Hard Ride: A Cowboy Romance

by Gigi Thorne

  I push her off me again and take her hands in my face. It’s not the easiest, since she’s clinging to me with her legs and still won’t let go of my neck, but I get a few inches of space between us. “What are you doing?” I growl. “You trying to ruin my life right out here on the street?”

  “I’m trying to save it, Luke Ryder,” she says, determination flaring like a flash of lightning in her blue eyes. “And the only way we’re going to survive this is for you to shut that mouth of yours. Or kiss me with it instead. As long as you’re not talking.”

  “By Christ, Isabel, have you gone insane?” I release her face and she dives back in for another kiss. Holy hell, it feels good. My hands instinctively go around the lush curves of her ass. If she keep this up, I might not be able to help ripping them right off her.

  No—Christ, no. I can’t get carried away like this. Not on the sidewalk in front of the damn gazebo, with everybody in town staring at us.

  I break away from Isabel and it takes all the strength in my body. “Iz, you have got to—”

  The guy on the sidewalk clears his throat.

  We both turn to look at him, Isabel still perched on my palms.

  “You guys all right?”

  “What the hell do you think? Of course we’re all right. I’m about to burst out of my zipper if things don’t take a turn for privacy, if you know what I mean.” I don’t know why I’m saying this to him at all, only that the frustration of being this close to Isabel—and clothed—has me ready to combust. “Everything’s fine,” I repeat, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Get on out of here.” I jerk my jaw to the side, same as I would to a dog on the ranch. “Go on.”

  He hesitates, looking between me and Isabel, then opens his mouth one more time.

  “Don’t even think about it.” I cut him off before he can say another idiotic word. “Just go.”

  He turns on the heel of his new cowboy boots and heads off.

  “Thank you,” Isabel calls at his retreating back. “Your heart was in the right place.”

  He sticks a hand up in the air. Even his wave looks confused. Isabel hops down from my arms and re-adjusts her bikini top. Then, because she’s trying to give me a heart attack, she bends at the waist, her back arched, and retrieves her clipboard from the sidewalk. When she straightens up and sees me looking at her, her blue eyes go wide. “What?”

  “What was all that?” I point in the general direction that conquering tourist hero took when he walked away. “Jumping on top of me? God, Iz, you’re really not getting the message, are you?”

  “I’m only trying to keep your head above water,” she says, her chin lifted.

  “I’m not drowning,” I tell her. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You can’t always tell if you’re drowning or not.”

  “Isabel,” I groan. “You have ruined me for the day. Maybe even the week. I don’t see how this is ever going to work out.”

  “What’s there to work out?” Isabel says with a grin. “Except maybe the fact that Rider Ranch is failing, and apparently I’m the only one who can—”

  “Not like this.” Another flare of irritation. “I told you yesterday that this wasn’t how the business should be run.”

  “You told me not to stand out front in a bikini. This is not the same thing.”

  “That’s splitting hairs and you know it.” My cock pulses painfully against my jeans. “Damn it—” I stalk toward the car. I can’t stand here looking at her for another second. I can’t stand here, period.

  “Luke.” Isabel rushes up and puts a hand on my arm as I reach for the door handle. “I’m only trying to help. Please, let me help.”

  A searing shame washes over me. I shouldn’t need her help. I shouldn’t need her in my bed. This is an exercise in futility if I’ve ever encountered one. “I’ve got to go.”

  And there it is, in that voice I can’t ignore. “Take me with you.”

  13

  Isabel

  Luke shakes his head, eyes hot on every available curve. “You’re nothing but trouble.”

  “I’ll take it down a notch if you want. But Luke—I’ve got people lining up to have tours at Rider Ranch.”

  His eyes flash. “These people aren’t here for the tours. They’re here to see you in that suit. It’s false advertising.”

  I cock my head to the side. “I’d come back to the ranch, but you said—”

  “Oh, hell—”

  “—I couldn’t do this there.”

  “Listen to me. I’m not standing in the middle of town, with you looking like that, having this discussion. If that two-bit asshole hadn’t stepped in my way—”

  “Would I be hog-tied in your trunk right now?” I bat my eyelashes at him and jut one hip to the side, emphasizing the line of my waist. Being near him—it’s like being drunk. I feel intoxicated by his presence, by the fact that I broke him with one flip of my bikini top. And even wearing shorts, he’s driven wild. He sees me now. He can’t stop. He can’t help it.

  “No. Jesus. But we would be away from all these prying eyes.”

  It’s true—there are several people gathered on the sidewalk across from the gazebo. In typical small-town fashion, they’re pretending not to look at us, but you can bet your bottom dollar they are. Right—the pictures. Pictures that could get back to my boss in Manhattan, where my real life is.

  “Fine. Then what are you waiting for? You said you had to go.”

  Luke gives a half bow, extending his arm toward the car. “Your chariot awaits.”

  I swing my hips as I cross the sidewalk, then open the door as alluringly as possible and climb into the passenger seat…and promptly leap up with a cry. “Shit! That’s hot. Why are your seats so hot?”

