Cowboy on the Run

by Devon McKay

  “Hell, even then you knew what you wanted out of life. One of the things I loved most about you. You just always knew.”

  Jessie took a step back, and he stepped forward, following her lead, until her back was flush against the house.

  “For some of us, it takes a little longer to figure things out.” He placed both of his hands on each side of her and leaned in, his words brushing against her lips. “Except when it came to you. I always knew how I felt about you.”

  The heat of her hand warmed his chest. He knew her well enough to know the half-hearted effort meant her reserves had started to waver. Even so, he retained some distance, waiting for another sign.

  She summoned him to come closer as her hands clutched his shirt, pulling him into her. Her lips parted, a dangerous dare inviting him to kiss her. The motion made the corners of his mouth tug upward into a smile. Jessie had never been one for subtle hints.

  He kissed her with a conserved gentleness, controlling the growing desire scoring through his veins, a faint thought echoing inside his head to take things slow. It was Jessie who demanded more, returning his kiss with a smoldering fire.

  Suddenly, she pushed him away, stabbing him with a look of distrust.

  Stunned, he wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. One minute she was kissing him, the next...

  “We were young, stupid kids. A lot has changed since then, Nate,” she snapped.

  He would’ve had to be deaf not to hear the irritation in her tone. He was experiencing the same annoyance, and needed some kind of release from the sexual tension bouncing between them.

  “What do you want from me?” she shouted, stepping forward to push him back. Her actions explained little; his head still reeled from the passion in her kiss.

  Nate leaned against the porch rail and breathed in a heavy lungful of air. “What do I want? I thought I made that clear.” He peeled himself away from the brace and, in one long stride, made his way to the steps at the entrance of the porch.

  “You...I want you,” he stated without question. “And do you honestly think I would kill an animal...out of cold blood? Out of spite? I thought you knew me better.” He shook his head in disbelief, his blood running cold. She had to know him better. Jessie was the only one who had ever known him.

  “At least, you used to know me better. And as far as you succeeding...I always knew you would. Makes me proud of you,” he admitted, jumping off the porch, omitting all three steps. “Not vindictive.”

  A cloud of dirt stirred at his feet, awakening a circle of dust. He was gone before the dirt settled.

  Jessie watched as he disappeared down the length of her driveway, his words still ringing in her head. Nate had changed, not in the way he looked, but in the way he carried himself. He was still the handsome, dangerous man she had fallen in love with, only now a little different. Almost as if he was more in control. His edge a little sharper, the hunger in his eyes...well, hungrier, as if he knew what he wanted.

  And he desired her.

  So much for self-control.

  She closed her eyes, recalling the way his nearness had made her pulse race, the thunder of her heartbeat still pounding in her ears. What had come over her?

  Jessie touched her mouth. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. She had wanted him to kiss her. In fact, she’d thrown herself at him. She couldn’t seem to help it, longing to feel his skin on her skin, the warmth of his naked flesh against hers. The yearning for his touch had almost been a necessity, too strong to ignore, overpowering her better judgment.

  She forced her mind to stop wondering, to let sleeping dogs lie. Although, memories had a way of fading or becoming more pronounced with time. And at the moment, hers appeared to be far from tired.

  Still shaken, Jessie focused on his words. He was right. She’d always known what she wanted—to run the ranch, to live on the farm, regardless of the hard work entailed. Of course, none of it mattered much now. She could never leave the ranch anyway. Not since her father’s stroke.

  But Nate...he had none of those ties. He could pick up and go at the drop of a hat. He did it once. And he would again. She would be a fool to think otherwise.

  She sighed, knowing better than to doubt his plans, despite the undoing of his flirty touches and empty promises. All of those thoughts in her head instructing her to say no, the good intentions telling her to stay as far away from him as she could, were useless. Her traitorous body had a mind of its own.

  For a moment, she allowed those fears to run rampant. There was no way she was over him. Quite the opposite. She was in over her head. And worse—as if things could possibly get any worse—that alone made her the biggest fool on the planet.

