The Surgeon and the Cowgirl (Harlequin American Romance)

by Heidi Hormel

  “It would have gotten better. I only had another six months of hell and then it would have eased up. If you had trusted—”

  “I still don’t see how it would have been any different after you finished the program. You liked being at the hospital. You complained about everything when you were home. As much as I wanted you to be at home, a part of me dreaded it.”

  “My God, Jessie, did you ever really love me? Why the hell did you marry me?”

  Her throat hurt from holding back the tears, then her chest tightened, the pressure of the emotions crushing her lungs. She gathered herself to scream or lash out physically, anything to relieve the agony. Instead, for once, she let her tears stream down her face. She told him the truth that she’d always hidden from herself. “I married you because I loved you more than I loved anything else in this world, including myself.”

  “You had a funny way of showing it,” he said, his voice less angry but cold. He got up and walked into the house.

  Jessie wanted to run after him and shake him until he understood that he’d made her divorce him. He’d walked out first, emotionally. She’d had to leave or lose herself. She looked deep inside and was bare-butt naked honest with herself. What did she want him to say? That he was sorry for not loving her enough to give up his own dreams? When she’d filed for divorce, she’d wanted him to come crawling back to say that and more. The past three years had changed her. She’d had to rebuild herself from rodeo trick rider to therapist. That transformation had been painful and heart wrenching at times. She’d faced all of it without flinching. She wiped at her tears and followed Payson inside.

  When she stepped through the sliding door, he clicked off the TV. Another tear made its slow way down her cheek as she stood in front of him. She wanted to look in his eyes as they talked. He held out his hand. She shattered, more tears wetting her face as she sank beside him on the couch. His arms enclosed her and his hands held her softly but with a strength that anchored her. That’s what she’d searched for, then and now—the freedom to go her own direction, knowing that he was there to hold her when she shattered into a million pieces, to catch her when she fell.

  “Payson,” she whispered.

  “Shh,” he said. “It’s been a tough day. We can’t change the past. I know that, but we can change how we view it. Don’t you think we started that tonight?”

  Jessie didn’t want to talk anymore, so she sat quietly, the tears on her cheeks drying but her eyes still damp. When she finally felt him shifting, she didn’t want to move.

  “Let’s get comfortable,” he said softly. His hands and fingers found the tightness in her neck and shoulders as he stretched out and pulled her down beside him. She draped herself over him, her face comfortably nestled into the curve of his neck where she could feel his warmth and smell the familiar spice of him. He let his breath out on a deep sigh, settling her more firmly against him.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, and her brain sluggishly considered shifting away, standing up and going to bed on her own. Talking about Violet and those days after the miscarriage had made her unsteady, craving his touch. It’d been his love—always—that had kept her strong. Strong until the never-ending grind of trying to mesh their clashing schedules, their different dreams, their different lives had made her forget that his love was a support, not just a heavy blanket. So she’d pushed him away because she thought standing on her own, being strong by being alone, would finally make her heart safe. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she should have turned to him, rather than away.

  His arms tightened just a fraction more. She didn’t pull back. She clasped him more closely to her, as she would a hurting child, a frightened pony or her best friend. Payson wasn’t any of those, but they both needed the human touch for right now. Tomorrow she’d struggle back up onto her own two feet.

  Chapter Nine

  Payson woke, the warm weight of Jessie wrapped around him. He should get up and go to his very solitary bed, leaving her the couch. That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

  She mumbled in her sleep, and he held her tightly against him, stroking her hair. The familiar feel of her against him took him right back to their life together—the freedom and joy he’d felt each time they’d made love. Their teenage passion had matured during the marriage into something that, while intense and all consuming, had a softer side. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find that again. He clutched her to him, wanting to hold on to that feeling.

  Then, with an odd sensation that was somewhere between dreaming and waking, he didn’t question that he was back in their old apartment as he watched his Jessie walk across the bedroom with that rolling-hipped stroll that made him want her right then and right there. She smiled. She knew the effect her cowgirl walk had on him. He didn’t care. He wanted her to know what she did to him because he knew from the deep green of her eyes that she felt the same heat. He reached out for her, and she stepped into the loose circle of his arms, magnificently naked. With her height and with him sitting, his face rested comfortably in the valley of her breasts as her hand stroked his hair. He sighed, his breath moved across her chest. Her nipples peaked. He smiled. He liked watching her respond so quickly and thoroughly to his touch.

  She moved closer, her hands tangling in his hair as she let out a breathy sigh. His hands explored the long length of her back, settling to where it curved into the strong roundness of her buttocks. He leaned back on the bed and she followed him down. Her body covered his with her heat and yielding softness.

  “Payson,” dream Jessie whispered. “Stop fooling around. I need you.”

  Her impatience made him want to laugh, to take her hard and fast. Not this time, though. He’d stretch out their loving so he could feel the play of muscle under her skin and watch that skin pebble where he touched it. The physician in him knew the detailed reasons for the changes, but the lover enjoyed that he could make the strong Jessie a pliable puddle with his fingers and tongue. That’s what he wanted to do now. He wanted to take control. In bed, Jessie never complained that he was the one calling the shots. He lifted her away from him so he could roll her under him. He heard her squeak and then he was free-falling.

