at all. It had been... Well, it had been spectacular. If she had ever had a kiss that good, she couldn’t remember it. He was so... So hot, and hard and strong.

  All those brilliant, masculine things she had come to miss. And the way he had wrapped his fingers around her wrist, held on to her so tightly, not like she would break, but like he might if he had to let go.

  And he didn’t want more. He didn’t want any more than that one kiss.

  She frowned, lowering her hand down to her side, curling her fingers into a fist. She took a deep breath, walking across the bakery and flicking the main lights off. Only the little antique-style pendant lights were still on, glowing their particular golden shade, casting little pools onto the floor.

  She closed her eyes, massaging her temples. Well, she was fine. That was the bottom line. She had put herself out there. She had tried. And he had said no. She had gone to the verge of begging, and she had felt ridiculous in the end, had felt like hiding in the back and weeping for the rest of the day.

  But she was tougher than that. And she would not let a man make her cry that easily. No way. Absolutely not. Hurt feelings, a little bit of embarrassment... That wasn’t worth her tears. Any man would be lucky to have her proposition him, and just because Cain Donnelly couldn’t appreciate the good fortune of being offered her body, didn’t mean another man wouldn’t appreciate it. When she got around to wanting to go proposition the male populace in general, that was. Right now, she was still mostly Cain-oriented, and not so much sex-oriented. But that too would pass. If there was one thing she had learned in recent years it was that things passed, and life went on. She was about to walk to the littl
e doorway that led to the stairs to her apartment when she heard a knock behind her on the door. She jumped, turning to see a large, dark silhouette in the doorway.

  She might have been nervous if it wasn’t Copper Ridge. Or maybe she still would have been nervous if she hadn’t seen the cowboy hat. But because she could make out the shape of it clearly, she knew with absolute certainty who it was.

  Maybe it wasn’t even the cowboy hat. Maybe it was just the intense, visceral reaction that happened deep inside of her. Because nothing else felt like this. Nothing else felt like Cain.

  Heart hammering in her chest, she moved quickly across the dining area, turning the locks on the door and jerking it open. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. His green eyes were full of intensity and fire. And the kind of intent that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

  “Come in,” she said, stepping out of the way and allowing him enough space to come inside.

  He did, and she locked the door behind him, drawing the blinds down over the window. Again, not waiting for him to say anything. Because she knew. There was only one reason he was here, looking like that, at this hour. Anticipation fired through her. Anticipation, but no nerves at all. Which was not how she would have expected this to go.

  But she was certain. So certain. This feeling, this need that had gripped her from the moment she had met him owned her. Body and soul. She had realized earlier there was no point in fighting it, and she wasn’t going to.

  Then he reached out, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her up against his hard, muscular chest. Just like he had done at his house that night. He had been angry with her then too. He was angry with her now, it was clear. But he wanted her, right along with it.

  She marveled, just for a moment, that his anger didn’t frighten her. Only a couple of years ago it would have. But not now. Not him. Never him.

  He changed his hold, planting both hands on her hips, drawing her up against him and letting her feel every hot, hard inch of him growing between them. It had been a long time since she had felt that, and even longer since she had gloried in it. But she was glorying in it now. She was gloating. She was downright smug.

  “I was fine,” he growled. “I was doing the best I could handling everything in my life. And I didn’t need anything outside of that. Until I saw you in that bar. And you took everything and turned it inside out. You made me want. You made me need.” He released his hold on her, drawing his hand up and gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m pretty pissed about that.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” she said, the words coming out in a breathless rush. “Except I’m not mad.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “No.”

  He shifted, those green eyes all sharpened intensity, trained on her, piercing her right through. “How do you feel? Tell me.”

  “Scared,” she said, the truth slipping between her lips before she could stop herself. Oh, not scared of him, no. But of the thing between them. She’d wanted a man before. She’d burned before. But that had been a little flame in the hearth next to this. Something comforting to rest by during a long, emotional winter. This wasn’t that. This was something else entirely. Bigger, hotter. A forest fire, raging out of control and scorching everything in its path, could never be anything but scary.

  “That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement.” He didn’t ease up his hold, but still, she was afraid that he might.

  “Excited too,” she said quickly. “Definitely excited.”

  That word seemed wrong. It didn’t quite fit. But then, scared didn’t really fit either. This was something else. Something new. Something that had woven its way around every secret place inside of her, waking up need, desire that she had shut down so long ago. Like power being restored to a long-forgotten city.

  For the past four years she’d had goals. And she had met them. Fulfilled them. She had been proud of them. Of all her accomplishments. She had felt happiness in that time, of course she had. She had felt pride, and a sense of determination and purpose. All things that had been absent from her life for the entirety of her marriage.

  But this... She hadn’t had this. Maybe she never had.

  “You know what’s about to happen, don’t you?”

