by Jennie Marts
“Oh gosh. I wasn’t planning… I’m not sure,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“What? You wouldn’t be intruding. Besides, it looks like you worked hard selling hot dogs today. You earned it. Plus, I want you to come along. I mean, we want you to come. With us. All. All of us.”
“Oh geez,” Mason said under his breath. “Somebody’s gotta save this guy.” He took a step forward, breaking the connection with Tess as he swept an arm toward the door. “It sounds like there’s no arguing, Miss Chloe. You’re coming with us. Colt, why don’t you grab that cooler, and we’ll head out?”
* * *
The monster cheeseburgers at The Creed lived up to their names—thick, juicy patties of meat with slabs of cheddar cheese and strips of crispy bacon that melted in the mouth.
They had wrangled a big table in the corner, and Mason and Tess sat across from Colt and Chloe.
Mason was glad to see Tess enjoying her burger and making a dent in the huge pile of fries that covered one side of her plate. Having her appetite back was a good sign she was feeling better, and she wasn’t showing any symptoms that the migraine had come back.
Which was good news. She’d scared the hell out of him the night before.
He still wasn’t happy that she’d hadn’t been completely truthful with him, but the memory of their earlier quarrel faded with every brush of her arm against his, every smile that she flashed his way.
The truth was that he wanted to forgive her, wanted to let this transgression go. Because he really liked Tessa Kane. And he wanted to believe in her, wanted to believe she was the person he thought her to be.
Because the real truth—the secret truth hiding right below the surface—was that he more than liked Tess. He wasn’t sure when it had happened… Heck, he’d only known her a few days, but he’d always heard that when it happens, the person just knows. And he knew. Knew he was falling for this woman. With her long legs and her infectious laugh, with the clever way she teased him and the tender way she touched him—not just his body, but his heart.
She was a good person, a person who would pitch in to help run a snack bar; who saved ugly, scruffy stray mutts; and who talked about her grandma as if she was her best friend.
Tess had a good heart.
Mason knew they were still getting to know each other, but in the time they’d been together, whether they were fixing fence in the middle of a thunderstorm or exploring each other’s bodies in the shadows of his shower, he felt that she’d shown him her real self.
And Lord help him, he’d shown her his. For the first time in a long time, he’d let down his guard, let himself feel and trust in the company of a woman.
Tess had no ties to his family, no connections to his famous brother. Despite what had happened the night before, he felt that this woman liked him just for him. That she actually thought of him first. And that was a great feeling. A feeling he didn’t want to end.
She was just what he needed. Just the kind of woman he wanted. She’d come in as an outsider and, so far, hadn’t fallen victim to the hero worship that seemed to overtake women when they were in the presence of Rockford James. And that’s just how Mason wanted to keep it.
Tess nudged him, bringing him out his musing as she leaned sideways to whisper in his ear.
All those sappy hearts-and-flowers thoughts of love must have jinxed him, because the words she whispered into his ear had his heart dropping to his feet and his blood rushing to his head.
“Look at your brother,” she’d whispered. “He is so cute. I think my heart’s going to melt.”
Chapter 16
Mason whipped his head toward her, expecting to see the familiar look of adoration in her eyes as she stared at his older brother.
But she wasn’t looking at Rock.
Mason’s shoulders relaxed as he realized she was looking at his younger brother. His lips curved into a grin as he watched his normally charismatic and outgoing baby brother stumble over his words and appear almost shy, and his heart felt like it might melt too.
Tess reached under the table and entwined her fingers with his, then laid her head on his shoulder as they watched the timid exchange of conversation between Colt and the third-grade teacher.
“That jersey looks good on you,” Colt told her, eliciting a bashful smile.
Chloe reached for the hem of the shirt. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot about this. I should give it back to you. Or I can wash it first and then give it back.”
Colt chuckled. “No, it’s yours. I want you to keep it.”
“Okay.” Her hands were still in her lap, and she twisted the hem of the jersey nervously between her fingers.
Mason leaned down, the scent of Tess’s hair filling his senses. He wanted to nuzzle his cheek into the silky brown strands, but instead he whispered, “You want to get out of here?”
His lips had touched her ear, and he liked the way her shoulders had scrunched as if a shiver had run down her back.
She smiled up at him. “Sure.”
“I need to get back and get a few chores done, but then…” He’d started to say I’m all yours, but couldn’t quite get those words out. Even though he knew he was.
Somewhere in the last few days, he had become all hers. And no matter what happened next, whether she stayed in his life to see where this led, or if she went back home after the wedding, Tessa Kane had ruined him for any other woman.
“…we can hang out,” he finished, then tapped the table to get his brother’s attention. “Hey, Colt.”
The other man’s head popped up as if he’d been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, and Mason held back a smile, clearing his throat instead. “We’re gonna head back to the ranch. I’ll get the cattle fed in the main corral, but can you run a couple of bales of hay out to the south pasture when you get home?”
