How the Cowboy Was Won

by Lori Wilde

  “I’m not.”

  “I know.” He laughed and kissed her again, slipped his hands down to cup her butt and they forgot all about Dawn.

  Before Ember, Ranger thought sex was fun, enjoyable, a pleasant way to pass the time, but nothing in this world compared to making love to his best friend.

  Who knew love could be like this?

  Love. Yes. He was in love with her. If he hadn’t known it before, he surely did now.

  Ranger kissed her soft and slow. He’d waited a long time for Ember. He was damn well going to enjoy every second.

  She squirmed in his lap, things heating up rapidly. She laced her fingers through his hair, covered his face in kisses. He grinned at her enthusiasm, the rapt expression in her eyes. Her hot little hands were all over his skin—sliding, caressing, kneading him in places that felt so good he groaned aloud.

  Her tongue seemed to be everywhere at once—his lips, his throat, his belly button. His body throbbed and vibrated, alive with their combined energies. His temperature clicked from hot to cold and back again in rapid succession. Shivers and sweats. Like a pendulum swinging back and forth between extremes, sweeping him along on a current of sensation.

  She delighted him in ways he had not ever been delighted. He tasted her, touched her, smelled her—lips, teeth, nose, tongue. Gliding over her body, those creamy breasts, her flat belly, her vibrant triangle of red.

  Ember was on her back on the couch, and he was on the floor on his knees, her legs thrown over his shoulders. Moonlight shimmering over her bare skin, illuminating her like pixie dust. The moon had always fascinated him. Its pull on the tides. Its feminine mystique. And she embodied those moon qualities.

  He stopped breathing. Spellbound.

  Ranger wanted one thing. To please her. Whatever she desired, he would stop at nothing to give to her. He pressed his lips to that gorgeous red triangle, breathed in her essence. Her scent was spicy and exciting. Her skin, silky and smooth. Her taste on his lips, richly female.

  She whispered his name, a prayer in the night, letting him know he was on the right track. He wanted to be her hero. Whatever she needed, he could provide. He would rocket her to the stars. Give her a light show unlike anything she’d ever seen.

  His mouth found the most delicate part of her and Ember threw back her head, let out a strangled moan.

  A wordless joy mushroomed inside him, growing like a thick Bavarian forest after long soaking rains. He was so grateful to be here. So happy to please her in this most intimate of ways.

  Her whimpers guided him. He listened for every muffled sigh, every quick-caught gasp. She smelled of brine and bliss, her skin a hot, silken road. He navigated each buck and wiggle as he tamed his wild, red-haired pony.

  She yielded to his tongue, giving him the reins, letting go of control. He recognized it as the gift it was. Ember trusted him completely. His pride shone like a polished medal.

  He loved her as much as he loved the stars. The sky, and all that it encompassed, had been the salvation of a sick, lonely kid, and so had Ember. She’d always been his champion, his heroine, his best friend.

  She tasted like stardust, otherworldly and surreal, spectacular and spacey, eternal and abiding. He could always count on her to be there.

  As he savored her, Ranger thought happily—comet, eclipse, binary star, gibbous, ephemeris. In his head, he married the two things he loved most, astronomy and Ember. Her flavor taunted him, haunted him.

  His erection grew, but he ignored his needs, focused solely on her. This was her playground. Her turn. For right now, only she mattered.

  He closed his eyes, saw a shower of meteors and a trillion light-years stretching out before them. Felt every atom, and every cell vibrating. The cosmos was inside them and they were the cosmos. In between her soft moans and his own heavy breathing, he heard the sacred silence of space, endless and all encompassing. Tying them together with all there ever was and all there ever would be.

  Through loving her body, he drank the history of the universe. The Big Bang of creation. The birth and death of galaxies. Swallowed radio bursts of pulsars, got swept up in those furiously rotating neutrons. Flared with the force of five hundred million suns. Tingled like a supernova. She moaned his name and shuddered against him, clutched his hair in her hands, called his name again and again and again.

