A Buckhorn Bachelor

by Lori Foster

  It was party his great rapport with kids and his awesome contributions to the community . Adam was a very admirable man.

  But it was also the way he carried himself, with pride and dignity, the way he pitched in to help others, the easy way he smiled.

  Those dark bedroom eyes... She shivered, and admitted to herself that his body was pretty darned fine too.

  But it was mostly his character, she assured herself. Sure he was great to look at, but she wouldn’t love a man for his looks alone.

  Realizing she’d gone too quiet, too long, Isabella stammered, “I, um...Why would you say such a thing?”

  Noel stopped, faced her. “I saw you with him, and I’m not a dummy, either. Amber can play all the games she wants, but in the end, Adam has to know the real you. What it is you want or need, what you care about.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Who you are.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Isabella nodded.

  “So for now, if you want to follow Amber, go ahead. Just don’t play so long that Adam mistakes your sincerity for an amusing pastime.”

  Wow. Who knew Noel was so attentive and discerning?

  Well, obviously Amber did. “She said I couldn’t be easy. That I had to make him work for it.”

  It surprised her when Noel flushed.

  Now wait a minute... Suspicion lifted her brows. “Is that what you’re doin’ to Amber?” When he looked even guiltier, a grin made her cheeks ache. “You are! You’re makin’ her work for it, aren’t you?”

  Noel walked on.

  Delighted, Isabella hustled to catch up to him. “That is so funny.”

  “No it’s not,” he said.

  “But this is great. Amber, caught in a game of her own makin’.” She clapped her hands. “Totally great.”

  Pivoting to face her, Noel opened his mouth, hesitated, and clamped it shut again. “Just think about what I said, okay?”

  “Oh, I definitely will. And thank you.” This time as they started off, Isabella hugged his arm and even put her head on his biceps. A nice, solid biceps, she noticed. “You’re a good man, Noel Poet. Whatever you do to catch Amber, I hope you catch her right and tight.”

  Little by little, Noel smiled and relaxed. “That’s the plan.” They turned the corner and there were three men drinking beers, playing horseshoes, and laughing loudly. One wore a firefighter’s T-shirt, one was an EMT, and the other was Tucker Turley, the sheriff. She knew him well since he’d done plenty of community outreach programs at the school library. Turley was the handsomest of the three, which was saying something since they were all pretty fine. But Isabella knew Amber’s cousin Kady was already sweet on him, and besides, he’d never, not once, looked at her with interest, and vice versa.

  The men hadn’t yet noticed them, and suddenly Isabella wanted to run.

  “Cold feet?” Noel asked.

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Would it be terrible if I just ducked away before they saw me?”

  “No. But I doubt that’d work because Amber will probably bring you right back around to them. You’re already here so you might as well talk a minute, right? No harm in that.”

  Just then Turley said, “Noel, get on over here. We need a fourth to even the teams.”

  “I have a better idea.” Noel gently nudged her forward. “Get Isabella to play.” And with that, Noel-the-traitor abandoned her.

  “She’s on my team,” Turley said fast, drawing her in with a long muscled arm.

  The other two protested, but after quick introductions and a few jokes, they got to playing. To her surprise, she actually had fun. She’d always known she had a competitive streak, but she rarely had time to indulge it.

  After she and Turley won the first game, she tried to excuse herself, but instead she got traded off to the EMT as a “lucky charm,” and dang if she wasn’t on the winning team again.

  That meant the firefighter demanded she join him next, and after three games, three wins, and two beers, she finally got free to return to Adam.

  Unfortunately, Lisa and Gray were now in the corn booth, and Adam was nowhere to be found.

  He hadn’t waited for her.

  Maybe Noel was right and she’d blown her chance.

  Well, damn.

  * * *

  STILL WATERS RUN DEEP. That’s what Amber claimed.

  Issy wasn’t prim or proper, she just respected propriety and knew when to mask her real nature.

  A nature, Amber claimed, that would enable Isabella to use him up and then dump him.

  Amber wanted to introduce her to a bunch of guys that, given a chance, Adam wouldn’t let anywhere near her.

  Hell, she might have met every one of those guys last night.

  She might have taken one of them to her bed.

  A strange red haze filled Adam’s gaze until he shook his head.

  No. He couldn’t believe that.

  In the small fishing boat, he crossed the lake. The family had a variety of boats and he could have used the inboard, the ski boat, or the pontoon. But Issy had a modest house back in the cove and sometimes, especially during the hottest part of summer, the cove got shallow—meaning dangerous to props.

  The fishing boat with the small trolling motor was much better suited for the mossy, narrow passage.

  Yesterday, after stupidly listening to Amber, he hadn’t waited for Issy.

  She wanted to visit other guys? He let her.

  But after a mostly sleepless night he’d faced the morning with regrets. So now, regardless of what Amber had told him, Adam intended to talk to Issy.

  First on the agenda, finding out what she had or hadn’t done.

  While he considered numerous possibilities, sweat trickled down the back of his neck and the sun baked his bare shoulders and chest. Even behind his mirrored sunglasses, he had to squint against the morning sunshine reflecting off the placid surface of the calm lake.

