by Marin Thomas
“Get me proof, Bravo, and I’ll back you one hundred percent.”
“Yes, sir.” Even if Lucy didn’t come through for him, Tony would find a way onto the Durango Ranch.
“That’s all. Get out of here.”
Tony left the office. He had an hour to kill before Lucy showed up at his mother’s and he planned to use the time to shower and change into a pair of shorts. He kept extra clothes at the trailer because he often crashed in the guest bedroom after pulling all-nighters on the job. Sunset Trails Mobile Home Park was closer to the border patrol station than his single-bedroom apartment on the north side of town.
When Tony arrived at his mother’s, Maria was sitting on the covered porch sipping lemonade. “This is a nice surprise,” she said as he climbed the steps. Today her hug was extra long—she remembered the importance of the date. He returned the hug, conveying without words how much her love meant to him. “Lucy’s coming over—” he glanced at his watch “—in a half hour.”
His mother sucked in a quiet breath. “But today’s the anniversary of Michael’s—”
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“Shouldn’t Lucy be with Cal and Sonja?”
“She wouldn’t come over if they had family plans.”
“I’ll throw together a tuna casserole.” Tony’s favorite comfort food. He followed his mother inside. “I haven’t seen Lucy in forever,” she said.
After all this time, she still had no idea he and Lucy had been involved in a relationship when Michael died.
“Lucy wants me to give her pointers on bull riding.” Tony walked down the narrow hallway of the double-wide, his mother hot on his heels.
“Lucy has no business on the back of a bull,” she said.
He entered the guest bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes. “She’s riding in the Ajo rodeo next month.”
Maria’s eyes rounded. “Cal and Sonja didn’t object?”
“Her parents don’t know.” Advertising the event would take care of that minor detail soon enough.
“Why in the world is Lucy rodeoing?”
“She’s trying to raise money for the Pony Express,” he said before shutting the bathroom door. Standing under the low-flow showerhead was like getting caught in a summer sprinkle rather than a dousing rainstorm. Mindful of the area’s water restrictions, he soaped up quickly and rinsed off. He spent most of his workday outside, requiring at least two showers per day in a state where water was a priceless commodity.
After drying off, he slapped his cheeks and neck with aftershave and shrugged into clean clothes, refusing to examine why he was sprucing up when he’d get sweaty all over again hauling out the mechanical bull from the shed.
He’d stowed the machine after Michael’s death and promised himself that he’d never use it again. He should have given it away, but he’d kept it as a reminder of all the good times they’d had together. While his mother worked in the kitchen, Tony hauled boxes of Christmas decorations out of the shed. He’d just finished clearing a path to the bull, which sat on transport dollies, when a truck pulled up in front of the trailer.
Maddie sat in the passenger seat, her long tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. As soon as Lucy opened the door, the dog charged Tony, and he braced himself for impact when she leaped through the air. Dropping to his knees, he wrestled with her.
Lucy laughed, drawing Tony’s gaze to her dimples, and his heart missed a beat. If one smile from Lucy was all it took to disrupt his life rhythm, then he was a heart attack waiting to happen.
“You should have seen Maddie when I asked if she wanted to visit you.” Lucy looked every inch the cowgirl in tight jeans, cowboy hat and boots. And her expensive-looking Western shirt hugged her breasts and showed off her trim waist.
Forcing his gaze from her figure, he pushed Maddie off him and fetched a bowl from the shelf inside the shed. Michael had left the water dish at the trailer for the times he stopped by with Maddie. The pink plastic dish with a princess crown painted on the side had amused Tony, and he’d accused Michael of treating the dog better than he did his girlfriends.
“Look at that, Maddie, a designer bowl.” Lucy laughed.
The dog followed Tony to the water spigot on the side of the trailer. As soon as he filled the bowl, she lapped up the contents then lay down in the shade on the porch.
“Michael complained about Maddie being a female dog.” Lucy stared at the boxer with sad eyes. “But I think my brother liked having his best girl by his side all the time.”
“Has Maddie been behaving?” Tony asked.
“Only because she’s been locked in her cage.”
No wonder the dog was depressed. After Michael had rescued her, she’d gone everywhere with him. Maddie was used to being with people and other animals, not spending every hour of the day alone. Tony shook his head to dislodge the image of the boxer in her cage and motioned to the shed. “I need your help with the bucking machine.”
Lucy glanced at the trailer door. “I was hoping to say hello to your mother before we started.”
“She’s making supper for us. You’ll have a chance to chat with her later.”
“Great.” Lucy poked her head inside the shed. “I’m glad you kept my brother’s bucking machine.”
“How did you know I had it?”
“I saw it in the back of your truck one afternoon in Yuma.” She shrugged. “How do you propose we pull this giant monstrosity out of here?”
“It’s resting on a pair of steerable dollies. It should roll right out.” He slipped past Lucy, the sultry scent of her perfume drifting up his nostrils.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
Stand there and let me sniff you. “Press this button.” He pointed to a red tab. “When I say so, pull on your end and I’ll push on mine.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Tony got into position. “Okay, hit the button.”