“Yeah. Sure. No problem.”
“Thanks.” He pushed his chair back and directed his comments to the rest of the table. “We’re taking off. See you all later.”
Tess leaned into him, her voice low. “But we haven’t got the check yet,” she said, reaching for her purse. “I earned some tips at the snack bar this afternoon, and I can pay for my own meal.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me.”
“But…”
“Seriously, save your money.” He wrapped an arm around her neck and spoke into her ear, partly because he wanted to keep his voice low and partly because he just liked having his mouth that close to her neck. “I always pay when I take my girl out for a meal.”
He was testing the words a little, seeing how it felt to have them roll off his tongue in a casual sentence. He liked it.
And from the smile he caught forming on her lips, Tess liked it too.
* * *
Tess followed Mason around as he ran through his afternoon chores.
She liked watching him—liked the way the muscles worked across his back as he tossed sections of hay over the fence, liked the way his biceps flexed as he shook grain into the troughs, and especially liked the way his butt looked as he swaggered into the corral.
Besides how great his butt looked—and he truly had an amazing butt—she also liked listening to him talk to the farm animals. He had an easy way of speaking to the cows and horses as he walked among them, and he chatted amicably with all the ranch dogs as if they could actually understand him and respond back.
It was fun to see how little Dewey had inserted himself into ranch life, running around with Theo and Watson, and Tess liked the way Mason had adopted him too and treated the little dog as if he were one of his own.
“That’s the last of it,” Mason said, as he stepped out of the barn. He brushed the dust from his pants and tilted his head at her. “You want to go for a ride?”
“Sure.” She
took a few steps toward the truck.
But he touched her arm. “Not in the truck. On the horse.”
“Oh yeah. Okay,” she stammered.
He narrowed his eyes. “You ever been on a horse before?”
“Once. When I was about ten, and I spent a long weekend at a summer church camp.”
“Did you like it?”
“I’m not sure. I fell off before we made it out of the corral, and I never tried again.”
“Well, you know what they say about falling off a horse?”
“Yeah. I do. And it sounds like I’m about to get back on one.”
He reached up and skimmed the back of his fingers against her cheek. A spark of heat flickered down her spine. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall this time. I’ll hold on to you.”
The spark of heat turned into a full-blown flame, and she was tempted to fan herself.
“I just got an idea,” he said.
She’d been getting plenty of ideas.
He held up his hand. “Wait right here.”
Tess stood where she was, unable to do anything but obey his commands, her skin still warm from where his fingers had grazed her. She watched him hurry across the driveway and bound up the porch steps and into the main house.
He came out a few minutes later, a leather saddlebag slung over his shoulder and a shit-eatin’ grin on his face.
What was he up to now? She didn’t know. And she didn’t care.
But she couldn’t wait to find out.
He led her into the barn and over to a stall where a gorgeous brown horse stood lazily munching some hay. She lifted her head and let out a soft whinny as Mason approached the stall.
“Hey, Gypsy,” Mason said, setting the saddlebag on the ground and holding his hand out to stroke the horse’s neck. She nuzzled her nose against his chest, drawing a soft chuckle from him. “She thinks I have a sugar cube for her.”
A sugar cube? Tess hadn’t seen a sugar cube since she was a kid.
Everything here was so different from what she was used to. The pace of life seemed slower, the sense of community seemed stronger, and everything just seemed simpler. She liked it.
“Do you?” she asked. “Have a sugar cube?”
He offered her a flirty grin, then drew a Ziploc bag full of small white cubes from his front shirt pocket. “Darlin’, I’ve always got a little sugar for my favorite ladies.”
She laughed out loud, a full hearty laugh. “Oh my gosh. That might just rank in the top-ten cheesiest lines I’ve ever heard. Does that ever work?”
He laughed along with her. “I don’t know. It’s the first time I ever tried it. Did it work for you?”
“I don’t know.” She lowered her voice, affecting a sultry tone. “You haven’t given me the sugar yet.”
He opened the bag and hooked a cube out with his finger, then slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Open your mouth.”
She did as he said, sucking in a slight gasp at the sudden nearness of him.
“Lick your lips.”
How could such simple directions sound so indecently sexy?
She swallowed, trying to keep her lips from trembling as she ran her tongue across them.
He watched the motion of her tongue, his eyes going dark and greedy. Then he lifted his hand, and holding the sugar cube between his fingers, he ran it over her bottom lip, leaving a sweet trail of sugary granules. Dipping his head, he kissed her mouth, a light kiss, just enough to dust his lips with the sugar as well.
She let out another soft gasp as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, licking at the sugar.
Pulling back, he again slid the cube along her mouth. This time, more sugar stuck to her moist lips. Then he slid the cube between her lips.
“Hold it on your tongue,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Let it dissolve before you swallow.”
She knew he was talking about the sugar—of course he was talking about the sugar—but the way he said it was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.