  Chapter 5

  Jessie showed up to the Lucky Horseshoe an hour before what Ed advertised as J.W.’s Last Call was intended to start. She managed a smile, having little doubt even James Walker himself would have been entertained by the witty concept.

  Struggling with a full plate of food in each hand, she used her elbow to open the door and enter the pub, kicking it closed behind her with the heel of her boot. Upon entrance, she was disarmed by the ominous silence of the bar. Even with the lights on, the room seemed shadowed by a gloomy, foreboding premonition. She glanced around, shaken by the quiet.

  Without music and scattered conversations, the place was unsettling, like the aftermath of a bomb. Or a death...

  Jessie sighed, feeling rather foolish. Of course someone had died. The funeral happened to be the reason she was here in the first place. Had she expected saying goodbye to James Walker was going to be easy?

  Attempting to shake her uneasiness, she placed the plates on a nearby table. At least Rosita’s chicken would be a hit. Who didn’t love her housekeeper’s fried chicken? Jessie thanked her lucky stars for employing such a good cook in her household, although the woman couldn’t be further from an employee. She was family.

  Food is comfort for the soul, Rosita often said, and her chicken had been papa Walker’s favorite meal.

  When Nate first left, Jessie had migrated toward his father, getting quite close to the man. He had turned out to be a blessing, considering his determination to be a better grandfather than he was a father.

  And now the old man, dear to her heart, was gone. Her eyes stung with the promise of unshed tears. Damn it, she swore she wasn’t going to cry today, hating herself for showing weakness.

  A defiant tear raced down her cheek, despite the pledge, and she wiped it off with the back of her hand. She had no idea she would miss the ornery old man so much. Or that it would hurt this much to say goodbye to him. Jessie brushed away another runaway tear, then glanced around the bar again. There was still a ton of things to do. Good. It would help to stay busy.

  Pushing tables together in an effort to form one large platform in the middle of the room, she surveyed her progress, noticing how incomplete they looked without a tablecloth. Surely, Ed had something in the storeroom.

  Besides a full stock of beer and whiskey, the back room was a catch all for anything needed for the bar. Perhaps she would get lucky.

  Making her way toward the spare room, she turned the corner and ran into Ed’s son, Alan. He seemed as surprised as she, although he managed to catch her before she lost her balance.

  “Oh sorry, Alan. I didn’t know you were here,” she said once up-righted, noting he held onto her a little too long.

  Unable to hide her bewilderment, Jessie wondered why he was working today of all days, despite being certain of the answer. It was a well-known fact Alan intended to take over the bar one day.

  Still, it was a little disconcerting. She’d been so sure she had the bar to herself for a few minutes.

  “Don’t you know I am always here?” He flashed a care free smile before chuckling at his own joke. His laughter echoed in the small space. “I haven’t convinced you yet that I live here? Yeah, I’ve got a bed I pull in front of the cooler. It’s perfect. I can crack the door open in case it gets too hot.
” He pointed over his shoulder for emphasis.

  She smiled at his silliness, wondering if there might have been a little truth to the jest. As much time as he spent in the bar, she didn’t doubt he’d spent a night or two there.

  “You’re okay, right? I didn’t mean to startle you.” He touched her shoulder gently.

  Jessie nodded her head and stepped back, attempting to regain her composure. “Yeah, I’m fine. You just surprised me, that’s all. My mind is elsewhere,” she said, tears blinding her as they burned hotly behind her eyelids.

  “I knew this day would be hard on you.”

  He stepped closer, filling in the gap again and embracing her with a pair of consoling arms. Jessie allowed the comfort for a moment before stepping back to study his face. He wore the same expression she always saw. Concern. For her.

  For the first time, she took in his handsome features. Why had she never noticed before? The answer slapped her back into reality. Because of Nate. Damn him.