Lucy obeyed.
“Nice and slow so you don’t run over your foot.” He hadn’t expected Lucy to help much but the machine lurched forward and Tony acknowledged she was stronger than he’d given her credit for. Once they’d cleared the shed, they rolled the bull behind the trailer. Tony had poured a concrete slab six years ago when he’d bought his mother an outdoor cooking grill, but the grill had ended up at Juan’s house when the two of them begun dating.
As he positioned the machine, Lucy said, “I know you don’t approve of me rodeoing, but isn’t landing on cement cruel and unusual punishment?” The dimples in her cheeks twitched.
Man, she was cute. “You won’t fall off.”
“You sure of that?”
He grinned and set the dollies aside. “Trash day is Wednesday. Someone’s bound to throw out an old mattress.”
“I’m not landing on some flea-infested, urine-stained padding.”
“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll cover it with sheets.” All this talk about mattresses had Tony fantasizing about enticing Lucy into his bed.
“You’re in for a big surprise, Tony Bravo.” Lucy made a mulish face.
“Oh, yeah?” He laughed.
“I don’t intend to fall off.”
He could damn well guarantee she wouldn’t tumble from the machine, because he’d be standing by her side, ready to catch her if she slid. Lucy made a move to mount the bull. Tony’s hand shot out and caught her boot heel, holding her leg suspended in the air. “Your first lesson comes with a price, remember?”
Lucy didn’t attempt to yank her leg free and Tony struggled to keep his gaze averted from the fancy stitching across the back pockets of her designer jeans. “I have good news for you. Dad said I can take you out to the gold mine.”
“What happens if I find evidence of trespassers?” Damn, he was impressed with Lucy’s balance—she
wasn’t even teetering.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Fair enough. Lucy had matured into a self-confident young woman capable of holding her own with him, and Tony found that sexy as all get-out. He released her leg then grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the machine. When she wobbled, Tony placed his hand beneath her armpit to steady her. His palm accidentally brushed the side of her breast and a quiet gasp escaped her.
He was playing with fire. If he didn’t keep things between him and Lucy purely business he was likely to get hurt—in more ways than one.
Chapter Five
Tony plugged the bucking machine into the outlet at the rear of the trailer. “Hold on while I run the machine through each gear. If it jams, I don’t want you to get whiplash.”
“What? And take all the fun out of this?” Lucy said, refusing to grab the pommel.
Tony positioned the machine at the lowest level and the motor squeaked for a few seconds then settled into a gentle twisting motion. “Relax your hips,” he said. “You look like someone shoved a pole up your—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” She attempted a loosey-goosey posture, but it was all she could do to force herself to concentrate when Tony stared at her breasts.
“Guess what you’re doing wrong,” he said.
“Isn’t it your job to tell me what I’m doing wrong?”
“You’re holding the rope with your right hand.”
“Oops, I forgot.” She switched the rope to her left hand. After years of watching Tony and her brother compete, she’d known bull riders held the rope with their left hands, but Tony’s presence flustered her. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to ask for his help. He was a bigger threat to her than a renegade bull.
“Like this.” He grasped her hand and her skin tingled when the calluses on his palm scraped her knuckles. She shivered as an image of that rough hand caressing her bare thigh flashed before her eyes. Tony had been an amazing lover, and he’d taught her things about her body that she hadn’t known she could do.
He adjusted her fingers on the rope so her grip felt more secure. “Lean your shoulders forward, not your hips,” he said.
She did as instructed.
“That’s too much.” He stepped behind her and tweaked her shoulders. “Perfect.” Five seconds later he shook his head in disgust. “Your hips are moving again.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Yes, they are.” His fingers clamped down on her hips, pressing into the bone. Tiny electrical pulses shot through Lucy’s stomach and straight down to her…never mind.
“Try to move now,” he said.
Darn it, he’d been right. With her hips set in place and her spine relaxed she was able to keep her shoulders in place. Her body moved in sync with the machine and she remained balanced. Her emotions, however, were not as easy to steady.
“I knew this wouldn’t be difficult once I learned the proper technique.” She sounded winded—probably because Tony’s hands were still guiding her hips.
“Honey, if this sport was easy, every boy would grow up to be a rodeo cowboy.”
“I’m being positive. All I need to do is sit on a bull for a few seconds.”
He pressed down on her thigh with his hand. “Clamp your legs against the machine. Riding a bull for a short time is nothing. Dismounting without breaking your neck or getting stomped on is a bit trickier.”
“Being trampled isn’t in my game plan.” Lucy’s voice sounded sure, but her insides quaked—although not from fear, but arousal. With each undulating twist of the machine Tony’s fingers inched closer to her crotch. If she thrust her hips a fraction forward he’d touch…
“You better not get too cocky, Lucy.” He released her leg and she sucked in a lungful of air. “Your father will have my head and my job if a bull so much as swishes his tail in your face.”
“Hey, you kids.” Tony’s mother called from the porch. “Supper’s ready.”
