A Son for the Cowboy

by Sasha Summers

  “Because you don’t want my help? Or because I make you nervous?”

  She stared at him, her cheeks flushing pink.

  “Poppy?” He stepped forward, erasing the space between them. “I want to be a good man, too.” He slid his arm around her waist. “It is about you.” He pulled her against him. “It’s about us.” She felt so good, just being in his arms.

  Her hands flexed against his chest, her voice wavering. “Don’t you do that, Toben Boone. Don’t you dare.”

  He froze, watching the fury on her face.

  “Don’t pretend you want me. That I’m special... Don’t do that. Not now. I believed that before... But not this time. I can’t be wild and crazy, Toben. I can’t...give in to this and wake up to an empty bed.” She stared at his chest, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t make me want something that can’t exist.”

  Her words sliced through his heart. She was special. Special wasn’t enough. No, Poppy was the only woman who made him hope. Yes, he’d left her, acted like an ass and lost her. Until drinking had almost killed him. Even then, he’d look for her—hoping their paths would cross and he’d have another chance. This might not be how he’d envisioned it but he wasn’t sorry. She was here, in his arms, resisting what they both wanted. Telling him she wanted him. Hell, not just wanted him, but wanted to be wild and crazy with him. His body was more than willing, but he didn’t want to complicate things—not yet.

  “Who said it can’t exist? Dammit, Poppy, I want you,” he ground out the words, unable to let her go. “So bad it hurts. But I—”

  She kissed him then, her hands tangled in his hair and holding him tight. She was on tiptoe, swaying forward to melt against him. He groaned, his hold tightening on her, all but crushing her. Her scent wrapped around him as her lips moved against his, so soft.

  She held on to him, hungry and desperate, the throb of her heart matching his own rapid beat. He should stop this before he was lost. As much as he ached for her, she didn’t know how he felt. And loving her was more important than being in her bed.

  But he’d forgotten how it was with her. How out of control they were together.

  Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue teasing him. He groaned again, opening his mouth and welcoming the stroke of her tongue. His control crumpled then. Everything he needed was right here. No way he was letting her go. A shudder shook her as he deepened the kiss. His hand slid through her long curls and he cupped the back of her head to drink her in.

  Her hands slid down, stroking the back of his neck before gripping his shoulders and pressing against him. Her touch rocked him to his core, kicking up both warning and an undeniable yearning. He paused, sucking in lungfuls of air, and stared at her. Her face was flushed, raw hunger in her dark eyes. His fingers traced along the curve of her cheek and jaw. She closed her eyes, turning into his touch—shivering as his thumb traced the edge of her full lips. She was beautiful, so damn beautiful. He couldn’t resist.

  A soft moan caught in the back of her throat as his lips traveled up the side of her neck to latch on to her earlobe. His teeth grazed the soft skin, the hitch in her breath stamping out any lingering restraint.

  Her hands fell to his waist, tugging his shirt free. Her hands slid beneath the fabric, her fingers flexed against his spine, her nails lightly scoring up his back—covering his skin in goose bumps. When she tugged his T-shirt up and over his head, he ducked, eager to be rid of it. Anything that got him closer to her...

  “Rowdy?” he asked, capturing her hands in his.

  She blinked, her gaze falling from his. She was breathing heavy, the pulse in her throat thrumming rapidly. Her dark gaze held his as she took his hand and led him down the hall to her room. When they were inside, she pushed the door shut, facing him as she tugged her T-shirt over her head.

  He didn’t wait. His hands were gentle, sliding up her arms—savoring her soft, warm skin beneath his roughened touch. His fingers slid along the silken straps of her plain white silk bra, going round her back to free the clasp. He stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers, as the fabric fell away.

  Their breathing was erratic, each gasp brushing her nipples against his chest. It was raw and electric, sweet and oh so tempting. His lips sought hers, his hands exploring her satin skin, sliding along her sides. He cupped the full weight of her breast, his thumb caressing the tip and driving them both mad.

  One second she was in his arms, the next she was gone.

  He blinked, watching her strip, tossing her clothes without care. When she was naked, Toben could only stand and stare. She was more beautiful than he remembered, every curve and hollow demanding his attention.

  “Damn, Poppy.” His voice was low and husky.

  Her smile wobbled.

  He unbuttoned his jeans, then sat on the edge of the bed to tug his boots free. When his jeans and boxers hit the floor, Poppy pushed him back on the bed.

  Toben rested on his elbows, watching her closely. She was inspecting him, sizing up the situation—he’d seen her do that on the circuit. Never rushing in without considering all the angles. He grinned. For all her show, she was nervous. Hell, he was nervous. And he was pretty sure he’d done this a hell of a lot more than she had.

  He sat up, pulling her between his legs. His hands cupped her cheeks. She stared at him, swallowing, as he shook his head. “I found you,” he whispered.

  She kissed him, once, gently. Then again.

  When her lips parted, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her beneath him. She gasped, her arms twining around his neck, her giggle soft. Damn but he loved the sound of it. Her hands gripped his back, her touch firm but unsteady.

