Penn's Fortune (Saddles & Second Chances Book 2)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  And her body agreed. Her nipples responded, bunching and pressing against her shirt…

  Shit! She was wearing only a T-shirt and no bra. She looked down between their bodies to where her nipples were pressed against the cotton. Jumping back, she crossed her arms over her chest, a squeaking sound falling off her lips. He must have realized what she was thinking because his lips turned up into a grin that made her melt. Suddenly feeling naked under that amazing gaze, she cleared her throat, taking another quick step back. If she planned to ever breathe, she needed to get as far away from him as she could. “I-I need to change. Then we can talk. Okay?”

  He nodded. “That’ll give me a chance to check things out again.” Did he have a sandpapery sound to his voice? Was he as affected as she was over the long five seconds they’d been pressed against one another?

  She wasn’t sure why that thought made her feel lots of pleasure.

  Watching him walk out of her bedroom, she couldn’t deny the man filled out his clothes mighty fine. She barely even noticed his limp. That brought her back to when he was naked and she’d been taken by his rippled muscles, broad shoulders, and the length of his erection. The prosthetic leg had even surprised her. Not because she found it shocking in a revolting way, but Jodi had never mentioned that he had lost his leg. Somehow that made him more attractive, interesting, and she wanted to hear his story. Not to mention the tattoos on his arms that could be compared to an open book begging to be read. She found herself wanting to follow each inked line to see where it would lead her.

  She gave her a head a quick shake.

  Had she lost her mind? Her life had become a whirlwind and she couldn’t control her sexual desire. Then again, who’d blame her? Sexy-in-Wranglers was downstairs waiting to take her to his place. She giggled. If only Jodi knew…

  A few minutes later, she was dressed, an overnight bag packed, and a wiggly Theodore in her arms. Harley met Penn in the living room. He was looking at a framed picture on the fireplace mantel. “This you and your mom?” he asked.

  “I had just turned eight when it was taken. She passed away two years later.” The sincerity she saw in his expression made her heart skip a beat. “It’s tough on a child to lose a parent. Brie had missed out on a lot.”

  “Brie? Do you have a daughter?”

  He chuckled. “No. Brie is my niece. She’s my oldest brother’s daughter.”

  “My life certainly changed. I often wonder if things would have been better if my father would have taken her death easier. He never did manage it well, and yet I’m sure he does the best he can.”

  “Oh, one of those fathers, huh?”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad when it was just the two of us, but then he was bitten by my wicked stepmother, Monique, and his priorities changed. Today, he lives with her in Florida and I barely see him. He’s too busy with my half-brother and sister. But how can I complain? I’m almost thirty”

  “A child always needs a parent, no matter how old they get. By the way, you look just like your mother.”

  “I’ve been told that a few times. I often wondered if that’s why Monique never liked me. I was always a reminder of her husband’s dead wife. Did you find any clues as to who was here before you?” She wasn’t ready to talk to him about such a personal subject.

  “No.” His eyes were so marked with concern that she wanted to hug him. She could get used to someone looking at her in such a way that made her feel so deeply connected.

  Pure logic warned her that this was a perfect recipe on how a woman fell for a man. He stepped in, protected her and he was a hero. Didn’t all women want a hero, especially one that looked this good? She’d read enough romance novels to know this was true. Yet, no falling for her. No way. No how. She couldn’t allow such a silly thing to happen. Sure, he’d saved her, but she wouldn’t dare fall for a man like Penn. First, he wasn’t her type if indeed she had a ‘type’. Second…well, why couldn’t she think of another reason? Like, he had too big of teeth. Or his ears were too big. Stinky breath. Bad kisser. Nope, none of the above.

  In her mind, she replayed how he’d kissed her and held her in his arms. She knew she’d be safe with him.

  “Is the offer still good to stay with you?” There was a slight hitch to her voice.

  “Sure is.”

  Damn, she sure hoped she remembered that he was only being nice. “How about two of us?” She lifted Theodore’s paw and waved it.

  One thick brow popped up. “Wouldn’t he be happier staying at home?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or not.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Does he need a box so he doesn’t jump out of a moving vehicle?”

  She nibbled her bottom lip. “Theodore takes rides all of the time. He lays in the back seat.”

  “Great. A cat who thinks he’s a dog.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  PENN WAS GRATEFUL Harley had agreed to come along with him, but that left another issue. What would his brothers think? Sure, he was too old to worry, or care, what people thought of him and his decisions, but this was different. This involved the family business and there was no way around that bit of information. They’d sworn to stay objective and detached when it came to their cases, and now here he was, bringing one of them home. They might have a big problem with this on so many levels.

  He wasn’t inviting her back to his place to take up where they’d left off earlier. He was only being kind. A gentleman. Nothing more. Yeah, he could tell himself that but his emotions and thoughts were anything but gentlemanly when she was around.

  He reached to take her bag from her, but she pulled back. “I got it.”

  “I was just offering help.”

  “I know.” And she took off for her car. Why couldn’t he keep his eyes off the sweet sway of her bottom? And why in the hell did his zipper stretch?