  Alan was tall and lanky like Nate, but all similarities stopped there. Ed’s son was attractive in the boy next door kind of way with his fair skin and blond hair. And he did have beautiful eyes, the color of faded denim. A distinct opposite of Nate’s intense sapphire spheres, which had the uncanny ability to peer through to her very soul.

  Nate was quite the opposite, dark and dangerous. Exciting, unpredictable. Similar to a thunder storm with his pent up fury. And she was an idiot. Alan was safe, everything about him screamed security. He was stable and predictable.

  She stared into the tame, pastel blue eyes, hoping to lose herself. No such luck. Nothing. No deep search into her soul, no skipping of her heart, no loss of breath on her part. Nothing.

  Although, at the moment, his gaze did seem a little unsettling. He came closer, leaning in. She took an immediate step back, the hard steel of the storeroom’s door resting against her backside. Unnerved, she glanced around, searching for an out.

  She had little options left, bordered by a wall of boxes on one side of her and Alan taking up the space in front of her, his arm circling in from the right side. This was too close for comfort, even if he had the best of intentions.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she choked on the thick scent of his aftershave, a strong wave of Old Spice both he and his father seemed to favor. Without further notice, his mouth enveloped hers, warm and wet, stealing the breath from her lungs.

  Shocked, Jessie placed a firm hand against the man’s chest and pushed him away. Even in her stupefied state, she noted his chest wasn’t half as stimulating or as provoking as Nate’s. Alan didn’t have the same chiseled abs, she realized, recalling the strong memory of hard cut muscles beneath her hand. Nor, did she suffer the same jolt of electricity.

  Or, the agitation.

  Immediately, she was shamed by her comparison of the two men. It was like comparing apples to oranges. Of course, if she were to continue her assessment, Alan’s kiss came up short, too, not even close to the intoxicating way Nate’s mouth consumed hers, shaking her to the very core.

  No, his kiss reminded her of a platonic kiss between friends, a sloppy one at that. And she didn’t want a repeat performance.

  Holding her hand stationed against his chest appeared to get her message across. A flint of something stained his eyes a darker shade of blue, causing her to inhale a quick intake of breath. Was it anger? No, not Alan. It must have been hurt. A pang of guilt shot through her.

  So what if he didn’t make her knees go weak just by looking at him? She, for one, knew passion was overrated, leading to certain heartbreak. He was a good man. Sweet and dependable. Two qualities making him a great catch. A family man, the kind she needed in her life. Why couldn’t she love him? Why did she have to be in love with someone as unpredictable as Nate Walker?

  Jessie turned to leave the storeroom only to find the culprit who occupied her thoughts standing in the outer hall. She almost jumped out of her skin. How long had Nate been there?

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” he snarled, sparing a glance in her direction before darting a lethal gaze toward Alan. His eyes shone a wicked blue, so dark they were almost black. A raw tenseness filled the air. “I’m just enjoying the show,” he jeered, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. A chilling smile spread across his face.

  The show? Jessie gasped. The man was impossible! Although, from his position, she could see how he might have imagined more than what had happened.

  She began to object, but stopped herself. Let him think what he wanted. It’s not as if anything she said could or would change his opinion anyway. Besides, who was she to tell him otherwise?

  She studied his face. His expression was cold and controlled, his jaw clenched. In a flash, the frigid smile broadened, contorting his features as if he changed his mind and now considered the display amusing.

  He didn’t fool her, not with the lack of laughter in the blue-black of his eyes. He had the uncanny ability to trick most with this mask, but the smile was anything but humorous, as if anger boiled just beneath his skin.

  Jealousy?

  Her heart lurched in her chest. Even after all these years, he still suffered if another man paid her any attention?

  His words from a few nights ago echoed in her head. I’m not leaving here without you.

  For a moment, she delighted in his envy, allowing the notion to soothe her bruised ego. Jessie gambled with the idea of adding gasoline to the fire by flirting with Alan. Even though she felt he overstepped his boundaries, she refused to use the sweet man as a pawn and quickly discarded the thought.