  No way he was going to rush this. Not until he’d tasted her. The tips of each breast. The sensitive skin along her sides. He paused, running a finger along several fine scars on her abdomen. He’d never noticed them before. But up close, they were impossible to miss. From her fall? He pressed kisses on each one. Her fingers tangled in his curls, but his hands and mouth weren’t done. The curve of her hips. Her muscled calf. Behind her knee. His touch slid along her skin as he shifted between her thighs.

  His gaze locked with hers as he eased slowly inside. Her lips parted and her nails bit into his back. Her heat engulfed him, tightly encasing him deep inside. It was incredible. She was incredible. He moved slowly, absorbing each shift and shudder of her body.

  She tugged his head down, her soft smile tugging at his heart, before she kissed him.

  Try as he might to keep things slow and steady, everything about her challenged that. Her scent, the kneading of her fingers on his back, the soft moans she made in her throat. And when she arched into him, Toben gave up. Need took over. His movements grew frenzied, each thrust deeper, harder, more driven. She clung to him, her moans hoarse and broken—pushing him to the edge.

  His hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple, his lips latching on until she fell apart. She cried out, long and hard. And her release sent him over the edge, his climax so hard he buried his face against her chest and moaned with its power.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Poppy was panting, her fingers still tangled in Toben’s curls. He lay on top of her, his arms propping him over her, his head resting on her chest. She’d done what she swore she wouldn’t do... And, right now, she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Her body hummed, still processing all sorts of amazing little twinges and aftershocks.

  “You okay?” he asked. “I’m not sure I can move.”

  She laughed. “I’m good.”

  He lifted his head to look at her. “Glad to hear it.” He stared at her, his hand smoothing her long hair from her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman, Poppy White.”

  She smiled. “I guess I should feel flattered—considering how many women you’ve...known.”

  His smile faded, a
little. “You’re different.”

  She shook her head, determined to shut him down before her emotions could get just as out of control as her body. “You don’t have to say pretty things to me, Toben. I don’t expect—”

  “Maybe I want to.” He frowned. “I can’t pretend my past didn’t happen. I can say this, you and me, is different. And when I say you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, I mean it. Okay?”

  His eyes searched hers, a hint of anxiety on his handsome face. He wanted her to believe him. But could she? Her heart was banging, so damn happy she couldn’t help but panic. “Okay,” she whispered.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up and he relaxed.

  “What does different mean?” she asked, her hands sliding from his shoulders.

  He shook his head and rolled off her, then plumped up the pillows and lay back, one arm tucked beneath his head.

  “You brought it up.” She rolled onto her stomach at his side, immediately distracted by his rock-hard body—on display and invitingly touchable. “You told Rowdy he could ask you anything.”

  He cocked a brow at her. “One, you’re not Rowdy. Two, he’d never ask me about my screwed-up personal life.”

  “You’re not happy? You seemed to enjoy the hell out of it. New bed, new gal, new...adventures.” She couldn’t imagine. Taking a man to bed was too intimate a thing to do so carelessly. Since Rowdy had been conceived, only Mitchell had shared her bed. And then it was to sleep, nothing more.

  He lifted a long curl from her shoulder, twining it around his fingers as his gaze traveled over her bare shoulder. “So you’re asking if I’m happy?”

  She grinned. He really didn’t want to talk about it. “Are you?”

  “I don’t think I could be happier than I am right now.” His blue gaze met hers.

  She swallowed.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said, nodding. “I get it. But I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here, a family, for you both. I’m hoping I can prove I’m a different man. A better man than I was.”

  She rested her chin on her folded arms, watching him. He turned onto his side, his fingers running along her back and buttock, exploring her body with slow, gentle strokes. It was mesmerizing, easing her into a state of sensation.

  His words repeated, over and over, until she accepted the truth. She wanted this; she wanted him to prove he was trustworthy. She wanted him. Not just for dinners and the occasional fireworks in her bedroom. But here, with her and Rowdy, every night—a real family bound by love and commitment. It was asking too much of him, she knew. She’d never seen evidence of commitment or love from the man, until now. If she were smart, she’d guard her heart and accept what she wanted could never happen. Still, she whispered, “What does that mean, Toben? A family?”

  His hand stopped, resting on the base of her lower back. His breath powered from his chest, unsteady and harsh. “You, me and Rowdy.”

  She tried to sit up, but his arm snaked around her waist and tugged her against him.

  “Don’t start putting space between us now,” he said.

  She stared at his chest, willing her heart rate down.

  “Poppy?” he whispered. “Look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Please,” he tried again.

  It was a mistake. He was too damn mesmerizing, too intense. In his smile, she saw all the reasons she should run the other way. Passion, strength, charm—things that could hurt her in the end. Her hand rested on his chest, the racing of his heart pounding against her palm. That he couldn’t fake. That was real. Even if she didn’t know exactly what it meant.

  “You know I love Rowdy?” he asked.

  She nodded. Without a doubt.

  “But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I love you.” His fingers combed through her hair, his gaze traveling over her face. “Not yet. Not till I’ve shown you.” His jaw tightened, pure resolve on his face. “And I will show you. Every day.”

