Accidental Cowgirl

by Maggie McGinnis

  “Don’t tempt me.” He dragged the door closed, then pointed down the line of stalls.

  Kyla followed him to the far end of the small barn, where an enormous gray head poked over the stall. “Good Lord, he’s huge.”

  “Thus the name. He was Dad’s favorite horse.” Good thing Decker liked the horse a hell of a lot better than he’d liked his father. He reached up to pet Apollo’s nose. “How you doing, old boy? Feeling better?” He opened the stall door and stepped into the sawdust inside. He ran his hands over Apollo’s belly, nodding as he went. “Much better. Yesterday his ears were laid back so flat he looked like a demon-horse.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Colic’s nasty business. We’ve lost horses to it. Most of the time it turns out fine, but things can go downhill really fast.” He patted Apollo’s neck once more. “But this old guy looks like he’s on the mend. I just need to keep an eye on him through the night.”

  “So what do you do? Come back every couple of hours?”

  “Nah. I just stay down here. It’s easier.” Kyla looked around, but didn’t see any obvious snoozing spot. Decker chuckled. “Wondering where I sleep?”

  She felt her cheeks heat up. “Kind of, yes.”

  Decker pointed to a huge pile of hay bales in the other corner. “Sounds cliché, but hay and blankets. Surprisingly comfortable.”

  “I remember.” Kyla smiled as she thought of her grandparents’ hayloft, and all the hours she’d spent reading on a patchwork quilt in a sunny, crackly corner. The barn kittens had always snuggled up with her, purring and kneading their claws. Since she had never been allowed to have a pet, it was just one more thing that had made Gramps and Gramma’s farm a slice of heaven for her.

  “You’ve slept in a barn?”

  “Not intentionally. I fell asleep playing hide-and-seek once when I was a kid … at my grandparents’ farm. My poor grandma called the police department because they’d been looking for me for over an hour. When I jumped down the hay chute, I think I just about gave the police captain a heart attack. I’m pretty sure I spent the rest of the week tied to the porch.”

  Kyla saw Decker’s eyes cloud for the briefest moment before he blinked hard and looked down at his watch. “You’re really not even remotely tired, are you?”

  “I’m so beyond tired that I exist in a constant state of exhaustion … covered up by a frightening cocoa addiction.”

  “Got it.” He motioned toward the hay bales in the corner of the barn. “Well, if you’re not going to sleep anyway, come keep me company.” Kyla’s tummy flipped as she cycled through the possibilities that suggestion engendered. Oh, the ways by which she’d love to keep him company.

  She knew she shouldn’t follow him to the dimly lit corner. Shouldn’t allow herself to let her guard down in this heavenly spot where the sights and sounds and smells brought her back to the best part of her childhood. It was too surreal, too perfect. It couldn’t be real.

  He spread out a few buffalo-plaid blankets, then sat down and patted the hay bale beside him. “C’mere, Snow White. Help me stay awake.”

  Chapter 19

  Decker wasn’t sure whether he was more afraid she’d sit down, or more afraid she’d head back to her cabin. She’d pushed him away last night, but he’d heard the quiver in her voice, and already he was working hard to keep his hands from straying to her waist, her hair, her face. If she got any closer, he’d be in serious trouble.

  For both of their sakes, he knew he should keep things light and friendly tonight. He’d already spooked her once, and she was right. There was no future here.

  He saw her weighing both options, and finally, with a what-the-hell shrug, she sat down, but shuffled subtly so their thighs couldn’t touch. “Okay, I’ll stay for a while. But only because I feel guilty that you have to stay awake with Apollo. And because it’s better than sitting on the porch all night while everybody else is asleep.”

  He leaned back against the hay bale behind them, folding his hands behind his head. Message received. Hands off. No problem. “So. Has Kismet cured your fear of horses yet?”

  “Cured would probably be a strong word.” Kyla smiled as she leaned carefully back next to him. “But I’m sure a lot closer than I was a week ago.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I haven’t even fallen off once since the second day. That’s progress, right?”

