A cloud wafted over the sun, and a cool breeze swept through the car’s open doors, soothing her hot skin. She let herself drift into a drowsy half-sleep, enjoying that semi-conscious, wishful dreaming state where her mind loosed itself from her conscious control and frolicked through unlikely scenarios. Most of the scenarios involved Nate. Nate, and Nate’s bedroom, with all those candles. Nate, and Nate’s bed. Nate, and all those beds in the bunkhouse, one after the other. Nate and her own sweet self, naked and willing.
Stop, she told herself. Just knock it off. She could feel her body waking to new possibilities, softening, anticipating. At this rate, she’d end up dragging the guy into the back of the car and having her way with him the minute he arrived.
That sparked enough new fantasies and logistical speculations to fill the time until she heard the drum of hoofbeats cresting the top of the hill, galloping into a crescendo, then slowing to a broken, stumbling halt as Nate pulled the horse to a stop. He looked just like he had the first time she’d seen him—pure cowboy, rough and dangerous and sexy as hell.
Dangerous. Yeah, he was that. Dangerous to her peace of mind, dangerous to her precious Plan, and dangerous to her heart. But she could deal with danger.
It was danger that made life worth living.
“Hey,” he said. He looked down at his hands, fooling with the reins, that muscle in his jaw pulsing, his eyes hidden by the shadow of his hat. “Phaedra said you needed me.”
She stepped out of the car and smiled up at him. “Phaedra’s right,” she said. “I need you like I never needed anything in my life.”
He slid off the horse and dropped Honey’s reins. “What made you decide?”
She pulled him down beside her. From their seat in the back of the car, they could see all the way down the hill and across the valley.
“This,” she said, gesturing toward the land below them. “And this.” She leaned into him, closing her eyes, and kissed him with every ounce of eloquence she possessed, moving from tenderness to passion and back again. When she finally opened her eyes, he was staring at her and she felt like she could read his soul.
“I need you too,” he said. He kissed her again, pressing her backward until she lay beneath him in the back of the car. She was helpless, pinned under his weight, but she’d never felt more powerful.
He kissed her again, his hands moving down her body, slipping under her shirt, fumbling with her belt buckle.
“Um, Nate?” Charlie tensed. “There’s just one thing.”
His eyes scanned her face, as if he was worried she was going to change her mind.
She gestured toward the road. “We’re kind of, um, outside. Like, in the middle of the road. Don’t you think we should wait?”
His lips tilted up in a grin. “I can’t,” he said.
“Sure you can. You just…”
“I have to know what you’re wearing.”
He unclasped her belt and tugged at her jeans. Sighing and rolling her eyes in mock despair, she helped him, sliding her loosened jeans down one hip to reveal a leopard-printed slip of silk.
“Mmm,” he said. “Catwoman.”
“Later,” she said. She heaved him off her and sat up, smoothing out her hair.
“But you need me.” He grinned.
“I need a ride first,” she said.
“Well, you know the drill.”
She nodded and took off her boots while he backed the horse over to the car. She slid into place behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist.
“Thanks for rescuing me,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” Nate leaned back against her, his broad back warm against her chest. “But you’re rescuing me too.” He sighed, his breath shaking as he struggled for words. “I’ve always loved the ranch. Loved it more than anything except Sam. It was home, you know? The one place in the world I belonged. I used to look off across the land and see possibilities—new pastures for fencing, new horses, a new barn. But there was always something missing.” He swallowed. “And then when I saw you pull away this afternoon, it changed. All I could see was how empty it was. It looked so—so bleak.” He took a deep breath. “I never felt so alone in my life.” There was a hitch in his voice she’d never heard before, except when he’d thought he might lose Sam. “It never would have been the same with you gone. I never would have been whole.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Don’t be. I learned something.” They moved along in silence, Honey’s ears flicking forward as she sensed the nearness of home. “You know how they used to call it ‘breaking’ horses? Well, I was broken.”
“Sandi broke you,” Charlie said. “You did everything she wanted, and she still whipped you just to keep you scared.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. But when you go to gentle a horse, you push him away, right? You won’t let him close. And then he just wants more than anything to be with you, and next thing you know, he’s whole again, ready to join up even if he’s been hurt.”
Charlie nodded. That was what she’d done with Trouble. Had she done it with Nate too?
He kissed the back of her neck and a thrill ran down her spine. “If we could stop pushing each other away—if we could learn to trust like the horses do, I think we’d both be better off.”
Charlie smiled. “Wow. The kid’s really good.”
“What?”
“Phaedra. She told me she wrote you a speech. That was great.”
“That was me,” he said indignantly. “Hers was all poetic, about sunrises and stuff.”
“Oh.” Charlie felt her heart soften and glow. “That was you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh.”
So that was Nate. The real Nate, spilling his heart out unedited, unrestrained. Telling her, as best he could, that he loved her. And his best was pretty damn good.
She bit her lower lip as the horse moved on, then tilted her chin, looking up at the cloud-strewn sky. Making a silent resolution, she took a deep breath. It was time to unclench her fists and step out of the ring. Time to drop her guard and risk hitting the mat.