  He wasn’t dreaming now as they hit the floor with a solid thump, Payson on top of Jessie. He lay for a moment, stunned. He wanted to move. He knew he should, but the sensation of Jessie under him was so sweet.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, giving himself more time. “Are you okay?” He moved his hands down her body, stroking her just a little to assure himself this was real.

  * * *

  JESSIE TRIED TO PUSH away sleep. Her sluggish brain told her that she and Payson had fallen from the sofa. Her arms—not fully connected to her brain—wrapped around him. She stroked them down his back as she always did after they made love.

  With every inch of their bodies touching, her nerves pulsed, centering on the spot where he nestled between her thighs. She moved just a little to ease the ache. Payson groaned deep in his chest. The primal sound vibrated through her.

  Remember the divorce, she told herself. Remember the pain.

  Payson’s familiar and skilled hands moved under her shirt and along her sides to a spot just above the band of her jeans. Her traitorous body arched into the caress. “Payson,” Jessie said softly, but he nuzzled her neck, and she didn’t know what she’d meant to say, except maybe, Don’t stop. Her own hands slid under his shirt, sinking into his firm back muscles. She sealed her mouth to his, reveling in his taste and the weight of him.

  Then his hands were at her jeans, and she lifted so he could pull them down without breaking the kiss. Her hands fought with his to rid him of his pants and his briefs.

  For one breathless moment, he hovered over her, his blue gaze locked on her, searching her face, and she gasped, “Payson, now, please.”

  He didn’t look away as he plunged forward and
she lifted up to meet him. For another second they stayed frozen, her body adjusting again to him. When he moved faster, more surely, she met his every thrust with an upward, triumphant move of her own hips.

  Seconds, hours later, she flew apart, her back arching and her body shuddering. Payson’s low groan of satisfaction took her back up to the peak and she shuddered in the final complete surrender and triumph.

  Jessie lay for a moment, breathing quickly and deeply, her body molding to Payson’s in the barely wide-enough space between the couch and the coffee table. She didn’t feel the roughness of the rug or the hardness of the floor, her body numbed by pleasure. Payson stirred, and she saw his mouth open. She snapped her eyes closed, blocking out whatever regrets he would voice. He remained quiet and shifted away. She stopped herself from yanking him back into the cocoon that included just the two of them, where the real world wasn’t allowed to intrude.

  When she heard him walking away and then back to her, she kept playing possum even as he tenderly placed a pillow under head and covered her with a blanket. She heard him sigh, and the next noise she heard was the shower running.

  With him safely in the bathroom, she opened her eyes, sat up and gathered her clothing. She raced to the spare room. Oh, God, what had she done? She stood in the small room with its futon and bare walls, her clothes pressed against her stomach, frozen with indecision. Her gut told her to run as far as she could. But she had nowhere to run and no money to run with. She collapsed onto the futon. This had been a huge mistake. What had she been thinking about? Nothing but the pleasure of his touch. And neither of them had bothered with protection. Where was she in her cycle? Could they have made an even worse mistake? Could she already be pregnant? She counted again. They should be safe, but nature had a way of surprising you. For a fleeting second, Jessie really wanted nature to surprise her.

  * * *

  PAYSON LET THE hot water run over him, hoping the pounding spray would give him a jolt of inspiration. Instead, Jessie filled his mind. Finding her under him had been... It didn’t matter what it had been, other than a mistake. He wasn’t a teenager, and he should have had better control over himself. He had stopped being a walking bundle of hormones years ago, but not tonight. He’d even forgotten protection. What had he been thinking? How sweet and yielding she felt under him? Yeah, that was about it. His dream about Jessie had gotten mixed up with finding her pressed up against him in real life. Being half-asleep was no excuse. He’d known in that cold clinical part of his brain exactly what he’d been doing, which hadn’t stopped him from wanting one little taste. That one nibble had led to another and another and... He turned off the shower and stood for a moment. No matter the consequences, they fit together as if they’d never been apart, her skin just as soft and her responses racing through him. It had been different, too, something deeper—less combustion and more slow burn. Later. He’d think about all of this later.

  While he shaved, he laid out today’s game plan. First, he’d tell Jessie he needed to spend the day at work, which wasn’t a lie. And being in the quiet of the weekend hospital might help him figure out what this morning meant, besides the most satisfying sex—all right, the only sex—he’d had since their divorce. He also had to wrap his head around the idea that what they’d done this morning could result in a pregnancy. He leaned over to rinse his face so he couldn’t see his grin at the thought of a baby.

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T HEAR or see Jessie when he finally came out of his room, and he resolved to give her space today. She was probably regretting what they’d done. Payson stood in front of the closed spare-room door, listening, he told himself, not putting off this first awkward...whatever. Just knock on the door.

