Cowboy Trouble (The McCord Brothers 1.5)

by Delores Fossen

  “Very nice,” she said, not sounding surprised. Which pleased him.

  He hadn’t wanted her to think he’d been lying to her father about having property. Especially since he’d lied to the man about having a lawyer. As a general rule, ranch hands didn’t need lawyers.

  “The kitchen’s this way.” He led her in that direction, and she repeated her very nice as she ran her fingers over the butcher-block countertop. That was also where she placed the divorce papers, right next to the stove. “I’ll mix us up a drink and then I can take you back to the ranch for your car.”

  Of course, when he returned to work he’d have to listen to the jokes about him and Natalie stepping out for an afternoon delight. The jokes would be raunchier when coupled with the news that they weren’t really divorced. No way would Wilhelmina let that stay quiet for long.

  He took out the mixings, his gaze meeting Natalie’s, and he saw something in her eyes. Literally. They were watering.

  “Are you, uh, crying?” he asked.

  “No.” She dropped her shoes on the floor and pulled at the waist of her skirt. “It’s this body-shaping underwear I have on. They’re called Skinnies. Because you feel as if you’ve been skinned when you take it off. Anyway, I thought I’d only have it on for about two hours or so, which is my max level of tolerance for it.” She paused. “I want to take it off.”

  Now, normally this would have been something a man would love to hear. But nothing about this was normal.

  “I don’t have any spare underwear with me, but I was hoping you could lend me a pair of boxers,” Natalie added.

  For some stupid reason the thought of her getting into his boxers gave him a hard-on. Or maybe that was just the idea of her stripping down while under the same roof with him.

  “Sure,” Rico said. Not easily. But he finally managed to get out the words. He also kept the lower half of his body hidden behind the counter. “I can get you a pair.”

  “No, just point me in the right direction. I’ll find them. I need you to get started on those drinks.”

  Sadly, he understood that particular need and hoped in this case that tequila would soften him up a bit. In more ways than one.

  Rico pointed toward his bedroom. “There are boxers in the top drawer of the dresser. And socks.” Because he doubted she wanted to put those painful-looking shoes back on until it was time to go.

  Which should be soon.

  Rico figured that three drinks would do it. Two for her, one for him, and then if he gave her some food, she’d still be good to drive in a couple of hours. He’d be good for work as well since he wanted to check on that livestock delivery.

  He put the margaritas in the blender, took out some eggs to scramble. Not exactly the meal of champions, but eggs wouldn’t test the limits of his cooking skills. He put some bread in the toaster while he was at it.

  “I’m thinking about burning these Skinnies,” he heard Natalie say.

  He looked up. And he was sure his tongue landed on the floor. Crap. He was in trouble here.

  Natalie had put on his cotton boxers and a pair of his gray socks. She’d also taken off her skirt. The boxers covered a lot since they hit her just below midthigh, but the fabric clung to her curves as if holding on for dear life.

  Rico knew how the cotton felt.

  He was clinging to the spatula he was using to scramble the eggs. Clinging to his eyeballs to keep them in his head. Also attempting to cling to his willpower.

  “I know,” she said, looking down at the garb. “It’s not the dress-to-impress outfit I showed up in.”

  She took off her earrings and watch as well and slipped them into her purse. Apparently, they weren’t comfortable, either.

  “This will give me an hour or two before I have to regear and go home,” she added. “I tried putting the skirt on over the boxers, but it just bunched up everything.”

  Then she noticed that he was staring at her.

  “Is this too much? Did I overstep the limits of your offer to make me a drink? And eggs,” she added, glancing into the kitchen. “And toast.”

  “You didn’t overstep anything,” he mumbled, and Rico forced himself to turn around and take the eggs from the skillet before they burned to a crisp.

  Natalie came up behind him and searched the cabinets for glasses. She found mason jars and filled them with the margaritas. She started in on hers, and since she seemed determined to finish it as quickly as possible, Rico dished her up some of the eggs and toast.

  She didn’t touch the food, but she carried her margarita to the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the stone fireplace. The windows had a good view of the creek and the surrounding woods. Just as Rico had designed it.

  “I can see your handiwork in every part of this house,” Natalie said. “I can see you.”

  It was the best compliment anyone could have paid him. Funny that it’d come from his ex. Well, his wife who should have been his ex had it not been for a judgmental county clerk.

  “You brought me here that night you fixed my flat tire,” she continued. She kept her back to him. Kept sipping the margarita. “Because I was soaking wet and didn’t want to go home like that. Your grandparents were asleep, so we had to be quiet. And you lit a fire. In the fireplace,” she amended.

  When she looked at him over her shoulder, he could see something he didn’t want to see. More of her thigh, for one thing. And a smile. The wrong kind of smile because they weren’t talking about fireplace heat right now.

  She turned slowly and walked toward him. With the backdrop of the windows and the Mason jar dangling from her hand, she made a picture.

  A bad one.

  Because that wasn’t a princess look in her eyes. That was the naughty-cowgirl-in-boxer-shorts look.