  She swallowed. His words painted a pretty picture, one that made her ache. But...

  “It’s going to take time. Time, I’ve got.” He smiled at her, tugging her close to press a kiss to her forehead. She relaxed, loving the way his hand smoothed down her back, the way he buried his nose in her hair to breathe her in. Like she was his—like he wanted her to be his.

  “You staying?” she asked.

  “Is that an invitation?” he asked.

  “It’s awful late to be driving home,” she murmured, doing her best to avoid the question.

  “Not really. I’ll stay if you want me to.”

  She looked up at him. “Rowdy would want you to.”

  His grin was lethal. “That’s a low blow, Miss White. Using our son like that.” He tilted her head up. “Can’t say it?”

  She shot him a look.

  He nodded. “Then I’ll go.” His grin faded. “I don’t want to push this on you.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, leaving Poppy frantic.

  She tugged her quilt up. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay. Dammit, she needed him to stay. If he stayed, she couldn’t talk herself into doubting him all over again. He stood, sliding his jeans up.

  She grabbed the denim. “Stay, Toben.”

  He looked at her, the hurt on his face completely unexpected. She rose onto her knees, touching his cheek. His hand covered hers and he pressed a kiss to her palm.

  “I want you to stay,” she managed, even though her voice was wobbly and breathless.

  He stared at her, his grin returning. “That hurt, didn’t it?”

  She sat back, blowing out a deep breath, and nodded.

  He chuckled, dropping his jeans and climbing onto the bed. His arms wrapped around her, tugging her against his side. “Come here, Poppy.” He kissed her temple and held her close, the beat of his heart beneath her palm.

  * * *

  WEDNESDAY WAS A good day. He made pancakes on the griddle for Poppy and Rowdy, ate with them and left with a smile on his face. At six that evening, he got a text from his son, telling him there was fried chicken ready and waiting. He showered, packed a bag and headed to Poppy’s.

  Thursday morning, he rolled over to an empty bed and sat up, his heart in his throat. When she came in with a cup of coffee for him, he put it on the bedside table and pulled her to him. He kissed her with everything he had.

  They had scrambled eggs and bacon, some toast and a lot of laughs before he made the drive to Boone Ranch. At five he offered to bring some pizzas out. They played cards and talked about painting Rowdy’s room before bed. Then he loved Poppy long and hard into the early morning hours. She was sleeping when he headed out Friday morning. He left a plate of cinnamon rolls he’d picked up from Carl and Lola’s on his way there the day before.

  Driving to the ranch, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Damn lucky. He was a smiling fool and he liked it.

  “You’re getting annoying.” Deacon sighed when Toben walked into the ranch headquarters. “Good thing I’m hitting the road.”

  “If I was my usual self, you’d stay on longer?” Toben asked, knowing the truth.

  Deacon grinned, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s time.”

  Toben nodded. “Where are you headed?”

  Deacon shrugged. “Might head to my dad’s. Might not.” He laughed.

  Toben nodded. Deacon’s dad was the exact opposite of Teddy Boone. Where Teddy was supportive and loving, Woodrow Boone was loud, overbearing and best taken in small doses. He and Deacon had never seen eye to eye. After Deacon lost his family, Uncle Woodrow’s answer had been for Deacon to move on and remarry quickly. But Deacon had loved his wife and kids and resented his father’s callous dismissal of his grief.

  Thinking about losing Rowdy and Poppy...Toben couldn’t imag
ine it. It hurt too much to consider.

  “Might head to New Mexico to Roger’s place for a bit. Or out to California now that Chris has that new spread.” Deacon shrugged. “Might just drive for a bit.”

  “When you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow,” Deacon answered. “Head out before the holiday crowds start pouring in. Figured I’d finish up some things around here so Archer can’t complain.”

  “He’s going to do that no matter what.” Toben laughed.

  “Speaking of Archer, he wants to see you,” Deacon said.

  Even a summons from his cousin wouldn’t get to him today. “Okay. The family know you’re going?”

  Deacon shrugged. “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  Toben nodded and climbed into his truck. He drove the short distance between the ranch headquarters and the Boone Refuge administrative offices. Archer stood on the porch, talking to two of his wranglers. From the looks on the other men’s faces, Archer was in a mood.

  Toben sighed and climbed the steps of the building.

  “Any questions?” Archer asked the two men.

  They shook their heads, nodded at Toben and left.

  “Morning,” Toben said.

  Archer nodded, watching the two men head to the barn. “New guys. I need you to show them the ropes.”

  Toben couldn’t have been more surprised. “Okay.”

  Archer sighed, leveling him with a hard gaze. “The last few weeks have been...good. You’re working hard, setting a good pace and being an example for the others.”

  Toben could only stare at him.

  “It’s been pointed out that the refuge could benefit from having a foreman. I’m thinking you’re it,” Archer finished, his hands on his hips.

  Toben continued to stare, speechless. Where the hell had this come from?

  “You’ll be on the road now and then, but you won’t be away from your family too long. You know the job, this place, like the back of your hand.” Archer nodded. “That’s it.”

  Toben nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

  With another nod, Archer walked down the steps toward the barn.