  “Jessie,” he said as he knocked. He listened for a moment and knocked again.

  Through the closed door, Jessie said, “Do you need something?”

  “Just wanted to let you know that I’m going to the hospital.”

  A brief silence and the door opened, “Can you give me a ride to the ranch?”

  Was the red on her neck whisker burn? “Forgot about your Scout,” he said, dropping his gaze, which didn’t keep him from taking in the scent of her.

  “Are you ready now?”

  “If you are,” he said, wanting to get beyond this stiff politeness but not sure how. “I’ll meet you by the Range Rover.”

  He didn’t wait for her answer but moved quickly to get his keys. The thirty minutes out to the ranch would give them a chance to...what? Talk? They weren’t so good at that. Or they hadn’t been. Last night on the patio proved that they had changed. So today in the car did he say thanks for the incredible morning sex? Or did he just ask her what she wanted for dinner?

  * * *

  “THANKS FOR GIVING me a ride,” Jessie said as he pulled onto Scottsdale Road from his place.

  He nodded. “When do you need me to pick you up?”

  Jessie kept her gaze glued to the rushing traffic. “I’ll get a ride. When will you be back at the condo? It’ll take me a couple of hours to take care of the stock and then I need to...I guess I’ll be out there most of the day. I should be back by dinnertime. Don’t you still keep a key hidden under a rock? You always did that at our place.”

  He refused to be disappointed that she’d be gone all day, because that’s what he had planned, too. “It’s the rock to the left of the front door, with the black streak through it,” he admitted. “You want me to do...I mean, make anything special for you tonight?”

  “You don’t have to cook for me.” She glanced over at him, then went back to staring out the side window. “This morning shouldn’t have happened.”

  She did want to talk about it. But what should he say? “It’s understandable. Scientifically, we—”

  “Really, that’s the argument you’re going with?” Now, she glared at him.

  “I don’t know what I was going to say,” he blurted out. He gripped the steering wheel hard and kept his gaze glued to the white car in front of him. “I didn’t ask you stay with me for that.”

  “Good to know, but it can’t happen again. We’re divorced. There has been a lot of water under that bridge.”

  Even when he had to tell his patients’ parents bad news, he didn’t feel as out of his element as he did now.

  “We agree,” she said. “We’re only colleagues.”

  “That’s right,” he said, wondering if her voice sounded unsure.

  “I won’t be staying long, anyway. Spence is on the case. I’m sure he’ll want to get you out of my clutches as fast as he can.”

  “He’s doing this as a favor, and I don’t think he dislikes you as much as you imagine.” He looked over to see her shoulders hunch just a little.

  “Thanks for calling him,” she said quietly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They lapsed into silence, and he turned on the radio. Obviously, they had completed their big talk. His cell rang, and he used voice commands to answer without looking at the caller.

  “Dr. MacCormack here.”

  “Cut the crap. It’s just me,” Spence said with gruff impatience.

  “Not had your coffee? I’m just taking—”

  “Everything’s closed up tight for the weekend, and we’ll be lucky to get the judge to look at the papers on Monday.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessie cut in. “I need to get back in my house, and I have—”

  “Jessie? Didn’t know you were there. I’d say we’ll be lucky to get anything more than a stop on the auction this week. But that doesn’t mean you’ll get back in the house.”

  “She really does need to be able to get into her home,” Payson said.

  “She’s staying with you. You have two bedrooms at your place and it’s free. What’s the problem?”

  Payson scrambled for explanation abou
t why it was a problem and keeping what happened private.

  “Oh, shi...you slept together, didn’t you?” Spence asked, obviously thinking he already knew the answer.

  “That’s none of your business,” Payson said to cover Jessie’s gasp. “Keep us apprised of your progress.” Payson clicked off the phone with a button on his steering wheel.

  * * *

  JESSIE KNEW IF never-off-his-phone Spence figured out that they’d slept together, everyone else would, too. She snuck a glance at Payson and their gazes locked, the tingle of awareness starting again. How did he do this to her? “It was a lucky guess,” she finally said.

  “Spence won’t say anything to anyone.”

  “Are you ashamed of what we did?” she snapped. Of course he was ashamed. The morning should never have happened, and it didn’t change anything between them.

  “Not ashamed, but it wasn’t my finest moment,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even protect you.”

  “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.” A classic Payson move—thinking that he had all of the cards and that put him in charge.

  “I hadn’t just been kicked out of my house.”

  “So you think I was so upset and pathetic that I was willing to take comfort anywhere?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said, voice low and rough with frustration. “You always take what I say the wrong way. I know you’re competent. I know you can handle yourself.”

  She held back for a moment, giving her brain a chance to catch up with her emotions. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have jumped on what you said. It’s not like... This is just so darned awkward.”

  He turned and smiled at her. She sucked in her breath as that shy grin went right to her heart, the way it always did. Just in time, she stopped herself from grinning back.

  He reached out his hand to take hers as he left the highway to wind through the narrow roads to the ranch. “Awkward to say the least, but we lived through the at-home dye job.”