  “Natalie,” he warned her, and since he was damn certain he was going to need it, he downed some of his own margarita.

  He did need it.

  Because when she got closer, he knew she was going to kiss him. Rico did something about that. By kissing her first.

  Yeah, this was a thousand gallons of stupid, but that didn’t stop him. Nope. He just slid his hand around her nicely curved butt, hauled her to him and kept on kissing her. It was scalding, of course, until some of her margarita spilled on him. It gave him a jolt and should have knocked some sense into him.

  It didn’t.

  Rico continued kissing her, hard and deep, just the way he liked both kisses and sex. It must have been the way she liked kisses, too, because Natalie practically threw the margarita glass onto the counter. Did the same to his when she wrenched it from his left hand. And she coiled her arms around him, pulling him right smack-dab against her. All in all, it was a good place to be.

  She made a sound of pleasure that fired him up even more. Not that he needed any more firing. She was doing a good enough job with her breasts pressed against his chest and her leg sliding against his.

  It didn’t take long for them to start jockeying for position. Trying to get closer. Trying to deepen the kiss even more. Trying to do something to relieve the heat and the need. Which really shouldn’t happen.

  Rico repeated that.

  Repeated it again.

  Then he cursed when he tore himself from her.

  “Natalie, this could muddy some waters that need to stay clear,” he reminded her.

  She stared at him. Her breath gusting. Her breasts reacting to those gusts. His body reacting to her reactions.

  “You’re right,” she said.

  So, that was it. They were stopping. No ex sex or one last hookup before they filed for the divorce again. Natalie was going to do the sensible thing here. That was why it shocked Rico when he didn’t.

  Hell.

  “I’m all up for a little mud,” Rico drawled, and he snapped h
er right back to him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NATALIE HAD SEEN the last kiss coming, but she still hadn’t been ready for it. Certainly hadn’t been ready for that rush of fire to any and all parts of her body. Leave it to Rico to have her feeling that heat all the way down to her toes.

  Her lady place had the most feeling of all, though. And it wanted to feel even more. Thankfully, Rico knew how to give more because he caught on to the back of her knee, lifting her leg until their bodies were aligned in the best possible way to make her want to finish this. That could happen in the bedroom or right here on the kitchen counter. Location was irrelevant.

  But Rico stopped. And he blinked as if trying to focus. “How much is that margarita playing into this?” he asked.

  “Zero.” Her head was spinning a little, but Natalie was pretty sure that was from the kiss. From the touching, too. Rico gave her a little nudge with his erection that had her seeing double.

  He made a sound that seemed as if he wasn’t quite buying that. He also gave her a skeptical look to go along with that sound and continued to stare down at her.

  “Don’t overthink this,” she insisted. Natalie certainly had no plans for that. Yes, the divorce papers were just a few feet away. Papers that they needed to sign, but if they had sex, then...

  Heck, she was overthinking this.

  To remedy that, she kissed him again. Really kissed him. She added some body nudges, too, and just in case he was still able to think straight, she slid her hand down into his jeans. That took care of the skeptical look and sound. Took care of her overthinking, too, because she took hold of what would put a great finish to all of this foreplay.

  Rico cursed, turned her and pinned her against the counter. What he didn’t do was let her keep her hand in his jeans. Natalie was about to protest, but he yanked down her boxers and put his own hand to good use. His fingers sank into her while he continued to deliver some of those wildfire kisses. Not just to her mouth, but to her neck.

  Then her naked breasts.

  Rico had absolutely no trouble locating them. He’d somehow managed to shove up her top, pull down her bra and lower his head to her nipples, all without stopping his magic fingers. It was perfect.

  Almost.

  Even though the pleasure was making her senseless, she still figured out a way to get her hand in his jeans again. “This would work even better than your fingers,” she pointed out.

  He grunted, that painful pleasure sound of a man who was aware she’d just stated the obvious. Rico knew very well what to do with that particular man-part of his.

  “This will take the edge off so you can think straight,” he said. Whatever the heck that meant. Natalie wanted the full Rico treatment. Every hard inch of him.

  He moved her hand away again. She opened her mouth to protest, got a French kiss instead. It not only hushed her, but it also gave Rico’s fingers enough time to make her incapable of protesting even if her mouth hadn’t been otherwise occupied.

  Natalie came so hard and fast that her legs buckled. It was nothing like mere fireworks when she was with Rico. It was more like a solar system exploding. It wracked through every nerve, every part of her. Thankfully, Rico held her in place, pinning her not only with his hand but with his erection right behind his hand.

  “The edge is off,” Natalie managed to say when she could remember how to breathe. She pushed his hand away so they could rebuild that edge with what he had behind his zipper.

  Once more, he stopped her. Despite the amazing orgasm that was still rippling through her, Natalie scowled.

  “You know you want this,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he verified right away. “But what I don’t want is for you to have so many regrets about this that it’ll make you cry. I especially don’t want you to do that when there’s any chance the tequila might be calling the shots here. Because tequila is rarely a good shot-caller.”