  This early on a Sunday, few boaters were out to disturb the tranquility. Overhead an eagle soared. Along the shore geese honked at him and a flat, lazy water turtle rested over the rocks. Some fish swam alongside the boat while others leaped, making a splash.

  Even with the mosquitoes and heat and the occasional drunk boater, Adam loved spending time on the lake. He could still remember, before his mom and Jordan had married, when Jordan brought them all to visit for the first time. There’d been so many kids and laughing adults. But what had struck him the most was the amount of love. Even as a very young boy, he’d felt it, craved it, and thanks to Jordan marrying his mom and adopting both him and his sister, Lisa, he’d become a part of that amazing family.

  Jordan was a good man, a man Adam enjoyed calling Dad. A man to be respected by all. The day Jordan met his mom was the day Adam’s life had changed—all for the better. Not that his mom hadn’t done all she could. His mom was, and always had been, pretty damned terrific.

  But Jordan had opened up a world of new, easier possibilities, and much of that centered around the atmosphere of the lake.

  Adam could never get on or near the lake without a sense of coming home...for the first time, and forever.

  As he neared the cove, Adam heard talking. Annoyance replaced reminiscing.

  Did Issy have company? There were no close neighbors, so unless she talked with fishermen...

  Or maybe she’d kept an overnight guest.

  The possibility locked his teeth so tightly his jaw ached. Watchful, he continued on, unsure what he might see there on her weathered dock. He followed the curving shoreline, passed the concealing trees and shrubs.

  And his eyes went wide.

  Holy hell.

  Peeling off his sunglasses and leaning forward over the hot metal seat, Adam soaked up the sight of Issy in a tiny blue bikini...halfway up a large tree.r />
  Slim thighs straddled a fat branch. As she stretched forward, the strapless top of her suit looked in imminent danger of exposing her. Even as Adam watched, her hair came undone from some messy topknot and tumbled down around her shoulders.

  The boat knocked into her dock, shaking Adam from his daze. He killed the engine, grabbed for the handle of the ladder that led into the water, and quickly tied off the nose of the boat. “Issy?”

  “Shhh!”

  His gaze swept the area and he realized she must’ve used the picnic table to reach that first branch and from there she’d climbed. She had the long strap of a canvas tote slung over her neck and one shoulder.

  The tree hung over the shore, partial roots exposed to the constantly shifting water line. Taking in the picture Issy made with her bared skin and awkward hold, Adam trod across the dock to the land, asking more quietly, “What are you doing?”

  “Tryin’ to get this poor kitty.”

  Adam got closer, peered up, but he didn’t see a cat.

  He saw Issy. Mostly naked. Her legs were shapelier than he’d known, her breasts fuller. And that sexy belly...

  At the sound of a loud hiss, Adam sucked in a deep breath and forced his gaze away from her body.

  Oh, yeah, there in front of her on the branch was an orange cat. Young. Scrawny. And... “Do I see blood on him?”

  “I think so.” She reached out her hand. “C’mere kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  The cat arched up and hissed again.

  Now with more insistence, Adam said, “Back away from him, Issy. He’s feral. If he attacks, you’re coming out of the tree the hard way.”

  “You think he’d—” Before she could finish the cat raised a paw in warning and gave a low, nearly demonic snarl. “Right. Backin’ up.” She scooted toward the trunk of the tree and looked down. “Know what, Adam?”

  He stared at her thighs and thought about things totally inappropriate to the moment. “What?”

  “Gettin’ up here was probably a whole lot easier than gettin’ down.”

  In her nervousness, her accent sounded thicker.

  Adam cleared his throat; it wasn’t his accent getting thick. “You have a ladder, hon?”

  “In the shed over there.”

  “Don’t move.” With alacrity, he went for the ladder and was back in seconds, propping it against the tree and holding it there.

  Issy stared down at him again. “Why don’t you go do somethin’ else till I’m on solid ground?”

  He grinned. “No. I’m going to hold the ladder steady for you.”

  “But—”

  Voice deeper, he insisted, “It’s not safe, Issy.”

  She looked back at the cat, down at the ground, and started grumbling under her breath. She removed the canvas tote and dropped it—which only unveiled more of her stunning body.

  Using the lower branches to help her, she maneuvered around. When one naked foot came down and felt around for the first ladder rung, it was all Adam could do not to groan.

  Issy had a very sweet behind on her. And that teeny tiny bikini didn’t leave much to the imagination. He’d seen skimpy bikinis plenty of times, just never on her. Maybe that was it, the reason his libido surged into overdrive. Usually Isabella dressed modestly. Very ladylike. Pretty.

  But she never showed so much skin.

  Now that he knew what she hid, how would he ever keep his hands off her?

  Each rung she descended brought that pert rump closer to him. Occasionally she used the branches to help.

  “What if I hadn’t come by?” he thought to ask.

  “I’d have figured out somethin’.”

  With her sweet, lyrical accent, he’d always known she didn’t sound like a stodgy librarian. Now he also knew her figure didn’t match the stereotypical librarian, either. The woman was flat-out smoking hot. “Somethin’,” he said, mimicking her, “like what?”