  “Must not have parked in the shade,” Luke says, climbing in and starting it up. The car sputters, then the engine turns. I gingerly hold my skin away from the seat and turn over, searching in the back for anything to protect my delicate legs.

  “My ass could burn.” I come up with a spare shirt that must be Luke’s. It’s clean, plaid, and soft as hell.

  “You’d deserve a tanned ass,” he grumbles, but I see the heat in his eyes. I’ve never been into that kind of shit, but it would be erotic as hell to be bent over his lap. I get a flash of the vision—his legs pressing into my stomach, his cock pressing into my hip—and bite my lip. “Oh, Jesus, Isabel. Don’t tell me you’d like it.”

  “There’s no telling what I’d like,” I say primly. I spread the shirt across the seat and sit back down, then reach for my seat belt buckle. “Like I told you yesterday—I don’t have a lot of experience with…experienced men.”

  Luke presses his lips together and reverses out of the spot. “Yesterday shouldn’t have happened. You know that.”

  “Luke Rider, are you going to dump me after I’ve been standing in the middle of town wearing my very best bikini for you?”

  “Dump you?” His skin, tanned from the sun, flushes a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t realize your help came with a relationship attached. Which, by the way, I never asked for, either.”

  The sting of his reply hits hard, a blow straight to my heart, and all that confidence I brought with me from the city crumples to the floor of his car. I sniff once and turn my head out the window. How does my face look? Is it obvious that he’s wounded me? I hope not. I’ve been vulnerable enough with him—admitting that I had a crush, sleeping with him—and the last thing I need is for him to see me as an overemotional little girl when in fact I am a fully grown woman perfectly capable of living without him.

  “Isabel,” he says softly, sounding more miserable than pissed off. “Don’t take it like that.”

  “Take it like what?” I turn back to him and let him see that I’m dry-eyed. “I was only kidding. About you dumping me. Obviously, things between us have never had a snowball’s chance in hell.”

  He makes a sound low in his throat. “I’d say they were slightly better than that.”<
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  “Oh, yeah?” I narrow my eyes and glare into the side of his face, though Luke keeps his own gaze focused studiously on the road. “All those years when you ignored me for every other girl in town?”

  “Ignored you for—” He laughs out loud. “You were always creeping around silently, like a little mouse. And even if I wanted to...you know...what the hell was I supposed to have done about Cy?”

  “I don’t know what Cy has to do with any of this,” I say testily.

  “Oh, come on. If you had no problem with your brother discovering us together, why’d you hide in the bedroom?”

  I purse my lips. It does nothing to stop the blush from spreading up into my cheeks. “Because...”

  “Because you didn’t want him to know. Probably for the same reason I wouldn’t want him to know.”

  “Why, because he’s an overprotective fool?” This conversation is going in a hundred different directions. It feels like a mechanical bull that I can’t keep my grip on.

  “I don’t relish fighting my best friend,” Luke says, raising a hand to rub it across the back of his neck. “I bet you don’t relish fighting your brother.”

  “I don’t relish being treated like a little kid. Especially by you. Especially after yesterday.”

  “God, Isabel,” Luke groans. “Stop making me think of yesterday.”

  Another stinging shot to the heart. “Shit. If it was that bad, just let me out of the car now. We’re close enough that I can walk home.”

  “It wasn’t bad,” Luke says, his voice urgent. “Hey. Look at me.”

  I look across at him, and he’s waiting—his green eyes locked on mine. “You’re driving. Look at the road.”

  He does, but reluctantly. “Yesterday wasn’t bad.” He speaks through gritted teeth. “It was so damn good that it’s ruining my life.”

  I let out a barking laugh. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about it,” Luke says. “I can’t stop thinking about you in my bedroom.” One glance down at the front of his pants confirms that he’s telling the truth. “I can’t stop thinking about what it would have been like if we...”

  “If we what?” I prompt, my heart hammering.

  “If we’d had a chance a long time ago,” he finishes. “If I could have made you mine before anybody else had a chance to touch you.”

  “I’m not damaged goods.” He brings me so high, and then he brings me so low.

  “The thought of another man—any other man—putting his hands on you drives me wild with jealousy,” Luke says, his voice raw. “Any man, past or present. Or future.”

  I can’t speak.

  “Yesterday made it harder by a hundredfold.” He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles pale. “And today, with all those people looking at you—” He shakes his head. “I lost it. I just lost it.”

  I stare out at the road, which I’ve driven a thousand times coming home and leaving. “So...”

  “So?”

  The silence in the car expands, grows heavy. “What do we do now?”

  14

  Luke

  “I don’t know.”

  It’s all happening fast. Two days, and Isabel has people lined up and waiting for tours. She’s dragging the ranch right out of the mud, but she’s got me snared in her own web. In more ways than one.

  I continue driving on autopilot, listening to her breathe next to me. I don’t know much—but what I do know is that I need to get her somewhere private. And soon. I need her body on mine. It’s the only thing that’s going to calm my feverish brain.

  “You’re not taking me home,” she says. It’s not really a question.

  “I’m taking you to my place. Unless you have a problem with that.”