“You’re rescuing me too,” she said. “I didn’t know where I was going, but I thought wherever it was, I had to go there alone. I didn’t think I could let anyone into my life until it was all set up—until I had everything I wanted. But you are what I want.” Her throat ached, reluctant to let the words out, wanting to hold her secrets close, and she realized how Nate must feel. Sure, she talked a lot, but she never really brought her true feelings into the open. Nate did—and it was difficult and painful. Quiet as he was, he gave more of himself every day than she ever had.
“You, and Sam, and the ranch, and the horses—you’re what really matters,” she said. “I was going along just fine, doing what I thought I had to do, but I felt broken too. Because it was just me. Everything was all about me and where I wanted to go.” She cleared her throat as tears stung at the back of her eyes. “And now I don’t want to go there alone. I—I want you with me. You and Sam.”
She let the words go, and it was as though she’d unlocked a door in her padlocked heart and let her real self out. She’d never noticed the ache of loneliness, but now that it was gone, she realized she’d been hurting all along.
She’d been broken ever since the day her father left, since a day she couldn’t even remember, and now she was starting to heal.
Chapter 47
The ranch seemed strangely silent as Charlie and Nate stepped into the kitchen. There was a note on the counter.
“Took the girls riding,” it said in an almost illegible scrawl. “Sam’s chores done. Horses fed and watered. See U later. MUCH later. Taylor.”
“Guy should have been a doctor, not an actor,” Nate said. “Got the handwriting for it.”
“Should have been a shrink,” Charlie said. “He knows just what people need.” She pointed to the words “way later” and gave him a sultry smile. “Now, guess what I need?”
“Same thin
g I do.”
“Well, let’s see if I can help you with that.” Charlie led him to the bed, pulling him down beside her. Bringing one hand up to brush her hair out of her face, he gave her a look of such tenderness the room seemed to warm and she could swear the mattress softened beneath her. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said. “I thought you’d given up on me.”
Charlie smiled. “We Jersey girls are fighters.”
“You sure are,” Nate said. “You’re like a superhero.” He stretched out, propping his head up on one hand, and somehow, it seemed natural to join him, to lie down beside him. He turned toward her, then hiked himself up on his elbows. Suddenly he was looking down on her, his body pressed against hers, his face inches away. “The Girl Avenger,” he said. “That’s you.”
“I’ll pick up my gold cuffs and a mask tomorrow,” Charlie said.
“I think it’s time to take the mask off, don’t you?” Nate murmured. He kissed her, gently at first, then more insistently, his tongue seeking hers, his fingers buried in her hair. She reached up and tugged his shirt open, the pearl snaps clicking open one by one, and ran her hands down his bare chest, savoring the way the skin flowed so smoothly over his muscles. Stroking the fine hair that flecked his chest, she let her fingers skim over his nipples and stroke his ribs.
He deepened the kiss and she felt him gather power, his muscles swelling under her hands, his gentle touch firming as he cupped one breast and stroked the tip with his thumb. She arched her back, yielding, helpless, unable to hold back. She wasn’t sure her heart was ready for this. But it was as ready as it would ever be, and she was willing to take the risk. And her body?
It was all set.
They thrashed through the awkwardness of shedding their clothes, Nate tugging her T-shirt over her head, momentarily trapping her arms and taking advantage of her brief helplessness to duck his head and take her breast into his mouth, his tongue teasing while she pretended to struggle against the folds of fabric. When she finally pulled her hands free, she moved them to his chest, signaling with her own touch what she wanted from him, and he took the hint readily, giving her all she’d asked for and more. And more. And more.
Obviously, cowboys were not stupid. Not this one, anyway.
She moved her hands down to his belt, fumbling with the buckle, clawing at the snap on his Wranglers. He shifted his hips, making it easy for her to peel the rough denim down so he could kick his way free.
Charlie pushed him down on the mattress and sat up, straddling his hips. She just wanted to look. Just wanted to see him as she’d remembered him so often since the last crazy time they’d fallen into bed. That had been an accident—sort of. This time, she wanted to savor every moment. She wanted to see his muscles shifting under his skin, the solid mass of his chest, the fine hair trailing down that ranch-raised Grade A six-pack.
That trail led straight to where she wanted to go. The all-American cowboy wore appropriately all-American Fruit of the Looms.
“These have to go,” she said, slipping a finger under the elastic and giving it a gentle snap. He shook his head, despite the fact that his body was doing its best to stretch the white cotton to its limit. She ran her hand over him and he groaned. She paused and played a while, looking straight into his eyes, resisting his efforts to pull her down against him.
Grabbing his wrists, one in each hand, she lifted them above his head to hold him prisoner.
“You’re in no position to be bossy,” she said.
But that brought her body down to his, close enough that he could hook his leg across her and roll, pinning her to the mattress in an MMA move straight off of Spike TV. Before she could recoup, he had both her small hands in one of his large ones, leaving the other free to roam her body, stroking and smoothing, making its way over her breasts and down to her barely-there panties.
“I like these,” he said, flicking the elastic in gentle retaliation. “Are these the emergency panties?”
She laughed. “No. But this is definitely an emergency.”