  “I guess there’s nothing quite as inspiring as a death in the family to invoke your most inner desires, huh, Jessie?” Nate’s words cut through her like a knife, his glare full of blame and condemnation.

  Seething with anger, she placed her hands on her hips and stared back in defiance. How dare he insult her so?

  “I don’t know what you’re implying, but Jessie’s been through a lot,” Alan intervened, showcasing a bold, new side she had never seen before. “She’s lost a loved one, too.”

  Nate eyed the man, distrust evident in his stare. “And I’ll bet you’re just the guy to comfort her through this loss, huh?”

  His statement was cruel, meant to hurt her more than Alan. It worked, the arrow piercing straight through to her heart.

  Nate peeled his lean frame from the wall and walked away without another word. Once again leaving her in his dust.

  Frustration flushed under her skin like sharp needles. She had just lost another battle of wills with the irritating man, this time because she’d been too angry to defend herself.

  “I’m taking that was...”

  Alan’s voice startled her, releasing her from her thoughts. “Yeah...that’s Nate all right.”

  “He’s... Well, he seems...”

  “Moody?” Possessive? Arrogant? Jealous? Any of the words described the man to a T.

  “No, not moody,” Alan said with a chuckle. “But he did seem upset, and rightfully so. I can’t imagine losing my dad.”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. Everyone made pardons for him. In fact, excuses and Nate went hand in hand.

  “That, whatever that was, wasn’t about his dad,” she sputtered. “He’s just...he was...agh...” Staking his claim? It was insulting. He considered her of no more importance than a piece of property. Something he owned. “Just ignore him, Alan.” She stormed out, too frustrated to further her explanation of his actions.

  Guests started arriving, and for the rest of the day, Jessie attempted to ignore Nate. However, her effort had been in vain as she caught dark, scornful glances throughout the day.

  Of course, there had been a few melancholy stares also, which was something she couldn’t handle. It was much easier to hate him, to be angry. After all, he would be leaving soon anyway.

  The afternoon was not the daunting cloud of sorrow Jessie had expected it to be. Instead, there was laughter and joy. Funny stories about J. W. were
shared or exchanged amongst the many groups of people, along with a few clever songs composed of uncensored lyrics.

  Well into the midnight hour, James Walker’s memory was honored until Ed decided it was time for the last call of the night. As the guests began thinning out, Jessie busied herself with the enormous task of cleaning up. Her efforts were interrupted as Nate slipped an empty beer bottle onto the tray she was filling. She glanced up, transfixed by the deep, intense blue of his gaze for several minutes.

  “It was a good turn-out. Your father would have been happy,” she stated before returning to clearing the table.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, a scowl lining his face. He twisted open the top off of another beer, rolling the cap between his fingers before tossing it on her tray. “The old man would have been ecstatic.”

  Her head snapped up. The sarcasm in his words were razor sharp, hiding decades of pain. Anguish darkened his eyes, and she fought the urge to reach out to comfort him.

  Jessie stopped herself, heeding how quick the hurt changed to another emotion, something unreadable. He continued to stare, swallowing a long draw off the bottle of Budweiser in his hand, his gaze never straying from her face.

  His expression seemed predatory, almost animalistic. Taking the tray from her, he placed it and his beer on the table and stepped closer, his body sliding into place against hers. As if he had never left.

  Her pulse quickened as Nate’s heat flowed deep into her bones, and his nearness threatened to steal more than her breath. Jessie’s entire body sizzled, her skin hot in response. Even her nipples betrayed her, hardening into small pebbles taut against her T-shirt as they brushed the solid hardness of his chest.

  Jessie’s blood thundered through her body, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his hold. Soon, he would kiss her. She willed him to, unable to stop the yearning of his lips against hers. After an eternity, his mouth crashed down, devouring hers, consuming and demanding.

  “You belong to me,” he said huskily, ending the kiss with brutal honesty.