Cowboy for Keeps

by Cathy McDavid

  “You’re ready.”

  “You’re not.”

  He brought his head to her breasts, filled his hands with the pliant mounds and teased the nipples with his teeth and tongue.

  She moaned, and her head collapsed onto the pillow.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “Yes. No. I’m tender.” Another low moan escaped her. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  He was happy to, until temptation won over. Starting in the sensitive valley between her breasts, he forged a path of damp kisses that ended at her rounded tummy.

  She jerked and tried to push him away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not...my belly isn’t flat anymore.”

  “Your belly is gorgeous.” He splayed his hand across it and let it remain until she relaxed. “Don’t think otherwise.”

  “I can’t help being self-conscious.”

  “There isn’t anything about you or your body that isn’t a complete and total turn-on for me.”

  His hand ventured to where her legs joined, and parted them. Carefully, then with increased vigor, he stroked her moist center, first with his fingers, then his mouth. He was more than content to satisfy her this way for as long as she wanted. Till she came apart.

  She writhed, trembled, and he sensed she was nearing her peak. Suddenly, she grabbed his arms and drew him up until they were once again face-to-face.

  “I want you inside me.”

  Who was he to disappoint her?

  Sheathing himself in the condom, he entered her slowly. She wrapped her legs around his middle.

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Very.” She arched into him, urging him on.

  “Look at me.” He thrust deeper, but still slowly.

  She did look, and when she saw him, really saw him, he increased his momentum. Her climax was swift and complete and stunning to watch. Only when she started to return to him did he let go. She was still trembling with aftershocks when he buried himself deep in her one last time, the force of his release leaving him weak.

  He fell on his side next to her, his heart beating like a giant fist pounding his chest.

  “Are you okay? No pain?”

  “I’m a whole lot more than okay.” She rolled toward him, snuggled into him and flung an arm over his middle. “I’m exactly where I should be.”

  “You are.” He wasn’t referring to her bed or in his embrace. He hoped she knew that. “I want to see you again.”

  “You will.”

  “I’m talking about a date. Movies, a concert. Not at the ranch, when you happen to be stopping by for work.”

  “If you insist.”

  He felt her smile against his neck. “Tomorrow?”

  “I’m having dinner at my parents’.”

  “I like your parents.”

  “Are you trying to wrangle an invitation to dinner?” She propped herself up on one elbow to stare pointedly at him.

  “Am I succeeding?”

  “I’m sure Mom will be delighted.”

  “It’ll give me an opportunity to thank your stepdad for his help.”

  “Luckily, you don’t need any more contacts.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, let her tongue trace the outline. “Since you’re going to be Sonoran Bottling’s newest systems analyst.”

  Conner didn’t correct her as he’d been doing. He was applying her advice and thinking positively. It had worked great the last hour.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  Her fingers were painting lazy patterns on his chest and her eyes, he noticed, had drifted closed.

  “No, content.”

  She sounded it.

  “It’s late. I don’t want to keep you up.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Are you tired?”

  “Not at all.” If anything, he was energized.

  “Good.” She pushed him onto his back and slid her body onto his so they were once again heart to heart.

  Conner approved of the change.

  Her hands, ever curious, went on a mission to completely familiarize themselves with him. Any residual shyness was completely gone. He was starting to anticipate where things were going to lead when an unexpected visitor plunked down onto the bed right beside them.

  Conner turned his head, only to encounter two golden eyes and an angry hiss. Charming, apparently upset that there was an intruder in his personal territory, was displaying his less than charming side.

  “Sorry.” Dallas tried to dislodge the cat and send him on his way.

  The little beast would have none of it, turning himself into a solid and unmovable object. Then, with another small thunk, Snow White appeared. She instantly started swatting Charming’s tail, which twitched angrily.

  Conner decided he liked the dozing Sleeping Beauty best of all of Dallas’s cats.

  “Honestly,” she complained, giving Charming another push. “I can’t figure out what’s gotten into him.”

  “It’s all right. They can have the bed.” Conner swung his legs onto the floor. Grabbing her hand, he hauled her to her feet. “We can go elsewhere.”

  “Like?” Her smile grew.

  “Wherever you want.”

  They ended up in the shower, where they played beneath the water’s spray. Afterward, wrapped in towels, their hair still wet, they padded to the living room. His target was the couch. Hers was the rug in front of the unlit fireplace. He let her choose.

  When he next came over, Conner thought, he’d bring wood and light a fire, then make love to her in the golden glow of the flames.

  Tomorrow, perhaps. After dinner with her parents.

  For the first time in a very long time, Conner’s future contained endless and exciting possibilities.

  And it was all because of Dallas.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dallas gripped the steering wheel of her Prius so tightly her fingers cramped. Would the darn stoplight ever change to green? When it finally did, she hit the gas, wishing for once she owned an eco-unfriendly fuel guzzler with decent get-up-and-go.