  “Definitely. But I should warn you. If you spend much more time here, you might actually like riding again.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  He winked. “You might even get to like cowboys.”

  “Definitely dangerous. No worries, though. I prefer my men … clean-shaven, preppy, dressed to the nines.” She looked him up and down. “Cowboys are a little scruffy for my taste.” Right.

  “Really.”

  “Yup. All that dirt and dust and five-o’clock shadow? Flies well in novels, I guess. But really? It’s just not that attractive.”

  “Really.”

  She nodded, and he could tell she was doing her damnedest to keep her lips from creeping into a smile.

  “I apologize, then, that you’re being forced to spend your vacation with such a homely lot.”

  “It’s a struggle, but I figure we’ve only got a week left. I’ll manage.”

  Decker laughed. “You’re a piece of work, Snow White.”

  “I imagine it goes both ways, though. You obviously find a certain type attractive.”

  “Do I really?” He couldn’t wait to see what she’d say next. Just what type did she think he was attracted to?

  “Yup. I’m going to guess blond, five-seven-ish, skinny, and …” She put her hands near her chest like she was carrying bowling balls. “… built.”

  Christ. Marcy. “Are you describing anyone in particular here?”

  “Oh, definitely not. It’s just a vibe I’m picking up on. Sort of a Malibu Barbie thing.”

  “Malibu Barbie?” He laughed again. Yep, that was a pretty apt description for Marcy, actually. Along with half the women he’d dated back in L.A. He looked at her carefully and sighed. “This wouldn’t, by any chance, be Marcy you’re describing, would it?”

  Kyla put her hand to her chest. “Marcy? Nooo.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m not attracted to Marcy, Kyla.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m really not.”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re not convinced.”

  “Nope. The woman almost gave me a shiner, Decker. Clearly you’ve got some unfinished business there.” He could almost hear or current business, buddy in her tone.

  Decker turned toward Kyla and reached out his right hand to brush her hair off her forehead. He could feel her fighting the urge to turn into his hand as he stroked her jaw with his fingers. “Kyla, Marcy has one goal in this world, and that is to marry rich. For a while, she thought I was the answer to that goal. Then she found out … I’m not … and she flew the coop with someone who really was rich. He dumped her, and now she’s back.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Far from it. She found out I was back, and since then has made it her mission to slither back into my life. But there’s nothing between us. Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, back? I thought you were a born-n-bred Montana boy?”

  Decker sighed. Shit. He didn’t want to break his promise to Ma, but Marcy had forced things to a personal level, and he needed to be honest. “Kyla, I don’t actually live here full-time. Haven’t in a long while.”

  Kyla shifted away from him and narrowed her eyes. “Where, then, do you really live?”

  “L.A.”

  Her chin dropped as her eyebrows went upward. “Oh. Wow.”

  “I went to college out west. I have a firm out in L.A. that designs high-end homes. It’s a love/hate thing. Money’s great, clients are hell. When Dad died this spring, Ma asked if I’d consider coming back for the summer, just to help her and Cole get thi
s place back on its feet.”

  “So you left the riches of Hollywood and came back to play cowboy?”

  He looked sidelong at her. “I guess that’s one way to put it, yes.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know. We didn’t put that in the brochure, either.”

  “Nooo, you didn’t. Wow.”

  “You could stop saying wow at any point here.” She looked flustered. Shit. This wasn’t going well. Now she was going to be really pissed that he’d kissed her last night. He knew she already thought he’d been lying about Marcy, and now here he was fessing up that the whole cowboy shtick was a ruse.

  “So … you’re single, but I almost got slapped for dancing with you last night. And … you’re a cowboy … but you’re not.” Kyla pursed her lips. “Is Ma really your mother, I wonder?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Sorry. It’s kind of a lot to process. I’m a little surprised, that’s all.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. Especially about Marcy. I promise you, she pulled that little act at Salty’s for your benefit only.”

  “I feel so special.”