Holding the square cube on her tongue, she let the sweet sugar dissolve, just as he told her to do, but before she could swallow, he captured her mouth in another kiss. This time, it wasn’t a slow, soft brush of his lips. This time it was full and deep, mouths open, and the sugar, grainy and sweet, swirled and graded between their tongues.
He kissed her a long time, longer than the sugar lasted, and when he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and she felt like she had been thoroughly kissed.
She let out a deep breath. “Wow. I’m going to go ahead and give you that one. We’re going to call the ‘I’ve always got a little sugar’ line a definite win.”
He chuckled as the horse nudged his arm. “I think my other girl is jealous.”
My other girl? That was the second time tonight he’d made that reference. Did he consider her his girl? Did she want to be considered his girl?
If he kissed her like that again, she would consider being just about anything of his.
He fed the horse a sugar cube and gave her a quick nuzzle on the neck. He held out another cube, and Tess’s pulse raced at what he had in mind for this one. “Why don’t you give her one too?” he suggested, nodding at the horse.
“Oh, okay.” Not exactly what she had in mind, but she was up for it.
“Hold your hand out flat, and let her take it off your palm.”
She did as he told her, trying to hold her hand steady as the horse jutted her head forward. Tess let out a small nervous laugh as the horse’s velvety muzzle nibbled the sugar almost daintily from her palm.
Mason patted the horse’s neck. “She’s a sweetheart. I’ve had her for close to ten years, and she’s the best horse I’ve ever had.” He pointed to the stall gate. “You can stand there while I get her saddled up.”
Tess took a few steps back and leaned on the gate as she watched Mason saddle the horse. His movements were confident and steady, and she liked the way he talked easily to the horse the whole time, telling her about his day and the alumni game.
She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when he told the horse he’d scored the winning goal. Her eyes widened as the horse stamped her foot and gave her head a nod, as if she understood and was offering him congratulations.
He was right. She was a great horse.
Finally, he slipped the saddlebag over the saddle horn, then led the horse from the stall. He folded an extra blanket and secured it behind the saddle and across the horse’s rump.
“It would be better if you were wearing jeans, but this will at least be softer on your legs and give you a little more cushion,” he said, climbing into the saddle. He reached a hand down for her. “You ready?”
“No.” She wiped her suddenly sweaty hands on her shorts. “Are you sure we can both ride her?”
“Oh yeah. She’s a workhorse. Don’t worry. She’s strong.” He patted the horse’s neck, then pulled his foot from the stirrup. “Lift up your foot and put it in the stirrup, then grab my hand, and I’ll pull you up.”
She stared at his hand. Why did this have to involve him lifting her up again?
Although Mason had proved his muscles weren’t all for show. The last few days, he’d carried her on his back and cradled her against his chest. He could probably pull her up on this damn horse.
Lifting her leg, she awkwardly stuffed her sneakered foot into the stirrup then grabbed his hand and heaved. Pushing off with her other foot, she half climbed, half fumbled her way up as he pulled her by the arm, and she swung her leg over the horse’s backside.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
Not for you.
She tried to slow her breathing and pretend she hadn’t just worked muscles that hadn’t been used in ages. Blowing her bangs from her sweaty forehead, she wiggled around, situating her legs
as she settled in behind the saddle.
“You good?”
She pulled at her jersey and the hem of her shorts, trying to adjust her clothes back into place without falling off the back of the horse. Letting out a breath, she pushed back her shoulders and gathered her courage. “Yeah.”
“Hold on.”
She wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her chest to his back as the horse trotted toward the mountain range behind the ranch.
They rode for close to an hour, the horse plodding up the side of the hill and along the dirt trails. The horse was obviously used to this ride, and Mason assured Tess that Gypsy knew what she was doing and didn’t want to fall off the side of the mountain any more than they did.
Once Tess settled down, she relaxed and enjoyed the ride. She and Mason chatted easily, mostly with him telling her stories about the ranch, but they also rode in companionable silence at times and just enjoyed the view.
“Here it is,” Mason said, as the horse trotted to the top of a ridge. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Tess caught her breath as she took in the beautiful landscape.
In the small valley below them, a crystal-blue lake shimmered in the late-afternoon sun. One side of the valley was a rugged cliff, and a series of thin waterfalls fell down its face, splashing into the far edge of the lake.
It looked like a painting. Or like something out of a movie. Tess considered pinching herself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.
But the ache in her legs from an hour on the back of a horse told her this was indeed real.
The horse descended into the valley, confidently plodding its way down the path.
They stopped in a clearing at the water’s edge, and Mason helped her climb down. Her legs felt like jelly, and she reached for his arm as he dismounted next to her.
“It takes a minute to get your legs back,” he told her. “It helps to walk around a little.”
She took a few tentative steps toward the water’s edge as Mason let the horse get a drink, then led it to a giant cottonwood and wrapped its reins around a low branch. Tess grinned as she saw him sneak it another sugar cube.
