by Cat Miller
“Oh, my.” The words slipped out and Beau chuckled against her neck.
“All for you, Yankee.”
She was too absorbed in the way he was nibbling her earlobe to argue about being a yankee. There was nothing wrong with being a yankee in her opinion. It was just that she was a loyal Orioles fan. That nickname came too close to crossing the line of calling her a New York Yankees fan. Those were fighting words.
Kesslyn lost all thought of anything but Beau’s fingers when he hiked up her leg to his hip and tugged off one of her shoes. Before she could kick off the other he had her shorts around her ankles. His fingers pressed into her slick folds to stroke and tease at her opening and flick at her hard little nub of pleasure. She was primed and ready for him.
“Oh, fuck, Beau. I’m going to come,” she panted.
“No, ma’am. Not without me. No cheating.” He grinned, and her heart did a little flip.
They were in the middle of a heated moment, and he could still tease her. Kesslyn had the feeling he would tease whenever possible.
Beau’s hand left her to grab his suit jacket that was draped over the seat back. He leaned back, and she got a good look at the work of art she was stroking up and down with a firm grip.
Beau was a man on a mission to conquer. He dug a condom out of his wallet and ripped open the package with his teeth. He covered his cock and tugged Kesslyn to the very edge of the seat. He was so tall that her exposed pussy was at the perfect level for his penetration. He guided the head of that monster to her opening and Kesslyn held on tight.
“I can’t be gentle right now, Kesslyn. I need to fuck you deep and hard. Can you handle me baby?” He was there. Right there, and she needed him inside of her. She nodded but couldn’t speak through the knot of anticipation in her chest. Hard. Deep. Fast. Yes, that’s what she wanted.
Beau pressed forward, parting her folds. He stretched her tender flesh as he buried himself deep. She felt full and tense. He held still for only a moment.
“Relax for me. This is going to feel real nice, baby. I promise,” he told her just as he pulled back and returned with a firm push. The air left her lungs. He put a hand between her breasts, encouraging her to lay back on the seat. That changed his angle, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Yeah, that’s it. Just let me pleasure this hot little pussy. Fuck, you feel so good, Kesslyn.”
She had the passing thought that she liked it when he called her Kesslyn. Then there were no more thoughts. Only sensation. Beau rode her body hard. He did just as he promised. Fucking her deep and long. She came in just moments. The muscles of her core gripping and releasing fiercely. Beau moaned and panted as he fought his way through her first orgasm, not stopping his assault until she was thrashing in the throes of another climax. Then he really let loose. Beau pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her neck and groaning loudly as he came so hard his entire body shook with the force of it.
The warm night breeze ruffled her hair, bringing Kesslyn back to herself. She was hanging out of a truck with her shorts hanging from one ankle. Her shirt was gone. Her breasts were spilling out of the bra that had been pushed to the side. She was missing a shoe. And she was pretty sure she’d just seen the curtains of the nearest hotel window move. Someone had been watching them go at it like teenagers. She had to go. Now.
While Beau was still catching his breath, she pushed at his chest. He withdrew, being careful to take the condom with him. She fell back on the seat and found her shirt. She drew it over her head and pulled up her legs to get her shorts back in place.
Beau was stuffing himself back in his pants and zipping up when she jumped out of the truck on shaky legs. He gave her a sexy grin of male contentment.
Kesslyn didn’t want to be embarrassed by an encounter she’d wanted and enjoyed immensely, but she was. She wasn’t the kind of woman who picked up men in bars and let them fuck her senseless in a truck. She hadn’t even really been in the truck, either. Public sex. That was what she’d just done, and she couldn’t even blame the alcohol. She’d felt nearly sober when they left the bar. She was just very tired. Now she was downright exhausted. Beau picked up her missing shoe and handed it to her.
“Just let me lock up the truck.” He stepped around her to retrieve the keys from the ignition.