  Okay, he’d admit he had an attraction for her. After all, she was a pretty woman, that was when she wasn’t staring at him like he had horns for ears. Hell, all women had the right to be cautious of a man, especially when he showed up at her house in the middle of the night, gun in hand and admiring her polka-dotted panties. With that in mind, he really didn’t care what his brothers thought about his houseguest. They were always focused when it came to business, but none of them would walk away and refuse to help somebody that needed it. He was doing what every citizen, especially a Jericho, would do under the same circumstances.

  He hoped his cock got the message loud and clear. This was no time to be pondering sex or what Harley’s curves would feel like under his palms. Or if she made whimpering sounds when she was close to having an orgasm. Harley needed protection, not bedded. He would keep his hands to himself, even if it killed him. He’d pretend that she had warts on her face and missing all her teeth. She might be kind of cute…

  “Oh fuckity-fuck!” He was doomed.

  “What’s that?” Harley looked at him over her open door.

  “I was only saying to be careful. The roads will be slick after the rain.” He stomped to his truck, climbed in and had a strong urge to pound his head against the steering wheel. His leg twitched. Easily tolerated if the twitching was in his only leg. The doctor assured him these so-called ‘phantom feelings’ were normal, even years later after losing a limb. He seemed to have them more when he was stressed.

  Thank God she was driving her own vehicle. He needed to get his internal wheels back on track and could only be accomplished with some space.

  The night air was damp and cool, but his skin was on fire. He stabbed the button on the A/C, grateful for the instant relief as he followed the lights on the back of her Prius. The rain started again, coming down harder and he turned his wipers on full-blast, much like what was going on inside of him as he hurried to wipe away all thoughts of Harley in any way, shape or form that had nothing to do with business.

  He inhaled sharply and swore he could still smell her erotic scent. He clutched his shirt in his fist and brough
t it to his nose, sniffing. Yup, just as he thought. She’d rubbed off on him. How was it possible for a woman to smell so damn good? True issue here wasn’t her scent, but that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d spent so much time brooding over a woman’s smell, at least outside the musk of arousal.

  Switching the knob to high on the air flow, he hoped it helped in ridding his nostrils of Harley. Yet nothing could erase the need building in his muscles.

  This was going to be one long night.

  Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut and allowed her to go to a hotel like most normal people? He would have had to follow her into the city to make sure she made it safely, then drive all the way home. He’d rather be in bed. Who was he kidding? It might be a bit pompous of him, but the only place he felt like she was safe was with him. He’d protect her with his life. And unfortunately, every instinct in his two-hundred-pound body told him she needed more than just a safe place for the night.

  That should be the very reason to keep this at a business level and follow her to a hotel. Every buzzer and warning bell sounded off as they got closer to the Second Chances Ranch, yet nothing made him change his mind.

  He reminded himself that although his body responded to her, and she’d responded to him, she looked at him like he was death walking in boots. Yeah, she wasn’t interested in finding out if the chemistry was real or a fluke. He wasn’t sure why his gut twisted. He, nor any of his brothers, ever had a problem getting a woman—any woman—and this could be a whole new bag of worms. He chuckled. The Jerichos had been magnets for the ladies since they hit puberty. He tried to find a time when a woman didn’t practically throw herself at him. He couldn’t think of one.

  As a bull rider, he’d become a star among the buckle bunnies. There wasn’t a week that went by that he didn’t have a handful of beautiful, sexy women showing her tits or wanting him to do more for them than having him sign an autograph. Sometimes he took them up on their offer.

  He’d never been a saint. Looking back, he couldn’t count the number of women he’d taken up with for a night of emotionless sex. Then the accident changed everything. He’d been at the top of his fame as a rider. He’d thought he was until one rainy night on a dark back road coming home from an event. A car pulled out in front of his new Harley and, because the roads were wet and slippery, the small tires slid fifty feet before hitting the ditch, sending Penn through the air and landing in a grassy spot where he was found sometime later by a passerby who had spotted pieces of his bike laying on the road. The driver of the vehicle that caused the accident was long gone and had continued on their way as if nothing had happened, found and arrested the next day. Penn was lifeflighted to the hospital, bleeding and badly bruised with a dozen broken bones, and a leg that had to be amputated. When he woke up several days later, he’d wanted to die, wished he had, but the doctors had said that he was lucky he survived. But what those around him didn’t understand was that he saw his life ending. He’d been part of a legend in the rodeo circuit. His grandfather, father, and all his brothers had lived and breathed the life.

  It took some time to move on from the accident, but once he stopped looking at life as missed opportunities and started being grateful that he’d been given a second chance, things started to fit into place. He’d been a selfish jackass, going through life seeking pleasure until a glimpse at rock bottom made him a better man…more like his dad would want him to be—more like his older brother, Wes, who was a damn good role model. He’d taken on being a single father like a soldier. He ran the ranch and business like a pro. Penn could only hope to become half the man.

  He loved working the land and the security business, keeping his mind busy. When he wasn’t working surveillance, chasing a case, or sweating on his property, he was sleeping, and sometimes that was only a few good hours a night.