  Decker curled his hands into fists, desperate to touch her, but doing his damnedest not to. He practically ached to pull her toward him and kiss her until morning, but he made himself hold back. “So don’t you want to really know my type?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You’ll just feed me a line, tell me you go crazy for bland brown hair and matching eyes, tiny chests, and major baggage.”

  “And then you’d melt with gratitude and let me do anything I want?”

  “Oh, absolutely. Because every woman wants to hear a man say she’s exactly what he’s been looking for. And mean it, of course.” She picked up a piece of hay, rolling it between her fingers. “That’s the hard part, though—the meaning it. Soft blankets, hay, the whole ranch thing? Definite turn-on. You’ve really got a ready-made love shack here. And maybe it’s worked before. But I’m too smart for that. Been there, done that, not twenty years old anymore.”

  “Are you done?” He fought to keep a smile from his lips as he listened to her. Good God, there was no way he was letting her out of this barn tonight, not until she believed he was for real. He didn’t have any delusion that there was any future here for them, but damn, he had to at least explore the possibilities.

  He’d been fighting his attraction to her since that day on the highway, and he should have been successful in banishing it by now. He should be ready to flirt casually, head out on the trail tomorrow, say a quick good-bye next weekend, and never think of her again. But it wasn’t working.

  “Nope. I’m not done.” She smiled. “I know you. I know your type. I know all the words you’ll use to convince me you’re different, but it won’t work.”

  “You smell like apple pie.”

  Her mouth opened in a quick laugh. “What?!”

  “I said you smell like apple pie.” He leaned in closer, tracing her hair around her ear. “Whenever I’m near you, I swear to God I get hungry.” She elbowed him. “Not hungry like that. Well, yes, definitely hungry like that. But that’s not what I meant.” He took a chance and planted a soft kiss behind her ear. “You smell like apples.” Another kiss. “And cinnamon.” Another kiss. “You smell completely edible, Kyla.”

  He reached out to pull her closer, and to his relief, she didn’t resist. He kissed her neck softly, breathing in the gorgeous scent that was her alone, tasting her sweet skin with his lips. He kept his hands in her hair, on her back, on her face, tracing the lines of her body slowly, surely. “You haunt me, Kyla. Your voice has tormented me from the first time we met. Your eyes remind me of melted dark chocolate, and your hair. God, I am dying to see it fanning down over me.”

  Kyla made one of those quiet little purring sounds she’d made on the dance floor Friday night as she inched closer to him. He was determined not to take this further than kissing, didn’t want to scare her off, but Jesus, he wanted her. Wanted to peel off every strip of clothing she wore, wanted to explore every inch of her skin with his fingertips, his lips, his tongue.

  He pulled back a few inches, sliding his hand up to cup her jaw. “Do you believe me now, Kyla?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head, the tiniest smile escaping her lips. “I’m still pretty sure you’re a Malibu Barbie type.”

  Decker smiled. “No, I’m really, really not.” He stroked his hand up and down the baby-soft skin on her arm, and he heard her sigh. “I’m picturing more of a Kung Fu Snow White right now.”

  She laughed out loud as he pulled her closer, and he could feel her resistance fading. “Kyla, I know you barely know me, and have no reason to trust me, but I really wish you could. Marcy is a complete fruitcake with no basis in reality. She also has a highly overrated sense of her own significance in my life, and her power to pull my strings.”

  He pulled her chin gently toward him. “I have never, repeat never, even danced with another guest, let alone kissed one. Let alone cuddled with one in the barn in the middle of the night. Please tell me you believe me.” He stroked her jaw and lips with his index finger, dangerously, exceedingly slowly.

  “Not when you do that,” she whispered.

  He stilled his finger. “How about when I do this?” With a soft, sure motion, he lowered his lips to touch hers, moving his fingers through the hair at her temple as he pulled her body closer to his.

  “Definitely not,” she whispered again. “Ask me another one.”

  He groaned, pulling her so close they were practically glued. With his right hand, he pulled her jean-clad leg up over his thigh, stroking steadily, slowly toward her bottom. “This?” he growled.