He wanted stay the night with her? Or was he just ready for another round? Judging by the still very noticeable bulge in his slacks, the latter was more likely. Kesslyn needed to get herself together. The past few weeks had been too much. The last couple of hours were like a crazy dream. This just wasn’t her. She couldn’t be this girl.
“Thank you for . . .” she waved her hand in the direction of the truck not able to say‘Thanks for the hard fuck. It was super. Hope I didn’t leave a wet spot on your seat,’ like her overtired mind suggested.“Uhm . . . Thank you for a lovely evening, Beau. I’m going to . . . go now.”
Way to let him down easy. She was so smooth. She did the walk of shame with only one shoe on up the steps that led to her room. Beau caught up with her and tugged her around to face him. Her cheeks were flaming. She was sure he could see it even in the darkness.
“Kesslyn, what we did here tonight,” he looked back toward his truck as if he could see what had just happened, and he smiled,“it was nothing to be ashamed of. It was hot. It was unexpected. But I don’t regret it. I hope you don’t either. That might break this poor cowboy’s heart, darlin’.” He stroked her cheek then kissed her deeply. She fell right back into his arms.“You don’t want to break my heart, do you, darlin’?”
She didn’t. She knew he was just teasing her again, but she felt less like a tramp when he was holding her like a gift he’d been given.
“Somehow I think you’ll survive without me.” She kissed him one last time.“Goodbye, Beau,” she said with a sad smile and turned away. She didn’t look back because she knew if she did she wouldn’t be going to bed alone. One hot look and she’d be a goner.
Bright, cheerful sunshine poured through the windows of the huge house as if it were the happiest day ever. It was not. That was the funny thing about days that changed your life forever. The rest of the world just kept moving while you stand there trying to find your footing.
Kesslyn stretched out on the huge oval braided rug before the fireplace. She almost wished there was a blaze going, but it was far too hot for that this time of year. She had a little picnic set out of a bottle of wine she’d found in a cupboard, an apple she'd sliced up, and some peanut butter on crackers she’d found in the pantry. The only thing in the fridge was a jar of pickled okra. No way was she even trying that. In the morning she’d have to get groceries after her meeting with Mr. Baird.
Staring at the wood plank ceiling, Kesslyn replayed the night before with Beau in her mind and felt herself getting warm. She wondered if she’d see Beau when she went to town. What would she do if she did? Oh, she knew what she’d do. It was disgraceful. It would be an effort not to throw herself at the man. It was more likely she’d never see him again. And that was too depressing to ponder.
Purposefully changing her mind to other topics, she tried to imagine her father growing up in this big old house. It was a beautiful home. She wondered if her dad had enjoyed the life of a farm boy. She tried to mentally take him out of the three piece suit of a lawyer and put him into the denim and western shirt of a cowboy. It was a nearly impossible task, but she thought her father, who had always been a very handsome man, had looked good on a horse.
Kesslyn dragged herself off the floor and picked up her plate and cup. She washed her dishes in the deep, white ceramic sink in the beautiful, modern country French kitchen. It was a gourmet kitchen. Her grandmother must have loved to cook. The kitchen was huge with a long, solid wood table with padded benches on either side. Kesslyn wondered if the cowboys used to eat there. There were so many things she just didn’t know.
In the morning, she would be visiting Mr. Baird in town. She hoped he would be able t
o clear up a few things. She wanted business on the ranch to go on as usual. Or as close to it as possible. She’d never be able to make a decision about the future of the ranch if she didn’t learn firsthand what life here was really like.
Kesslyn climbed the stairs to her temporary room. She would move into the master bedroom tomorrow. For the night, she’d settled into the room with the picture of her dad in a Walker Creek High football uniform. Lord, he’d been a handsome young man. It was no wonder her mother had fallen head over heels.
There were also awards for everything from pee-wee all-around cowboy when he was a little kid to roping and rodeo into his college years. Kesslyn was saddened by it. She’d had no idea her father was a cowboy. A real life horse racing, herd riding, rodeo winning cowboy. She could only imagine him in suits and polo shirts and khakis. He’d dressed down when they went horseback riding, but other than that, her father had been a very clean-cut businessman. This young man in chaps and a huge hat was a stranger.
