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Cowboy Edition EBook

Page 11

by Maree, Kay


  “Thank you,” I sigh after taking a welcoming sip.

  Smiling, she pats my hand as a gentle smile curves her lips.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not human until I have my coffee either,” she says, turning back to a row of cupboards above the stove and pulling two more cups out.

  Taking another sip, my thoughts skip back to the fact Lucy comes up here all the time.

  Does that mean Nash and Lucy had or have a thing?

  Is that why he was so reluctant to show me around town today?

  The once delicious coffee begins to sit like lead in the pit of my stomach as a feeling of jealousy hits me square in the chest at the thought of Nash already seeing someone.

  Shit, I have no right to feel this way.

  I just met the guy.

  Shaking my head, I try to get rid of those irrational thoughts, but no matter what, they still linger in the back of my mind.

  Lucy is gorgeous, so why wouldn’t Nash take notice? I would if I was a guy.

  She is awesome only a few years younger than me with long black hair and a sassy attitude.

  Oh god, I need to stop dwelling on this, so what if they have a thing? It’s none of my business.

  My fingers flex against my cup as the jealousy I was feeling before multiplies tenfold.

  Damn it.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “I had the best sleep I’ve had in months,” I tell her honestly, smiling thankfully for the change in subject.

  “It’s the air out here,” she winks just as there’s a loud bang at the back of the house, making me jump, spilling a bit of my coffee onto the bench.

  “I'm so sorry,” I rush out, quickly jumping to my feet.

  Quickly making my way around the bench. Snatching up a damp sponge from the sink and the tea towel hanging in front of the oven door, so I can clean up my mess.

  “Don’t stress over a little spill, it's nothing that can’t be cleaned up.”

  June smiles as loud footsteps echo through the room before coming to a complete stop as I'm bending over the large breakfast bench.

  “Fuck,” grinds out behind me sending delicious tingles racing down my spine, my fingers flex squeezing the tea towel into my fist.

  Blowing out a deep breath, I try to relax my muscles as I lock my knees together when they start to sway.

  “Morning son, I made you and your father coffee,” June says.

  I straighten, keeping my back to him as I make my way back over to the sink.

  My fingers reflexively tighten around the sponge and the excess water squeezes out and runs into the sink.

  That deep gravelly voice speaks from behind me and heat begins travelling up my neck again.

  I cringe inwardly, knowing when I turn around he will notice how hard my nipples have gotten or how hot my cheeks are.

  Maybe I can blame it on being cold this morning, but even I know that’s bullshit.

  Blowing out a rough breath, I try to get my bearings back and take control of my stupid body.

  “Thanks, Mum, the old man’s just talking with Brett,” the gruffness of his voice has goosebumps breaking out across my arms, closing my eyes. I keep trying to steady my breathing but it’s no use as I feel the heat from a warm hard body come up behind me.

  Cracking my eyes open just in time to see his large hand brush my arm and the electricity from that simple touch shoots through me.

  It doesn’t help when his warm, minty breath ghosts down the side of my neck and all I want to do is lean into him and soak up his warmth.

  I hear footsteps hit the stairs and I know we are now the only ones in the kitchen.

  “Good morning, Little Mare,” that husky whisper hits my ears and my eyes close automatically.

  “Good morning,” I squeak out.

  A deep gravelly chuckle rumbles through his chest and because he is so close to me I feel it all the way down to my toes as scorching heat curls in the pit of my stomach.

  “Did you sleep well, Little Mare?” That smooth whisper hits my ears like a shot of whiskey.

  It burns through me at first with a delicious bite before turning into a welcoming warmth.

  That feeling becomes a craving and you know you would do anything to feel that way over and over again until everything becomes numb but then reality sets in and you know that feeling and everything surrounding it will turn to shit eventually but even that thought never stops you from taking another shot hoping this time it will bury the pain, humiliation and everything else that’s brought you to drink in the first place.

  I stamp down that need, those wants that quickly turns into an addiction and try to breathe.

  The last thing I need right now is to get drunk on a man that could tear me apart.

  With that last lingering thought, knowing everything I touch eventually turns to shit and turns me inside out.

  I straighten my shoulders, locking down the rapidly growing craving running through me.

  Turning to look up into eyes that could rip me apart all over again and try to speak with as much strength as I can muster.

  “Good,” I swallow, my voice nowhere near normal.

  “I slept good,” I nod swallowing again as a beautiful smile curves his lips and a single dimple makes itself known.

  My tongue automatically slides across my bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to kiss him.

  Then an image of running the tip of my tongue from his dimple down his hard jawline before running across that plump bottom lip has my knees shaking all over again.

  A low growl has my eyes snapping to his grey pools and I suck in a deep breath as his pupils dilate and his teeth bite into said bottom lip.

  “Excuse me please I have to get dressed,” I murmur as I feel his rough but yet still soft touch of his finger slide across my bare shoulder then up the side of my neck before the digit twists around a lock of my hair that’s escaped my bun.

  “So soft,” he murmurs, making me swallow hard.

  That simple touch has image after image play out in my head of a harder, rougher touch in other places.