  In her favor, there were only stop signs between here and Powell Ranch. She wanted to arrive before the elderly gentleman in order to capture his expression on film when he saw the mare and colt for the first time.

  Hard to believe someone had finally stepped forward after nearly two weeks, claiming not only to have information on the mare but to be her owner. According to Conner, the man had pictures and registration papers to prove it. She’d be interested in seeing them.

  Along with everyone else, she’d become attached to the horses and had an emotional stake in their future. It was imperative they be returned to their rightful owner. The man’s expression when he saw the mare and colt would go a long way in convincing Dallas.

  She was also looking forward to seeing Conner. They’d found a chance to be together at least a few hours every day since the charity event last Saturday. Each moment had been a whirlwind of excitement. She didn’t know where things would ultimately lead, and tried not to dwell on it. Eventually, they’d have some decisions to make. Like when and what to tell Richard.

  If he chose to, he could make things difficult for her and Conner. He already suspected something. He’d called just this morning for no reason in particular, and then again a few hours later. When she questioned him, he said he was concerned. That there was a difference in her voice.

  A difference?

  If Richard had noticed one s
mall change in her, were others noticing, too?

  She and Conner probably wouldn’t be able to hide their relationship for much longer. That was fine with Dallas. When they were both ready, she was going to shout it to the world.

  For now, she chose to concentrate on his job. The interview at Sonoran on Tuesday had gone well. Very well. While Sunday hadn’t formally extended the offer—something about passing it by the board first—she’d inferred he had the job.

  He had to be going crazy waiting to hear. Dallas was on pins and needles, jumping every time he called or texted. Maybe he’d get word this afternoon, and she’d be lucky enough to be with him. Then they’d really celebrate.

  One less hurdle for them to overcome.

  She still couldn’t believe how accepting Conner was of the baby. Perhaps by the time she gave birth, they’d have such strong feelings for each other, be so secure in their relationship, that Richard’s presence in their lives wouldn’t make a difference.

  The white SUV Dallas had been following for over a mile turned in to the drive leading to Powell Ranch. She slowed, and when they reached the office, parked alongside it.

  Grabbing her camera bag, she bailed out of her car, and came to a stop. A young woman was assisting an elderly man from the SUV, situating his walker in front of him so that he could support himself as he stood. Dallas placed him in his late eighties, if not early nineties.

  This had to be the owner of the mare. Supposed owner, she reminded herself. The photos and registration papers would determine that for sure.

  She went up to them and smiled, something inside her softening. The pair didn’t strike her as horse thieves or media thrill seekers, and there had been a few of those since the story broke.

  “Hi, I’m Dallas. I work with the Powells. Are you by chance here about the mare and colt?”

  “We are,” the woman answered brightly, helping the man maneuver his walker over the uneven ground. “I’m Marjorie. This is my grandfather, Darius Edenvane.”

  “Welcome to Powell Ranch.” She fell into step with them. “If Gavin’s not in the office, you can wait there while I find him.”

  “I want to see my horse,” the man said, his gravelly voice firm.

  “Grandpa, shouldn’t we meet with Mr. Powell first?”

  He shook the walker, which had become stuck on a rock. “I can meet him in the barn just as easily.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marjorie said. “When Grandpa makes up his mind, there’s no changing it.”

  “No problem.” Dallas pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’ll have Gavin meet us at the mare’s stall.”

  “Thank you, young lady.” He gave his granddaughter a smug look. “See? She doesn’t think I’m being difficult.”

  Marjorie simply smiled.

  Dallas guessed the two had frequent arguments of a similar nature.

  As they walked, she spoke to Gavin, who informed her that he and Conner would be right there. Her heart gave a small start at the mention of Conner. It had been only this morning since she’d seen him, and yet she couldn’t wait.

  Gavin and Conner were standing at the mare’s stall when they arrived. Dallas made introductions, her gaze continually going to Conner. His smile lingered on her in return.

  The elderly man and his granddaughter were oblivious, their attention elsewhere.

  “Look, Grandpa. It’s her,” Marjorie said, her plain face made pretty by delight and amazement.

  “I have eyes in my head. I can see it’s her.” Despite his grumpy protest, he was visibly moved.

  The mare stuck her head over the stall door and sniffed at the man. First his sleeve, then his head. Snorting happily, she bumped him with her nose.

  “Chiquita,” he muttered affectionately, and stroked her face with his gnarled hand. “That’s a good girl.”

  “We found her. I can’t believe it.” His granddaughter wiped her damp eyes. “We looked for months. Hated giving up but we had no choice. We just kept hoping she’d come home.”

  “How long has that been, Mr. Edenvane?” Gavin asked.

  “Two years this January.”