  Since her mind was still clouded with lust, it was hard to come up with a logical response to that. “I might cry if I don’t have real sex with you.” It was a bluff, of course, but she was still feeling a little desperate.

  Looking very pained, he took her by the shoulders, moved her away from him and then fixed her clothes. Natalie didn’t want her clothes fixed. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted sex.

  But Rico brushed a very chaste kiss on her mouth and headed in the direction of his bedroom. Natalie was about to follow him, but she soon realized Rico hadn’t exactly issued her an invitation.

  He shut the bedroom door.

  And he locked it.

  * * *

  RICO TOOK A shower. A cold one. So cold that he felt like a block of ice, but even that might not be enough.

  What the hell had he done?

  Clearly, he hadn’t learned anything from his breakup with Natalie, and he had rocks in his head. Rocks in his nether region, too, since he was still hard even after all that cold water. Despite the hardness, and the ache—man, the ache was bad—he got dressed and forced himself to go back out there and face her. It was time to discuss those divorce papers and sign them so they could both get on with their lives.

  He practiced a little of what he was going to say to her. Then forgot every single word of it when he ran right into her as he came out of his bedroom. Suddenly, she was in his arms again and plastered against his body. Rico would have remedied that if she hadn’t held on.

  “Just listen to me,” she said. But she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Natalie stood there, her arms wrapped around him, their gazes connected. The lower part of her body was connected to his permanent erection, too.

  An erection that she noticed because she glanced down between them.

  That slow, evil ride-’em-cowgirl smile appeared again. “I can fix that.”

  Yes, he was very familiar with Natalie’s means of fixing. But as much as he wanted to take her up on the offer, Rico shook his head. “We need to talk,” he insisted.

  She groaned, the smile vanished, and probably as a way of punishing him, she stepped to the side, the pressure of her body so well-placed that he damn near came. Her smile returned, but she kept it brief, no doubt because she knew he wanted to ring her neck right about now.

  “So, no real ex sex?” she asked.

  Rico hesitated. He shouldn’t have. Because it got her mouth moving as if she were ready to smile again. And reach for his zipper.

  “You know you’ll regret this,” he started. “Because you’ll sign those papers, marry Marcus and be the good girl that your daddy wants.”

  Obviously, he hadn’t practiced that enough. It sounded mean, mean enough to make Natalie look away from him. She mumbled something he didn’t catch and went back to the kitchen for her margarita. That was when he noticed she’d practically finished the entire pint jar.

  Hell.

  She’d had even more than that because the blender was empty, too. Rico doubted that she’d poured it down the sink, which meant she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while longer.

  “What if I don’t regret it?” she asked.

  Good question. He didn’t have much of a good answer. “Is that the margarita still talking?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t regret it before I even started it.”

  “But you will.” He grabbed his own margarita and went to the sofa. “Obviously, you’ve got some things to work out.” One of those things immediately popped into his mind. “Earlier at the ranch, you said you just needed for someone to find you attractive again. What the heck was that all about?”

  Natalie lifted her shoulder, followed him into the living room, but she didn’t sit next to him. She took the chair across from him. “Marcus doesn’t come right out and say it, but he’s always hinting that he wants me to lose some weight.”

  “What?” A
nd in his head, he didn’t just say that word. Rico yelled it. Not that he’d needed any evidence that Marcus was a dunderhead, but that proved it. “Screw him. Not literally. But tell him to screw himself. You look great.”

  She frowned. “That’s your erection talking.”

  “Maybe, but my eyes agree with it.”

  His mouth did, too. But yes, his hard-on did have a say in this. Always would when it came to Natalie. Because no matter how rocky their past, the attraction just walked right over those rocks and found its way into his boxers. Just as Natalie had done.

  Now that Rico was satisfied there was no way Natalie should marry her daddy’s choice in mates, he went on to the next thing that was bothering him. “While we were in Bernie’s office, your expression changed when your father mentioned your mother.”

  Natalie didn’t exactly skitter away from him, but it was close. She got up from the chair and walked over to the windows. She stood there with her back to him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Is that off-limits?” Rico didn’t wait for her to confirm that. “But the rumor mill says that your mom left your dad, and you, because you married me.”

  She didn’t confirm that, either. In fact, she stayed quiet for so long that he thought maybe she was ready to leave. Not dressed like that, of course. And not while still sipping that margarita, but she wasn’t thinking straight, so there was no telling what was going through her head right now.

  “I messed up a lot before you,” she finally said. “I made some very bad choices. I got arrested for underage drinking. I got suspended from school for skipping. I sneaked out of the house—many times to meet you.”

  He knew all about that, even the parts that hadn’t personally involved him. Small town, big mouths. “Hell, half of Spring Hill has been in trouble for things like that or worse.”

  “Half the town doesn’t have my parents.” She let that hang in the air for several long seconds, and even though he still couldn’t see her face, he could have sworn her shoulders slumped.