  “Nope,” she sighed. “Not quite yet.”

  * * *

  Kyla’s heart was tripping along so fast that she worried Decker would hear it and assume she was headed for a stroke. His hand was inching slowly up the outside of her thigh, and she hated the fact that she was dying for it to go higher, faster, but also wanted the exquisite slowness of his hand on her body to last forever.

  This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She was supposed to be pushing him away, protecting herself from another heartbreak. For cripes’ sake, he’d just admitted he wasn’t even a freakin’ cowboy. He designed houses … in L.A. That was a long way from here. And an even longer way from Boston. Even if this was real, even if this flirtation had the potential to outlast the week here, there was no way they’d be able to make it work beyond next weekend. It was a completely lost cause.

  She sighed as his hand reached her buttocks and caressed excruciatingly slowly. Then he groaned softly as he rolled her back on the blanket, supporting her with one arm while he brought the other hand around to her face. His eyes were dark pools in the soft light as he slid his fingers up and down her jawbone.

  “I will stop anytime you want me to, Kyla. I want you to know that.” He closed his eyes and leaned down to touch his lips to hers, soft and inquisitive. Between kisses, he spoke in a whisper. “I will stop. I will. But God, please tell me you don’t want to, because the only thing in the world I want to do right now is make love to you.”

  He stopped, holding her tight, and Kyla could hardly take in a breath as she looked up at him. She was overwhelmed by the intensity, frightened by her own need to have him, all of him, now, now, now. It was nothing she’d ever felt before, and it defied all logic and reason. She knew she should ask him to stop, knew she should run from that stable as fast as her gimpy leg would carry her. No good could come of this.

  She reached up a hand to stroke his jaw, and he leaned into her fingers, then captured her hand with his and planted soft kisses in the palm and down her wrist. “Please let me make love to you, Kyla. Let me love you, let me protect you, let me make you crazy.”

  “God, Decker.” Her body arched toward his as his lips and tongue heated a path down her neck while his fingertips caressed the part of her chest exposed by her shirt. With expertise she didn’t want to dwell on, he unbuttone
d one button, two, three, until he could easily expose her,but instead he stroked his hand up her arm and to her face again, making her ache for his touch.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he kissed her neck. She could feel the cool night air goose-bumping the skin on her stomach as he stroked her hair back from her face. His kisses were hot, his fingers scorched, and she was dying for more. She’d never taken the lead before, never felt the need, never felt the want, but this time, with this man—oh, God—she couldn’t resist.

  Taking his hand in hers, she guided it slowly down her neck and toward the open buttons of her shirt. “Touch me, Decker. Please touch me.”

  He groaned as he pushed open her shirt. “If I do, if I see any more of your delicious body, I’m not going to want to stop, Kyla.” His hand cupped her breast, slid under the fabric to touch a nipple that pebbled instantly. She arched again, wanting more.

  He leaned down to kiss her again. “Are you sure?”

  She cupped his face with both hands. “Decker, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  His hand unclasped her bra, then slid slowly down her stomach. He lowered his mouth to her breast and kissed her, drawing the nipple in and circling it with his tongue until she thought she would cry out in ecstasy. “God, you taste so damn good.”

  His hand reached her waistband, and she held her breath. He slid his hand in an inch. “Do you want me, Kyla?”

  Her body involuntarily rose to meet his hand. “God, yes, Decker.”

  He slid another inch, caressing in circles. “Are you sure?”

  She groaned. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

  His hand slid inside her panties, where she knew he would find her hot and slick. “Oh, Jesus,” he moaned as he stroked and caressed her. He raised his head and captured her lips again. “Kyla, I swear to God, you are not going to regret this.”

  Chapter 20

  Decker looked down at Kyla, smiling as he noted that her eyes were still blissfully closed, her breathing deep. His left arm was completely numb, but he’d be damned if he was going to move it and risk jostling her awake. He’d only known her for a week, but he was pretty sure the six-hour stretch of sleep she’d just enjoyed was the longest one she’d had in a year.