  The time he’d spent in the SEALs had toughened him up. It had taught him the mentality that he could get through anything and brave any circumstance, but his weakness when he was near Harley proved he wasn’t as tough as he thought.

  Up ahead, he saw the ranch sign and followed the Prius onto the narrow, gravel lane that took them onto the private property. Home-sweet-home. He believed he and his bothers owned the best, most beautiful land around. On a clear day, one could see for miles, and the sky just seemed bluer around these parts.

  He wondered if Harley would be amazed at the property too? Considering she had only seen it at night, she had no clue how stunning it was here. It shouldn’t matter if she liked the land, but it did to him.

  She parked in front of his house and he pulled up next to her. A man never knew more pride than owning his own place, his land, no matter how small or elaborate. He and his brothers had built their houses together, blood, sweat and tears, which seemed to add to the importance. Here at Second Chances they would leave a legacy for many generations to come. He chuckled. When had he ever thought of generations before? He was putting the cart before the horse, and relationships, well, were like oil and water to him.

  He met Harley at the steps to the porch and started to reach for the bag, but stopped, figuring she would pull it away again.

  The illumination of the porch light swept over her face and he saw her red-rimmed eyes. His heart kicked up. Had she been crying? Why did that slice through him? Why did he have the desire to pull her into his arms and assure her she’d be okay? If she could see into him she’d probably be back in her car, heading down the country road as far away from him as possible. He needed to be strong. He needed to hide the fact that the longer he looked at her, the more he found her beautiful.

  “So?” One thin brow lifted as well as the corners of her full, pink lips. Theodore meowed loudly and his ears were tucked.

  Yeah, he’d been stupid to even debate her beauty at one time. She had to be the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He was completely taken for a loop by his strong reaction to her. Not only how desirable she was, but how fast she’d taken up residence inside of his libido. He didn’t know her. Not to mention, she didn’t seem to like him much. And yet, that only made him want to prove to her even more that he was a good guy. Sure, he had a past, but where he was now was what counted. Seneca flashed through his mind. Okay, he needed to tighten his scope. What mattered was who he could be in the future.

  “Are we going to stand here in the drizzle, or are we going in?” She laughed and her eyes dazzled.

  He hurried up the stairs and opened the door, allowing her to pass before he stepped in and closed the door against a gust of wind. She stood next to the kitchen island, holding her suitcase with one hand, and her cat in the other. And the awkwardness had returned. Was she remembering what they’d shared here earlier? He certainly was and it couldn’t be helped. It had only been a few weeks since he’d had sex, but his body responded to Harley like it had been years. Head on straight, man.

  Stepping slowly toward her and taking the bag from her, he was glad that she didn’t resist. He wasn’t sure why it mattered that she let him help her. He set it by the hallway, then turned back to her.

  “You can let the cat go if you’d like.”

  She barely had time to loosen her grip before the feline was gone. He darted across the room and slipped under the couch.

  He watched her as she surveyed the open space—kitchen, livingroom, and hallway. She paused momentarily on the framed family portrait, which gave him time to stare. Her hair was slightly damp from the rain and the dark strands reminded him of satin ribbons. Although she was now fully dressed, the loose-fitting shirt and jeans with holes in the thighs and knees did nothing to help him ignore how much he wanted to touch her smooth skin. She had nice, soft curves—and the image of her in the T-shirt lingered in the cells of his brain. He resisted the urge to devour her longer with his eyes.

  He really needed to stop the direction of his misbehaving thoughts. This was no way to stay on the track of a business relationship. He’d brought her here to keep her out of harm’s way an
d suddenly he had become the biggest harm.

  She stepped into the middle of the room and he tried his hardest not to admire the way the lamp illuminated her profile, the pert tilt of her nose, or her lovely lips. He took a long breath, trying to replace thoughts of Harley with images of Seneca’s tight body, how she could make a man melt with just one look, but it didn’t work. He’d gotten a taste of full, feminine curves and he wasn’t sure he could ever go back.

  “This is home.” He was glad his voice worked.

  She turned and smiled. “Very comfortable. Nice. And different with the lights, and clothes, on.”

  She was telling jokes. That was a start. He stuck his thumbs into his front pockets and shuffled in his worn work boots. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more like a teenage boy, even when he was one. She took a step closer and there was that scent again, swirling around his nostrils like a sweet poison. This time though, there was a hint of sensuality to it. He wasn’t sure why his body was reacting to her like an unexperienced goofball, but it certainly would keep him on his toes.

  He pulled his hands out of his pockets and resisted the urge to do something crazy like tuck a loose strand of hair away from her cheek. Those were the impulsive actions of a lover, not a stranger. “Can I make you something to eat?”

  “It’s two in the morning,” she said.

  “Oh, you’re probably just wanting to get to bed then.”

  “You did say you had a place for me to sleep tonight?”

  It took every ounce of control he had not to conjure up a scintillating image of her in his bed, naked, her arms stretched out above her head, and writhing under him. Could she read his thoughts? She blinked and tucked that wayward lock of her hair behind her ear—the one that he had his eye on. That’s when he saw the drop of blood on her forehead, close to her hairline, so faint that he could have easily missed it and he had. “You’re hurt. What happened?”