  “I don’t,” she says softly. “What are we going to do when we get there?”

  I set my jaw. “Talk.”

  I can see her studying me out of the corner of my eye. And yes—I know I hauled her off that gazebo by my own damn self. But the fact of her sitting next to me in the passenger seat leaves me aching and breathless. It was shock enough to see her at that holiday party, looking every inch the gorgeous grown woman she’s become. And now, with the scent of her filling every available inch of the air, knowing what’s beneath those shorts, all pink and glistening and so unbearably tight—

  “You sure you want to talk?”

  “No,” I growl, resisting the urge to unzip my pants right here. “I sure as hell don’t want to talk, and you sure as hell know it.”

  I pull into my driveway and gun it up the rise and fall covered in gravel. I swing the car into the spot with more force than I intended, and Isabel braces herself against the side of the car.

  “Then let’s not talk,” she breathes out, as I twist the key and yank it out of the ignition. “I’d rather not, either.”

  “Why?” I step out of the car, needing some space before I pin her down in the front seat. There’s not even room in the front seat to fuck her, but I’d make space. “I thought your specialty was talking. That’s why you swept in here and upended everything.”

  She lets out a cute little laugh. “You know perfectly well my specialty is marketing. And if you haven’t been talking to anybody, then we’ve discovered your problem. Rider Ranch is failing because—”

  Isabel comes around the front of the car while she talks, and as soon as we’re face to face I can’t take it another second. “I don’t care about the ranch when you’re parading around in front of me like that. Jesus, Iz. It makes it unbearable.”

  Her eyes widen. “It makes what unbearable?”

  “Not being buried inside you. Every second of the day. And I can’t do this. You know what’ll happen if I—”

  “Fall for me?” She lifts her chin defiantly. “Because I have to tell you, you wouldn’t be the first person on earth to fall for someone they can’t have.”

  “What are you talking about?” The sun beats down, scorching on my neck, but Isabel is hotter. She’s the closest star there is, and she’s burning me alive.

  “You, you idiot,” she says, and I can tell it takes her more than a little effort not to roll her idiot. “I’ve said it before. Just yesterday. Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?”

  “You can’t imagine how much I remember from yesterday. But words aren’t high on the list.”

  “Not with all of your blood rushing straight to your—”

  “Rushing?” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s not rushing. It’s already there. So quit with all your cute arguments and go inside.”

  A little smile plays at the corners of her lips. “You going to show me what’s what?”

  “I’ve already let you see what’s what, you brat.” I stalk defiantly toward the house.

  “Brat?” The word rolls off Isabel’s lips insolently, with a touch of desire that’s unmistakable. “What makes me a brat?”

  “The list of things that don’t make you a brat would be shorter. And you don’t have to bait me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’ve already got me hook, line, and sinker.” I pull open the door to the house and hold it open for her, because even if she is insufferable, I’m still a fucking gentleman. “You’re dragging us both in the direction of disaster and laughing all the way.” My cock pulses against my pants. She wasn’t kidding about that rush of blood affecting the brain. I can feel my vision narrowing, a dark tunnel where Isabel is the only thing in the light. And if I don’t get her in bed soon—

  “But you never asked for a relationship. How can you be—?”

  “Did you?” I stare her down. “Did you ask for a relationship, or did you just come here to torture me, knowing this could never work out? You knew I’d never be able to forget this from the moment you put on that bikini.”

  “So what if I did?” Isabel snaps. “So what if I came here to help you and hoped that you might finally give me what I always wanted?”

 
It hits me like a one-two punch to the gut. “I’m not worth your time. Don’t you see it? I’ve got a failing business that I can’t pull out of a tailspin, and my only skills are running the damn ranch—”

  “Do you think I ever cared for an instant whether you had a ranch or not? Or whether it failed or not? God, Luke. All I ever wanted was you.” Her blue eyes flare with need. “And now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more. Can you blame me?” She glances down at her chest. “If a sexy bathing suit is what it takes, you’ll see me in one every day from now to kingdom come.”

  “Fuck the bathing suit. I like you better with it off.”

  She’s right there. She’s about to jump into my arms, and I’ll finally have five seconds of relief before the guilt descends.

  But then there’s a pounding knock at the door.

  15

  Isabel

  Luke curses under his breath and reaches for the door knob before I can stop him. The tension building at my core is wound so tight it’s about to snap, and the man still answers the door.

  “Luke—”

  “What can I do for you?” His tone is more cutting than jovial, even to the group of men standing on the porch who look very much like they’re out for a boys’ trip to the ranch. A bachelor party. Some bullshit like that. One of them canvasses me with his eyes and nods to himself, which doesn’t seem like a good sign. He’s wearing a red bandana around his neck.

  “You can step out of here, away from the lady.”

  Luke cocks his head to the side. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m going to ask you again to step outside.”

  “Out of my own house? Who are you, the FBI?”

  “A group of concerned citizens.” It’s at that moment that a tall redhead clears his throat in the back, and oh, fuck—it’s the guy from downtown. “We saw her leave with you and we want to make sure there’s not a...situation happening here.”