  He groaned, clung to her, inhaled her, breathed in her sexy feminine scent, let it fill his lungs, and nourish him with her essence. He tightened his arms around her as she burst in a blaze of quivering gasps, his beautiful woman, his shooting star.

  Ranger was ridiculously overjoyed. Making love to Ember was making love to the universe, and with her in his arms, he felt as if he had finally found his home.

  Chapter 21

  “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

  —Jane Austen, Emma

  Dawn—the sunrise, not the Kiwi astronomer—was peeping through the window, shining a wan stream of pinky-orange light over Ranger and Ember as they lay, arms and legs entangled, on her bed, Samantha curled up at the foot of the mattress.

  Ranger’s bare chest was level with Ember’s face. Fascinated, she watched that muscular chest rise and fall with his low, deep breathing. She snuggled closer, smiled dreamily. She had known this man all her life and now he was her life.

  Wow, okay. That sounded like something her sister Kaia would say, not fiery, independent Ember. What about real estate agent Ember? Movie director Ember? Matchmaker Ember? The sides of her that didn’t need a man to have an identity.

  Right. She didn’t need a man, but she wanted one. She wanted this one.

  Forever and ever until the end of time.

  “What are you thinking?” Ranger asked, and lazily drew a heart in the flat place between her breasts.

  “You. Me. Us. The end of time.”

  “I like the way you think.” He propped himself up on his elbow, leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

  A satisfying hum skimmed from her nose to her brain, singing that now-familiar soul mate song.

  “Could I ask you a question?” He caressed her hair.

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

  “For you? I’ll answer anything.”

  “I know.” There was a sweet smile in his voice. “But you don’t have to.”

  “Just ask the question, Lockhart.”

  “Why did you marry Trey?”

  “Truth?”

  “No, lie to me.”

  She playfully punched his arm. “You were with Tonya, and it was looking like you were going to get married and you were just starting your second PhD and you didn’t have time for marriage, for me, and everything . . .”

  “I will always have time for you.” His tone turned fierce, and he reached over to squeeze her hand.

  “I know,” she said. “That’s why I couldn’t get in the way of you and Tonya. She was good for you. I thought you two had a chance.”

  “So you thought, ‘hey, let me take up with the biggest asshole I can find’?”

  She shook her head, glanced away. “Never mind.”

  He reached out, cupped her chin in his palm, drew her face back to his. “Ember.” He paused a beat. His gaze held hers, strong as a bear trap. He wasn’t letting her off the hook.

  “I picked him because he was the opposite of you, okay?”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I picked someone just like you, it was as if I was marrying a pale imitation of the real thing. Like buying a print because you can’t afford a work of art.”

  “Hmm. I guess that makes an odd kind of sense.”

  She stared into his eyes. “You think so?”

  His nose crinkled. “Hell no. It makes no sense at all.”

  “Well, of course not to you. You’ve never let your emotions rule your head.”

  “I wouldn’t say never.”

  “Please. There’s a reason you’re the
best poker player in the Trans-Pecos. You learned a long time ago how to shut down your emotions and not feel a thing. I blame your asshat mother.”

  “I don’t, why should you? Sabrina did what she had to do to survive.”

  “She sold her kid for money.”

  “That’s harsh. It wasn’t like that. It—”

  “It was exactly like that.” Ember folded her arms across her chest.

  “Look, she did what she did. I can’t change it.”

  “And I did what I did. I screwed up and married Trey. I can’t change it either.”

  “I don’t blame you for marrying him any more than I blame Sabrina for leaving. We’re all human. We all screw up. Blaming doesn’t change things, it only creates unhappy feelings.”

  He had a point. He kissed her, and she hummed and they luxuriated in the sexy feeling of being in each other’s arms.

  “You know what I was thinking about?” he asked a few minutes later.

  “The existence of life elsewhere in the universe?”