  “Damn,” pops out of my mouth on a breathy whisper before I can stop it.

  “Bout time you started feeling it,” he growls as he licks his bottom lip again.

  “Feel what?” I whisper at the same time June’s voice cuts in over the top of mine.

  “Cora, I have placed one of my spare work shirts on the bench seat at the end of your bed. Just wear a pair of jeans there’s also a pair of cowboy boots on the floor next to the bench seat as well.”

  “Thank you, I’ll just take a quick shower and be ready in no time,” I say, smiling, not taking my eyes away from Nash as his jaw locks, nose flares at the mention of me taking a shower. Making me smirk.

  I hold back my laughter at finally getting one up on him for the way he just made me feel like a pile of goo on his mother’s kitchen floor.

  “No rush,” June chirps, heading back out of the room not a minute later the back door opens.

  She is probably looking for her husband.

  “As much as I love these pyjamas you better go get ready Little Mare,” he says moving away but not far, just enough so he can lean against the breakfast bench.

  Finally, I can get a good look at him.

  My breath stutters in my chest as he crosses one boot over the other, folding his arms across his massive chest making the worn black shirt he’s wearing stretch at the seams, dark blue denim jeans pull tight against his muscled thighs, the bronze belt buckle with an engraving of a man riding a bucking horse is etched across the shiny surface in silver catches my eye as the overhead light bounces off it.

  My mouth waters at the sight of him.

  Moving my eyes slowly back up his chest I take in the tic in his jaw, the flare of his nose but those sharp stormy eyes are hidden just under the brim of his hat.

  Then he tilts his head a little, my shoulders go back as his ey
es do a slow journey up and down my body just like I did to him but with the way he does it, it’s like he’s shredding my clothes inch by excruciating inch.

  “Go,” that one word is snapped out with so much dominance that I can’t help it.

  My body starts to move before I can even register what the hell just happened and why the hell I listened to him.

  “Asshole,” I grumble as my foot hits the bottom step to head upstairs.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he calls out laughing.

  It's so deep, smooth and delicious I wanna run back downstairs and take another shot of the sexy arrogant man, but this time I wanna spend more time savouring the way the heat from his body wraps around mine.

  No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about him.

  The dirt on his jeans and the slight smear across his cheek just shows he had worked up a sweat before the sun even came up this morning. It just added to the whole appeal of the man, but nothing can stop me dreaming about his eyes.

  There is something so pure about the eyes it’s believed to be the window to the soul and I have never seen eyes like his before. Soft but with an edge that could break you wide open with just a simple blink but when they landed on me It was like he could see every secret I hid.

  Even the ones that are hidden deep down in the very depths of my soul. It was comforting and scary at the same time, then he spoke with that smooth whiskey whisper that seems to vibrate right through me.

  When I first got to the Steel land yesterday afternoon, my nerves were fried from the long journey.

  The temperature outside was scorching hot.

  I was sweating bullets but nothing compared to my first look at Nash Steel leaning a shoulder against one of the log support beams at the front of his parent’s rustic wrap-around porch, arms crossed over a massive chest.

  The beautiful modern log two-story cabin faded into the background and could have been burning down around him and I wouldn’t have noticed.

  Then he made it worse by pulling a red bandana out of his back pocket and wiping what I presume to be sweat from his face and neck. My throat burned from lack of fluids and my mouth was drier than the desert as I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. I had to close my eyes to get my shit together. Without looking back where Nash was standing I unsnapped my seatbelt opening my door at the same time and then that's when everything went ass up. Somehow I managed to get my foot caught in the seatbelt as I went to get out, the next minute I was falling to the ground I put my hands out so as not to face plant the ground.

  Instead, I hit something hard alright, but it wasn’t the ground, it was a wall of muscle. Goosebumps break out across my skin just thinking about his strong calloused hands gripping my arms, his thumbs absently began stroking up and down my skin sending an overwhelming feeling washing over me at the way he held me.

  The stroking stopped faster than I would have liked but it was as if he realised what he was doing.

  Then came the bite of his fingers as they flexed against my hot skin.

  It was such a possessive touch it had my heart picking up speed.

  My breaths started coming in short and choppy as if I just ran a marathon instead of standing stock still surrounded by muscles and the scent of dirt, fresh cut grass and aftershave that made my mouth water.

  My mind was whirling with why I didn't find out where I was staying before getting on that plane. Because who in their right mind doesn’t ask where the hell they are staying?

  Me, that’s who.

  I feel like an idiot.

  Here I thought I would be staying in some sort of hotel or caravan park but nope just my luck I'm staying with my pilot Lou and wife June.

  But nowhere in this fucked up brochure said anything about a rugged sexy cut cowboy next door that so happens to be their son.

  Holy hotness batman.

  Rough calloused hands, a scent that will surely be my undoing, a hard jaw with a day’s growth that had my fingers twitching wanting to run them over the sharp abrasive skin and piercing grey eyes that have a smoky quality to them that I wouldn't mind getting swept away in.

  Because with eyes like that, they surely would resemble a storm brewing if you stared into them long enough.