  She paused, looked up at the tree, then at the lake. “I reckon I could’ve dropped into the water.”

  “Hell of a drop.” When she got close enough, Adam reached for her waist and swung her down the rest of the way. She immediately turned to face him, her chin up so she could see his eyes.

  His hands were still on her naked waist, and he felt the dewiness of her skin, smelled the warmth of her from the hot afternoon sun.

  He drew her closer.

  She came up to her tiptoes...

  Temptation had never looked so good. “Probably not a good idea with a pissed off feral cat in a canvas tote.”

  Confused, a little hazy, she asked, “What’s that?”

  “Your idea, about dropping into the lake?”

  Her eyes almost crossed. “That’s what you were ponderin’?” Giving a frustrated groan, Issy dropped her forehead to his chest. “We’re here doin’ the whole eye thing—or at least I thought we were—and you’re contemplatin’ ways my plan wouldn’t work.”

  “Not really.” Mostly he’d been thinking about saving the cat and then moving on to more rewarding pursuits. Like getting Issy out of that itty-bitty swimsuit.

  “You are the most impossible man.”

  “I’m not the one who was sitting naked in a tree.”

  She lightly punched his side, then braced her hand on him. Then stroked. “I’m not nekkid,” she whispered.

  God, he loved her accent.

  She coasted her open hand to his back, then up his spine. Voice gone husky, she said, “And you’re wearin’ even less than me.”

  She was still close, and he copied her caress, teasing the line of her spine—and making his own voice hoarse. “My bottoms cover a whole lot more.” And good thing, since her nearness had physically affected him.

  Leaning back, she took in his chest and breathed a little faster. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Why?” He tensed, and automatically tightened his hold on her. “You’re expecting company?”

  Quirking a slim brow, she laughed. “Seriously, Adam? Would I look like this for company?”

  His attention went over her again, and he inhaled. Softly he said, “Works for me.”

  She pushed away. “I’m not wearin’ make-up.”

  “I’ve seen you without make-up plenty of times.”

  “No you haven’t. You’ve seen me wearin’ just the right amount of make-up to look like I’m not wearin’ it.”

  Okay, he didn’t understand that. Not at all. Screwing up his face, he said, “Come again?”

  “I wear subtle make-up. You know, enough to make me look prettier.”

  With complete sincerity, he said, “You’re always pretty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Since when?”

  Adam stalled. This was one of those tricky female questions, and he hated tricky questions. “Since...always?”

  “Uh huh.” She crossed her arms, which only further plumped up her breasts. “That’s why every time we get too close, you say somethin’ inane?”

  Giving her a truth, Adam said, “You throw me off my game.”

  “Your game?”

  “With women.”

  “Oookay.” She switched her weight from one foot to the other, as if settling in. “Let’s hear it.”

  Still looking at her hips, he said, “It, what?”

  “How I throw you off.”

  This he could answer, no problem. “You’re different from other women.” How he wanted her was different. How she affected him.

  How she burned him up.

  “I’m waitin’.” She even tapped her bare foot to the ground. “Expound on that, why doncha?”

  “Okay, sure.” This part proved more difficult. “You’re mature.”

  After a three-second blank stare, she lifted the back of her wrist to h
er forehead and slumped against the tree. “My, my, my,” she said, and with her accent it sounded like mah, mah, mah. “Such heated praise. I do believe I might swoon.”

  Adam took his time looking at her body in the blue bikini. It had little pink flowers on it and looked both feminine and somehow vintage. With his gaze on the gentle curve of her belly, then her upper thighs, he stepped closer and murmured, “Let me try again.” He slid a hand to her waist, and inhaled deeply at the silky warmth of her skin. “You’re a smart, independent, confident woman who also happens to be sexy as hell.”

  Her lips lifted in the slightest of smiles. “Much, much better.” She put both hands to his shoulders.

  Good.

  But he needed to know, so as he skimmed his lips over her cheekbone, he asked, “How’d last night go for you?”

  “You left me,” she breathed, her eyes sinking shut. “So it was rather disappointin’.”

  Hope took hold. “No hookups?”

  “After chattin’ with you?” Her gaze locked with his and she chided, “You should know better.”

  Just what he’d wanted to hear. “You were gone so long—”

  “Sheriff Turly roped me into a coupla of games of horseshoes. But I did come back lookin’ for you.”

  “Then I’m sorry I left.” More than ready to taste her, Adam leaned down.

  Isabella came up.

  And the cat dropped behind them with a very annoyed screech.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HOW HAD SHE forgotten about the cat? That poor animal was the reason she’d been caught in a tree in her tiniest bathing suit. “I’m a terrible person,” she murmured as she took the tote bag and slowly knelt to face the cat.

  “No, you’re not,” Adam told her, and then, “Let me.”

  “You as good as your daddy?” Jordan Sommerville was known to whisper a cow to sleep, or talk a dog through labor. The man had an amazing ability with soothing animals.

  “No one is.” Adam came down to one knee beside her. “But I’ve helped Dad plenty of times, so maybe I can manage. It’d help if we had something to feed him.”