  He inclined his head. “For once, no. I’m thinking eggs over easy.”

  “You cooking?”

  “God, yes. You can’t boil water without burning it.”

  “Haha. For all you know I learned how to cook while you were in New Zealand. A year is a long time.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “So, eggs?”

  “That would be great except you’d have to go to the store. I’ve been so busy with directing the film I haven’t had a chance to go shopping.”

  “Whatcha got?”

  “I think there might be some slightly stale pretzels in the top of the pantry.”

  “Breakfast at Eggs and More?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “Ugh, that means we have to get dressed. It was my plan to spend all day in bed making love to you.”

  “I do have cat food if you’re feeling adventuresome.”

  “I’ll pass on the Fancy Feast.”

  “You know,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, “food is overrated.”

  “There is science to back up intermittent fasting.” He kissed her, his mouth warm against hers.

  Samantha woke up, stretched, and meowed for her breakfast. She was having no part of intermittent fasting.

  “I’ll just open a can of food for her and be right back.” Ember slid off the bed and pranced naked into the kitchen, Samantha following right behind her. She knew good and well that Ranger was watching her walk away.

  She wriggled her butt for his benefit.

  He applauded. Loudly.

  Grinning, she fed the tabby, went to the bathroom where she grabbed a box of condoms she’d bought right after her divorce but had never opened, and headed back to the bedroom.

  Ranger was lying on his side, giving her the full monty, letting her see for herself that he was more than up for using the condoms in her hand.

  “Great minds think alike.” He crooked his finger in a sexy “c’mere” gesture.

  And she went, springing onto the bed and into his arms.

  They were just heating up the sheets when his cell phone, which was sitting on the dresser across the room, buzzed.

  “You’re getting a call,” she said.

  “Ignore it.”

  “What if it’s family?”

  “They’ll call back.”

  Second buzz.

  “What if it’s an emergency?”

  “You’re the only emergency that matters,” he said, and nuzzled her neck, nibbled her skin.

  “You say that now . . . ooh, what are you doing?”

  Third buzz.

  “You like that?” he murmured in her ear.

  “Mmm.”

  Voice mail picked up the phone call.

  It was Dawn—the Kiwi astronomer, not the sunrise—and her voice came splashing into the room as welcome as an ice-water bath. “Ranger, are you there? Pick up! Pick up!”

  Silence deafened the room for a nanosecond.

  “You wanna answer?” Ember asked.

  “Why?” He ran his tongue along the outside of her ear.

  She shivered against him. “She sounds excited.”

  “You are excited.” Lightly he pinched one of her puckered nipples.

  “Ranger?” Dawn’s voice again, pleading from the cell phone. “Call me as soon as you can. I’m at the observatory and I’ve made a breakthrough. I think I’ve found a way to prove what FRBs really are!”

  He jerked his head up, dropped his hand, bulleted it out of bed, and snagged up the phone. “Dawn, I’m here, I’m here. What did you find out? Tell me everything.”

  Leaving Ember naked, horny, shivering from the loss of his body heat, and feeling like an old shoe tossed aside on the trash heap.

  Ranger’s loyalties were torn right in two.

  On one hand, he had his beloved Ember lying naked and sexy as hell, waiting for him in bed, and on the other hand, he had Dawn on the phone telling him she’d made a breakthrough in their research project exploring fast radio bursts, one of the most perplexing mysteries in astronomy.

  If Dawn was correct, not only would the discovery make both their careers, he could cherry-pick any job he wanted—no having to raise funds to please a board of directors—because it could potentially solve the enigma that had been plaguing astronomers since 2007 when a five-millisecond radio burst showed up from an unknown source billions of light-years away.

  He and Dawn would be legendary in the annals of astronomy.

  “I’ll be right there,” he told Dawn.

  Turning to Ember, he saw the light go out of her eyes, and his stomach fell right to the floor. Talk about horrible timing. Dawn’s call coming right when he and Ember had finally hooked up after years of waltzing around each other. This was a tender time he should be nourishing, cherishing.