  A slightly crooked nose telling me it must have been broken a time or two, black messed up hair probably from wearing a cowboy hat all day and don't get me started on his body that's double my size.

  He has to be at least 6'4 like his father!! A breathy sigh leaves my lips, knowing there definitely should have been a warning label attached to this vacation.

  I don't know what to do with these thoughts, these feelings.

  Sophie’s voice repeats on a loop in my mind, telling me to let my crazy self out to play.

  Maybe that's what I need to do, but he barely said anything at dinner last night when his mum asked him to show me around today.

  He seemed reluctant.

  Maybe the small spark in his eyes I had seen earlier in the day when he caught me as I fell from his father’s truck was just the sun bouncing off his pupils instead of interest.

  Maybe I have read too much into this and I need to calm the hell down.

  I can't risk losing myself to another guy, another made-up fairytale that's all in my head.

  But then with what happened this morning in his mum’s kitchen, my head's a complete mess and I don't know what to think. Releasing a heavy sigh, knowing I really need to just concentrate on me for once and maybe take this time away to try and find myself again.

  With that thought running through my head, I know that's exactly what I need to do.

  Nodding to myself I try to concentrate on the music playing from the old jukebox in the corner, grabbing a wet rag I finish wiping down the bar top refilling the peanut bowls and placing new coasters across the polished top pushing all thoughts of Nash Steel, his sexy little dimple and that smooth whiskey whisper to the back of mind.

  It’s the best thing for everyone, and I don’t think I am ready to risk myself again...

  “Jesus, son, you need to get your head in the game, you're off with the bloody sheep today,” Dad barks out, coming to a stop in front of me.

  A heavy sigh leaves me knowing he is right.

  “Nash, you know better than anyone you have to have all your faculties when you are working out in the field.”

  “Shit, don’t you think I know this?” I grumble.

  Removing the saddle off my pure black Friesian Stallion horse named Bandit.

  This breed of horse is very rare in Australia, and they come at a cost, but I have always loved this breed. It took my father and me months to find him, and I have to say Bandit was well worth it.

  “Easy boy,” I mumble, rubbing my hand down his side.

  I'm not sure if I am trying to calm him or me at this point because I have been out of sorts all day. Ever since my Little Mare Cora went scampering up the stairs to have a shower, my focus has been shit.

  Shaking my head, I know that’s bullshit.

  My focus went to shit last night when Mum agreed for Cora to work at the pub today. It's only lunchtime and I have a shit ton of work to get through, but all I want to do is pack it in and get her. Throw her over my shoulder and bring her ass back to the farm, to my house and rope her ass to my bed.

  Through my internal battle my father just stands there staring at me, waiting for me to spill my guts but I don’t know how to explain it to him when I don’t have a clue where these thoughts are coming from.

  Fucking shit.

  I have known her all of a day and rationally I know these thoughts are fucked up but no matter what I do I can’t stop them.

  With every hour that’s passed, I found my mind drifting to her standing in the kitchen. Wearing those fluffy slippers, pink dog print pants and a white singlet shirt that nearly brought me to my knees as her hard nipples strained against the fabric. Wet dreams are made up of her and her mess
ed up hair, but in my dreams sleep didn’t cause it. No, my fucking fingers sliding through the silky strands did.

  “Fuck,” I grunt, heading out of the barn, pulling my Stetson off my head as I go.

  Grabbing my bandanna out of my back pocket, I wipe the sweat from my face as the hot sun beats down on me. Tucking the old bandana back into my pocket and replacing my hat, I stand there just staring out at the open field. A smirk curls my lips watching Yogi chasing the chickens that roam freely around our land.

  A heavy hand hits my shoulder, but I don’t bother turning around.

  “Son.”

  “I know I need to get my head on straight.”

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t what I was going to say,” he shakes his head.

  “I have never seen you this fucked up to the point you nearly came off Bandit,” he chuckles.

  “I wasn’t going to fall; I’m just having a bad day.” I haven’t fallen from a horse since I was a little kid, and I wasn’t about to do it today.

  “It’s not a bad day, Nash, it’s the girl.”

  A low growl rumbles in my chest, making him laugh.

  He has been giving me shit all day, and that hasn’t helped my concentration, and when we were rounding up the cattle he was telling Brett all about my girl and it pissed me the fuck off. As I went to steer Bandit towards the pair of idiots to get them to shut up my foot slipped off the stirrups at the same time, my hand slipped off the reins.

  Thank fuck I have quick reflexes because otherwise, I would have hit the ground.

  “Shit will be a lot better when she heads back to Newcastle,” I grit out between clenched teeth, my heart twisting at the thought, anger simmers just under the skin even just thinking about her leaving here, leaving me and never coming back.

  “Is that what you want?” he prods.

  “I don’t know what the fuck I want,” I lie through my teeth because there are a lot of things I want and every one of them starts with her bent over a hard surface.

  “Don’t bullshit me, son.”

  “I’m…” I stop short of saying ‘I’m not.’

  It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I know my father and he will always call me on my bullshit.

 

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