Tony shut off the motor and helped Lucy climb down from the machine. “Before this goes any further—” his eyes bored into her “—when will you take me out to the mine?”
Lucy had forgotten Tony wasn’t giving her bull-riding lessons out of the goodness of his heart. “When do you want to go?”
“As soon as possible.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“I’ve got meetings in the morning, but I can make it out to the ranch by one-thirty.” He skirted the cactus flower bed and climbed the porch steps.
Lucy followed. “Stay here, Maddie.”
“She can come inside while we eat.” Tony clicked his tongue and the dog bolted past him into the trailer. After Tony shut the door behind Lucy, he scratched Maddie’s ears. “This is your home away from home, isn’t it, girl?” Maddie’s tail wagged. The dog hadn’t been this happy in a long time—obviously she missed Tony as much as she did Michael.
Tony’s mother stepped from the kitchen and smiled. “Lucy, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” She spoke perfect English with no accent, which always amazed Lucy. Michael had mentioned that when Tony’s mother decided to become a U.S. citizen she was determined to master the English language.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Bravo.” Lucy hugged the older woman.
“Call me Maria, please.” She waved them into the kitchen where she’d set the table. “I hope you like tuna casserole.”
“I love tuna casserole.” The Durango housekeeper rarely made comfort food. Instead she served mostly steamed veggies and grilled meats. “What can I help with?”
“You can fetch the bread from the oven.” Maria dished the casserole onto plates.
Both Lucy and Tony washed their hands at the kitchen sink, then Lucy retrieved the loaf of French bread and Tony grabbed bottles of water from the fridge.
Benign chitchat filled the dinner hour before Maria pushed her plate away. “Young lady,” she said, “your parents must be beside themselves. You couldn’t find a less risky way to raise money for the Pony Express?”
Tony left Lucy to fend off his mother’s questions while he cleared the table.
“I want to honor Michael’s memory, and riding bulls seemed like a good fundraiser idea.”
Maria patted Lucy’s hand. “You could get harmed.”
“Tony’s going to make sure I don’t.”
“It’s bad enough that I worry about my son when he gets on the back of a bull. Now I have to worry about you.” Maria shook her head. “I’ll see if my manager at the truck stop will let me put an empty pickle jar next to the register to collect change for the Pony Express.”
“Thank you, Maria. Do you think he’d also agree to hand out pledge cards and hang flyers in the windows?”
“I don’t see why not.” Maria frowned. “I can’t imagine your father approves of Tony giving you bull-riding lessons.” Maria Bravo was well aware that Lucy’s father blamed her son for Michael’s death.
“My father won’t make trouble for Tony.” And the only way she could guarantee that was to keep him from finding out that Tony was coaching her.
“I still don’t like the idea of—”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” Tony offered his mother a reassuring smile, but Lucy caught the flash of uncertainty in his eyes before he looked away.
Was Tony concerned her father might make trouble for him? As much as Lucy loved her dad, she never underestimated the power his wealth wielded. She’d witnessed firsthand how his pocketbook influenced politics in the state. If not for her mother’s philanthropic work and large financial donations to the performing arts programs at both state universities, her father would have more enemies than friends.
A cell phone rang and Maria excused herself from the table, taking the call in her bedroom.
“It’s probably Juan
from the truck stop,” Tony said.
“How long have they been a couple?”
“A few years.”
“Any plans to marry?”
Tony shook his head. “Mom doesn’t want to marry again. It was tough on her when my father was killed.”
And tough on Tony growing up without a father.
“Charlotte went home sick a few minutes ago,” Maria said as she hurried into the kitchen. “I’m heading over to the truck stop to fill in for a couple of hours until Linda arrives for the graveyard shift.” She grabbed her waitressing apron from a hook on the kitchen wall. “There are chocolate-chip cookies for dessert. Help yourselves.” At the door she said, “And you watch yourself on that goofy machine, Lucy.”
“I will. Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Maria.”
“Anytime, dear.”
As soon as the door closed, Tony said, “Ready?”
“For what?”
“Your next bull-riding lesson.”
The thought of Tony touching her body again excited Lucy, but she worried that the more time they spent with each other, the more difficult it would be to say “see ya” after the rodeo fundraisers ended. “I better get going.”
“If I’m in charge of keeping you alive, I call the shots.” He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “You’ll practice until your sweet little fanny is too sore to sit on.”
Lucy’s face warmed.
“Come hell or high water, Lucy Durango—” Tony walked to the door “—I’m gonna make sure nothing happens to that pretty neck of yours, because if you get injured, it’s my head your father will serve up on a silver platter.”
Even though Tony was well aware of the risks of helping Lucy, he appeared determined to stay the course. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said, following him onto the porch.
Tony descended the steps and fetched a can of lubricating spray from the shed then ducked beneath the bucking machine and oiled the motor. When he finished, he said, “Changed your mind about what?”
“Asking you to help me.” She motioned to the mechanical bull.
He returned the spray to the shed then strolled toward Lucy, hips swaggering. He stopped in front of her—less than an inch of space between them. His scent swirled around her head. “Who will help you?”