“Oh, Daddy, what happened here that made you leave and stay gone? Why didn’t you ever talk to me about this part of your life?”
For that matter, why hadn’t she asked any questions? She knew her daddy was born a Texan. She knew that’s where he’d gotten his smooth, slow accent and manner of being. This was the place that had made him the man she’d loved and admired so very much.
Kesslyn crawled into her father’s bed and tried to get some sleep. She tried, but her mind played images of a big cowboy with blond hair and warm brown eyes the color of copper pennies over and over. It was going to be a long night.
THREE
Kesslyn sat at the end of the counter in Notcha Momma’s Diner and sipped at a cup of surprisingly delicious coffee. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything Mr. Baird had just laid at her feet. She’d gone to their meeting with no idea what to expect. She wanted to talk about her options for selling the land. That was until Mr. Baird explained how important the ranch was to the community. She hadn’t expected to learn that she now owned a huge ranch that employed fifty cowboys– half of which lived in bunk houses on the property and the other half in town with their various families– who were running over two thousand head of cattle, give or take depending on the time of year.
She also owned half of the land Walker Creek proper was built upon. Most of the businesses in town, as well as the town hall and the police station, and paid ground rent to the Walker estate. That was her. She shook her head and wondered if her dad knew how large the Walker legacy had grown.
Her grandfather had been more than just a cowboy. Russell Walker, Sr. had been a smart businessman. He’d been making lucrative investments since the day he took over Walker Ranch from his father when he was just thirty years old. It was all Kesslyn’s now.
This was on top of the healthy inheritance she’d received when her parents were taken from her. She’d never spent a penny of it. It was still collecting interest in a bank in Baltimore. She had no use for the money. She just wanted her parents back. It was silly, and she knew they wouldn’t be pleased, but Kesslyn just couldn’t bring herself to take what belonged to her parents. She was saving it for them. Like maybe they might come back and claim it if she waited long enough. A tear ran down her cheek, and Kesslyn swiped at it. She was sure it would never get easier, no matter how many people told her it would.
She had more money than she’d ever imagined and more property than she had a clue about how to maintain. It was a shock to be sure. Kesslyn was going to meet the ranch foreman that afternoon. She looked at her watch. He might already be waiting for her at the main house, as opposed to one of the cabins across the ranch¸ or the large Victorian home she owned in town, or the vacation home on the beach in Galveston. It was too much to take in. Thankfully, her grandfather’s trusted lawyer and accountants were taking care of everything until she was ready to dive into the financials.
Mr. Baird explained that Russell Walker’s annual contributions to Walker Creek kept the town going. The ranch employed many of the town’s men, from the cowboys to landscapers, a small cleaning crew, and two cooks plus several other employees. He bought and donated the police vehicles. He built the town library so folks would have a place to access the internet, books, and other resources. He gave money to the schools and was a huge sponsor of the Walker Creek High School athletic and music departments. The man had been the king of Walker Creek, and he took care of his people as such.
Mr. Baird had been making a point Kesslyn wasn’t likely to miss. He was discouraging her from selling the property and removing the support of the Walker family from the town. She got the message loud and clear. She’d keep her thoughts of selling to herself until she had a better grip on the situation. Mr. Baird was still in shock over the loss of her father. It had been over two years, and even Kesslyn still couldn’t absorb it. There was no sense in causing further upset until it was necessary.
Walker Creek was holding its collective breath waiting for Kesslyn’s father, the prodigal son, to return. They had faith that Russell, Jr. would continue the Walker legacy and care for the town as his father and grandfather had done before him. The news that Russell was gone and Kesslyn was there to inherit the keys to the city was spreading like wildfire through Walker Creek.