He slipped his hand beneath the sheer fabric, teasing and touching everywhere but where she wanted him most. Her skin tingled, nerve endings shimmering with electricity, coaxing her to rock and writhe while his mouth covered hers, stifling her moans as her hips bucked up to meet his hand.
***
Nate shifted to one side so he could see Charlie’s face. He wanted to watch as she closed her eyes and her body responded. She was so ready for him, so warm and wet. She tilted her pelvis, begging for more, and he answered, stroking longer, deeper, harder as she tipped her head back, bracing her heels on the bed and lifting her hips.
She was right. The Fruit of the Looms had to go. He skinned himself out of them in a floundering rush, his hands fumbling as he shoved them down his legs and dipped his body to touch hers. There was no thought, no planning, no strategizing to get where he wanted to go; she was with him, carrying him on the tide of her own need.
The tide ebbed and surged and surged again. He didn’t want it to end. Squeezing his eyes shut, he strained to hold on, but she clenched around him, threw her head back, and let out a silent scream and he joined her, crashing into her like a high wind battering the wheat, riding her as she rose and broke and broke again.
***
Charlie was going to die. She was sure of it.
Her head was going to explode, her pelvis was shattering into a million pieces, and her arms and legs were about to fly off to the four corners of the room.
Nate would have to call an ambulance to peel her off the ceiling. And if they ever managed to put her together again, it wouldn’t matter.
She wouldn’t be good for anything but sex ever again.
And that was fine with her.
Strong arms swept around her, his arms, and held her together. She closed her eyes and slept, safe, secure, and whole.
Chapter 48
Charlie opened her eyes to morning light. Rolling over, she smiled at… nothing.
“Dang,” she said to the empty bedroom and almost laughed. She was starting to swear like a cowboy now without even thinking about it. “When did he get up? And why didn’t I hear him?”
She didn’t know the answer to the first question, but the second one was easy. She hadn’t heard him because she’d been sleeping off the effects of the night before, when he’d turned her knees to Jell-O and her brain to sweet butterscotch pudding.
She climbed into her jeans and slid a T-shirt over her head, then padded to the kitchen and peered out the window. The sun had barely risen over the distant mountains, and the whole ranch was lit with a pinkish glow. An empty glass on the counter held a puddle of orange juice, the only evidence of Nate’s presence.
She refilled the glass and gulped down a slug of juice, then headed out the door. It started to swing shut behind her, but she caught it before it slammed.
She’d surprise him.
She crossed the yard as quietly as she could, then eased the barn door open and tiptoed down the aisle. She peered around the corner. He was in front of Honey’s stall, kneeling on the barn floor.
“When I see you, it’s like the sunrise,” he mumbled. Honey scarfed up a mouthful of hay and chewed contemplatively, tilting her head to watch Nate with the equine equivalent of a puzzled expression.
“Like when the birds start singing, and—oh, dang it.” Nate lurched to his feet and pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. “Sorry.”
The horse must have forgiven him because she kept on eating as he set off down the aisle, reading the words scrawled on the paper, his lips moving, his brow creased with concentration. He stopped at Razz’s stall to shake a flake of hay into the feed box, then fell to his knees again. “Like when the birds start singing, and everything’s new, and no matter what happened the day before, you know you’re going to get a fresh start,” he said to the horse. “You’re my, um, my rising—no, wait—you’re—oh, damn.” He rose again and fished for the paper.
He moved over to Juni
or’s stall. “When I see you, it’s like the sunrise—like when the birds start singing, and everything’s new, and no matter what happened the day before, you know you’re going to get a fresh start. You’re my fresh start, my rising sun, and I want to wake up to you every day.”
He dropped to his knees again and looked up at the horse.
“Will you marry me?”
Charlie clapped her hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t hold back the whoop of laughter that escaped her lips. Nate spun to face her, his face crimson.
“I’ve heard about you cowboys and your fondness for livestock, but I never thought it was true,” she said, grinning. “And I thought sheep were the critters of choice.” She slanted her eyes over toward Junior. “Ambitious, aren’t you?”
“No,” Nate blushed as he grabbed the edge of the stall and hoisted himself to his feet. “I was just, um, practicing.”
“Is inter-species marriage legal in this state?” Charlie asked, touching a finger to her lips and looking up to pantomime deep thought. “It’s the ‘Cowboy State,’ so I guess it would have to be.” She softened her smile and took a step toward him. “Wouldn’t you really rather marry a woman? Like, a human one?”
Nate nodded and swallowed. No wonder he’d been practicing on the horses. Now that she was in front of him, he was tongue-tied again.
“So, did you have a woman in mind?”
He nodded. “I, um…”
She stepped in close and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Show me,” she whispered.
He bent down and kissed her, and the kiss was a proposal in itself—soft and yielding, then firm and masterful, it carried her through every conceivable facet of a marriage, from panting need to tender longing and back again. She tightened her arms around him and proposed right back.
Junior let out a frustrated nicker. “Jealous brat,” Charlie muttered. She looked up at Nate, who still held her close, his eyes saying even more than the kiss.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
One Fine Cowboy Page 30