  The timing coincided with what the vet had said about the length of time Chiquita had likely been roaming in the wild.

  Distracted by the scene unfolding in front of her, Dallas almost forgot her camera. She hastily removed it from the bag and shot picture after picture, the most charming of which was the mare resting her large head on the man’s shoulder. If he hadn’t been grasping the walker, the weight would have toppled him.

  Her own misty eyes made seeing through the viewfinder difficult.

  “What a fine baby you have,” he said. “Come here, little fellow.”

  The colt had edged closer, curious about the new visitors. When the elderly man tried to pet him, he instantly darted behind his mother. After a moment, he inched forward once more, nostrils quivering. When the elderly man tried to pet him again, he allowed a single brief touch.

  Dallas was shocked. Up till now, the only person who’d gotten close to the colt was Conner, who’d been working with him daily.

  “If you want, we can trailer the horses to your place.” Apparently Gavin didn’t need to see any proof, either.

  “Nothing I’d like better.” Mr. Edenvane gave both horses another fond pat. “But my ranch got to be more’n I could handle, even with my granddaughter and her family living with me. I sold it off a year ago.”

  “We’d be happy to keep her here until you find a new home for her or sell her.”

  Sell her? Dallas was prepared for the mare and colt to go to their rightful owner, or even a friend of the owner. But sold? To strangers?

  “Don’t suppose you have any interest in buying her?” the elderly man asked. “Seeing as she’s from some of the same original stock as your horses.”

  “She is?”

  She was?

  “Her lines go back sixty years. To the original mustangs that roamed this valley. We read up on you and your ranch before we came. On the internet. I know nothing about computers and have no intention of learning at my age. But Marjorie here’s a whiz.”

  “You do a lot of great work for wild mustangs,” she said, her gaze encompassing everyone. “I don’t think Chiquita and her son could have a better home.”

  Please, please say yes!

  “Sir, I’d very much like to own Chiquita. I’ll pay you a fair price for her.”

  “The money’s not important. But I do have a condition. I’d have to be able to come visit her whenever I had a hankering.”

  They shook hands. “You’re welcome anytime.”

  Dallas held back the tears. She felt Conner’s touch on her arm and shrugged, as if to make light of her weepy display. He winked, letting her know she wasn’t fooling him.

  “We brought her papers,” Mr. Edenvane said.

  “Why don’t we go inside? Have a cold drink.”

  “Don’t suppose you have something a bit stiffer? Marjorie’s always hiding my Jack Daniels.”

  “Oh, Grandpa. I only hide it because of the kids.”

  He harrumphed.

  Gavin chuckled. “No Jack Daniels, but I might have a bottle of Jim Beam tucked away.”

  “I think you and I can be friends.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Before we go in, I’d like to see that mustang stallion of yours. If you don’t mind.”

  “Don’t mind at all.”

  Mr. Edenvan
e ran his gnarled hand along Chiquita’s neck one last time, pausing at the healing wound. “They ever find the son of a bitch who did this to her, I swear I’ll wring his neck.”

  “I’ll be in line right behind you,” Gavin said.

  They started down the barn aisle.

  “It’s a ways to Prince’s stall.”

  “I can make it.”

  When no one was paying attention, Conner brushed Dallas’s fingers. She would have liked to take his arm, but they weren’t ready for public displays of affection.

  Telling Gavin, Ethan and Clay was another of those hurdles looming in the distance.

  Frankly, she wasn’t completely confident of their response. They’d probably be happy for their friend. They did like Dallas, after all. But they might worry about Conner taking on too much by dating a woman carrying another man’s baby.

  They wouldn’t be out of line, either. Dallas imagined all their family and friends would feel the same.

  * * *

  “I COULD BE WRONG, but I think that colt is out of your stallion.” Mr. Edenvane sat on the living room couch next to his granddaughter. He sipped a whiskey while she drank iced tea.

  “We’ll know soon.” Dallas had told them about the DNA testing on the colt after Mr. Edenvane had seen Prince and remarked on their resemblance.

  To her, the colt looked like his mother. Mr. Edenvane saw things she didn’t. The shape of the colt’s head. His body structure. His temperament.

  “The vet’s expecting the results any day,” she continued.

  “Will you call me when you hear?”

  “Absolutely,” Gavin assured him.

  He stood next to the wingback chair where Sage sat holding Milo. The baby sucked his thumb and stared at the twirling ceiling fan, disinterested in anything or anyone else. Dallas and Conner were squeezed together on the love seat. Another time, she might have been acutely aware of his nearness. Today, Mr. Edenvane had her full attention.

  She couldn’t say why she found him so fascinating. Despite his withered and frail body, his eyes were bright and intelligent and his wit sharp as a tack. She’d love to take his picture in a different setting other than the barn. His granddaughter, too. The way she gazed at him with respect and devotion...there was a story there.