Kesslyn finished off her coffee. A waitress made her way down the line of patrons seated at the counter to fill their cups. She wished it was something a bit stronger than excellent diner coffee steaming in her cup. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the diner on her back. People at the other end of the counter leaned forward to get a look at her. Even the cook was peering at her through the window to the kitchen. They whispered to each other, speculating about the future of the ranch and the town. Someone in a nearby booth was on their phone talking in hushed tones about her being at the diner after leaving Mr. Baird’s office down the street. Kesslyn was the new resident Walker, queen of all she survived, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep the crown. This was an experience she wasn’t looking forward to repeating every day. Hopefully they’d get used to her sooner than later.
She lifted her eyes from her coffee cup to look around, and sure enough, everyone was still focused on her. It was too weird. Back home, she could go all day on the streets of Baltimore without anyone really noticing her, much less talking about her. She was just one more working professional in the daily downtown hustle and bustle of the streets. She was sure some people would think that was a sad way to live, but it was life in a big city. In this place, she was a stranger and everyone would notice her and contemplate her comings and goings.
“Can I get you some breakfast yet, honey?” the owner of Notcha Momma’s asked with a kind smile. Her name was Molly Brown, and she was surprisingly young to be running a busy restaurant. She introduced herself when Kesslyn sat down at the counter.
Molly was a chatty thing. She explained that she’d inherited the diner from her momma when she retired a few years back. So she understood what it was like to take over a family business. Obviously, Molly already knew exactly who Kesslyn was, no introduction needed. Molly’s momma told her to make the place her own. She wanted Molly to be happy in the family business. So she’d changed the name from The Honey Bee to Notcha Momma’s Diner and updated the menu. They had lots of traditional diner fare, but there were also vegetarian dishes and other dishes she hadn’t expected to find in a small town. It wasn’t your typical diner, and Kesslyn supposed that was why Molly had chosen the name. She’d also taken out a loan to update the décor. She had indeed made it her own.
“I think that’s what you need to do too, Ms. Walker. You go on and make that ranch your home. You make that business into something that makes you happy,” Molly had doled out the sage advice as if it were a slice of pecan pie. It was good advice that Kesslyn was still digesting. She would need to make some changes in the house if it were to be her home. As far as the business went, well, she had a lot to learn. That would take time.
“No, than
k you, Molly. I think I’ll get going. I have a lot to do today.” She smiled back at the pretty blonde.
“I bet you do. Go on then. Coffee’s on the house. I hope to see you back soon.” Molly hurried away with her ponytail swinging to pick up an order in the kitchen window.
Kesslyn climbed behind the wheel of the pickup truck she’d borrowed from the garage behind the ranch house that morning and headed out of town. She couldn’t help thinking about Beau when she sat there in the driver seat. Beau’s truck had been just like this one, only a newer model. As much as she had on her mind, you’d think she wouldn’t have time to wonder where that sexy man was today. You’d think she wouldn’t be disappointed that she hadn’t seen him in town, but she did, and she was. She found that every moment not spent contemplating what to do about the ranch was spent remembering things he had done to her body. A flush crept up over her skin. She needed to put him out of her mind. She’d likely never see him again.
Kesslyn needed to focus on the task at hand, which was learning as much as she could about the ranch itself and what life in Walker Creek would be like for a city girl like her. To that end, she needed to gather her questions for the foreman. She could ride a horse fairly well, thanks to her father’s insistence that she learn. So she planned to ask the foreman to take her out for a ride. When Mr. Baird spoke of acreage it was all just numbers to her. She needed to see as much of it as she could to get a better idea.
When she pulled up to the house, there was a car parked in the circular drive, but nobody was waiting for her to arrive. Maybe the foreman had a key. That idea freaked her out a little, but she was sure the man had been close to her grandparents. If he lived and worked on the ranch, there could be any number of reasons for him to have a key. She was thinking like a city kid. When she’d arrived the day before, the key had been under the doormat. That would never happen where she came from. Never.