  But Dawn had made a breakthrough on one of the biggest astronomical puzzles out there.

  He tried to explain it to Ember, going into detail about what a big deal this was. He talked fast as he dressed, jamming his legs into his jeans, feeling the excitement pump through his veins. He tried to temper his thrill for Ember’s sake, but he just couldn’t do it. He’d lived and breathed this stuff for over a decade. His life’s work had culminated into this moment.

  If Dawn was right.

  “Astronomers are not sure what causes fast radio bursts,” he said, zipping up his jeans and searching for his shirt.

  “Um . . . okay.”

  He could tell she didn’t understand. “FRBs are powerful but very short radio waves that last no more than a millisecond. They’ve only been observed by astronomers twenty-five times to date.”

  Ember frowned. “Are you saying that you have discovered life-forms elsewhere in the universe?”

  “That’s one theory, yeah, but there are many theories. It could be a neutron star with a very powerful magnetic field—surrounded by debris from a stellar explosion. Or jets of material shooting out from the rim of a supermassive black hole. Dawn thinks she’s found the answer.”

  “Which is?” Ember held her breath.

  “I can’t say. Not yet. Not until I’ve seen her evidence, not until we’re ready to go public.”

  Ember sprang to her knees in the middle of the mattress. “This is huge! Oh my gosh, Ranger, I got goose bumps. This is everything you’ve worked for.”

  “I know!” He was lit up from the inside, on fire with possibilities. He stepped toward the bathroom, stopped, spun around, came back, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her so hard neither one of them could breathe. “Thank you, thank you for being so understanding.”

  “Why of course.” Her dear face was a wreath of smiles. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, hell the whole universe. All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness. Astronomy makes you happy. Go, go.” She made shooing motions. “Don’t feel like you need to hurry back to me. Keep your mind where it belongs. On your work.”

  “That�
��s going to be pretty hard to do.” He hissed in a breath through clenched teeth. “When the image of how you look right now keeps popping into my brain.”

  “Get out of here.” She splayed a palm on his chest and pushed him away. “I’ll be here whenever you get back, no matter how long it takes.”

  “You are the best girlfriend in the whole damn world. How did I get so lucky?”

  “Because you’re amazing. Now go, find out if E.T. has been trying to phone home.”

  And with that, she pushed him out the door.

  With all her heart, Ember was happy for Ranger. She didn’t resent him leaving their bed to go running up to the observatory to stare through a telescope with Dawn, or whatever it was they were doing.

  Honestly, she’d barely understood a word Ranger had said. It made her feel dumb as a fence post. She’d always known he was a brainy guy, and she tried her best to keep up with all the science-y stuff when he patiently tried to explain it, but astronomy just wasn’t her thing. Oh, sure she liked looking at the stars with him, but he was doing that just to indulge her. His mind was light-years beyond hers.

  To keep from dwelling on her inadequacies, she took herself to breakfast at Eggs and More. She settled into a booth with Belgian waffles and six strips of bacon. Don’t judge. Her boyfriend had just left her bed to go frolicking with his research partner; she was entitled to bacon and waffles if it cheered her up.

  It was still early, not quite seven, and the diner was gearing up with customers. The bell over the door jangled, and Ember glanced up to see Fiona stroll in with Palmer. They were looking mighty cozy, walking arm in arm, as if they’d just spent the night together.

  So much for her matchmaking skills. She’d tried her best to keep those two apart and look at them. Their faces were sunbeams.

  The last thing she wanted was to bathe in their afterglow, when her own afterglow had been cut tragically short.

  Okay, not tragically, that was just feeling sorry for herself. She caught the server’s eye, made doggie-bag motions over her plate, kept her head ducked down, and prayed Fiona and Palmer didn’t see her.

  She needn’t have worried. They had eyes only for each other, and by the time the server wrapped up her food in a to-go bag, Ember had completely lost her appetite.