  She laughed, a full, throaty sound that seemed like it had come from a stranger. Some sensuous, confident woman that she was certain she was not. Except, maybe right now she was. Maybe with him, she could be.

  He didn’t know otherwise. She was the woman that had made him drive all the way down from his ranch, the woman that had made him want, when before he hadn’t. He had said so. That was all she was to him. Not a victim. Not the sad, grasping, insecure creature she sometimes saw herself as in those dark hours between midnight and sunrise when memories scuttled in like spiders from dark corners.

  “I know,” she said, feeling bold and reckless. More things she could hardly remember ever being. She lifted her hand, pressing it against his cheek, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she felt the heat of his skin and the roughness of his whiskers against her palm. “This isn’t going to end with a kiss.” A smile grabbed the corner of her mouth and tugged it upward. “Or maybe it will. But a lot is going to happen in between. Between this moment, and that last kiss.”

  “Hell yeah,” he said in a voice like gravel as he closed the distance between them, his mouth meeting hers.

  This time, there was no one around. This time, there was no one right outside the door to wonder what was taking so long, or what was happening. Though, she imagined that if anyone was standing out on the main street now, and they looked inside, squinted real hard, they might be able to make out her and Cain’s silhouettes in the dim light. She found she didn’t care about that either. Not about anything. Not anything but this kiss and what would happen next.

  His kiss was like oxygen. As if she had been drowning for years and this was her first sip of salvation.

  It woke her up.

  An insistent pulse beat at the apex of her thighs and she arched her hips, glorying in the feel of his arousal pressed against her. And while she didn’t want to get into any comparisons, this was definitely different than anything she’d experienced before. When she had been a teenager sex had always been wrapped in insecurity. In being afraid of rejection, afraid of doing the wrong thing. In her marriage, it had been a bargaining chip, a peace offering, a flag of surrender.

  But she didn’t care. Not now. Not with him.

  Cain wasn’t going to reject her. He wanted her. She could feel how much he wanted her. And truly, she didn’t give a damn about doing the wrong thing or the right thing as far as he was concerned. Because she wanted. And this was all about what she wanted. How long had it been since she had focused solely on that?

  For so long it had been a matter of survival. Of climbing out of the wreckage, putting one foot in front of the other as she walked away from that burning pile of refuse that had been her life. Just putting distance between the woman she had been and the woman she was now. But this was more than forward motion. It was better.

  And now that she had discovered it, she wanted it. Wanted it all, wanted it now.

  She pressed her hands against his chest, dragging them down slowly, glorying in the feel of his muscles, that hard chest and stomach. He was incredible, and so much more of a man than anyone else she had been with. So much more of a man than she had imagined she would want. But she did want him. And that realization nearly made her cry.

  Which was stupid. So stupid. But it was such a relief to know that even though Jared had left a lot of things broken inside of her, maybe less was permanently destroyed than she had originally thought.

  She wanted this man. This strong, uncompromising man. She didn’t fear him. She wanted him. That was good in a million indescribable ways.

  Ways that she would
never tell him, but that she held close to that bright, burning ember inside of her as she allowed it to stoke the flames even higher.

  And if it wasn’t that great realization making her burn even hotter, it was his hands. Large and warm and roaming over her curves, down her back, over her butt.

  “Do you know what my life has been?” he asked. “For four damn years, I’ve woken up in an empty bed, gotten up and started work. Then made sure that my daughter was taken care of before going right back to work. Sunup to sundown. That’s who I’ve been. That’s all I’ve been. But that’s not what I want tonight. Tonight... I’m going to be a selfish bastard. Tonight I want to just be a man. Not someone’s father. Not someone’s ex-husband.” He slid his thumb along the edge of her lips. “I want to bury myself so deep inside of you that I might get lost.”

  She felt like that should scare her, bother her. His stated intent of selfishness when she was the one who wanted to be selfish. Instead, she found it reassuring. They were both out for themselves. And they were both being honest about it.

  In a way, it took all the pressure right off her. He would grab hold of his pleasure, while she took care of her own. While they used each other for their own ends. So, she wouldn’t have to worry about what he was enjoying, what he wasn’t. That was his problem. And she had every confidence that he would see to it.

  “I’d like to get lost with you,” she whispered.

  By tacit agreement, they didn’t speak after that. And she was glad. Because she didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to know him any better. Didn’t want to be so unbearably conscious of the fact that this was the same Cain Donnelly she’d had coffee this morning with, to discuss the difficulties he was having with his daughter. The same Cain Donnelly whose daughter she would see early tomorrow when she came in for shift.

  No. She wanted the same thing he did. Wanted him to just be a man. Her lover. The fantasy she hadn’t even known was her fantasy until she’d seen him in Ace’s bar.

  And whatever he wanted her to be, she would be for him.