Spring at Saddle Run

by Delores Fossen

  “I just washed up,” he said. “Had to pull a calf.”

  Joe reached out and took something from a stall door. A T-shirt, she realized, when he put it on and ended the dirty little fantasy she was having about him.

  She felt like a woman in a trance when she walked to him. One slow step ahead of the other. Her gaze, probably hot and hungry, fixed on him. Once he had his head and arms through the shirt, he did some gaze fixing, as well.

  And he smiled.

  “You look...interested,” he said as if carefully choosing how to finish that.

  It was the right finish, and the right conclusion. Millie went to him, slipped her arm around his neck and drew him to her. He smelled good, not like someone who’d just pulled a calf. She caught the scent of his deodorant and the detergent from his clean shirt.

  Millie couldn’t resist. She pulled Joe down to her for a kiss. She didn’t make it nearly as long and deep as she wanted. If she had, she likely would have jumped him right then, right there, and while she was certain that would be very enjoyable, she needed to make sure he was okay.

  “How are you?” she asked, easing back from him. She couldn’t stop herself from running her tongue over her bottom lip so she could hang on to the taste of him a little longer.

  “Better.” He used his thumb, sliding it over her mouth, retracing the path her tongue had just taken. “I’ve decided to put off thinking about the paintings or what Ella did with the money from the sale of them. How about you? Are you all right? You seemed a little shaken after dinner last night.”

  That was a whole lot for her to consider. Going in the order of the things he’d just brought up, she could tell him how much she’d paid for the painting, but putting all of that aside was the way to go. However, she wasn’t sure she wanted to put the reason for her being “shaken” aside.

  There was zero doubt in her mind that her mother wouldn’t have wanted her to discuss this with anyone, but Millie needed a sounding board. And Joe was a good one. Then, afterward, she could kiss him again.

  Joe was good for that, too.

  Millie laid it all out there for him, giving him the condensed version. “Tanner thinks my mother is having an affair and that she’s being blackmailed.”

  Joe still had his fingers under her chin, and she felt them go still. “What?” he asked.

  His surprise was probably in the same range as hers had been the night before. “Tanner says he saw Laurie Jean kissing another man in the back doorway of my shop. He didn’t get a good enough look at the man to know who he was.”

  “It was probably your father,” Joe quickly pointed out. “They might have been at the shop for a new hanky-panky venue.”

  While that was a good guess—and an intriguing one about new-venue hanky-panky—she had to shake her head. “The guy had black hair. And I’ve spent a good chunk of the day coming up with the names of the black-haired men in Last Ride who’d consider my mother fling material.”

  Of course, it might be more than a fling, but Millie just couldn’t go there yet. She was still dealing with the idea of the prim and proper Laurie Jean doing anything like what Millie had fantasized about doing with Joe.

  Joe’s forehead bunched up. “What about the blackmail?”

  Millie gathered her breath. “Apparently, my aunt Freida believes that because my mother wanted to borrow some money from her. I’ve spent a good chunk of my day trying to figure out a reason for that. A reason that doesn’t involve blackmail,” she added.

  Joe stayed quiet a moment, obviously processing that. “Is it possible that Tanner got all of this wrong and that your mother simply wants to borrow money to buy Asher a gift or something?”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” She sighed and wiped the quickly forming perspiration from her head.

  Joe must have noticed her sweating, and since the sun was beating down on them, he took hold of her and moved her into the barn. It was a heck of a lot cooler inside, and she immediately spotted the cow and the calf.

  “Oh, how cute.” She started to go closer to the wobbly legged calf but stopped when the cow lowered her head and made a low throaty moo that didn’t sound the least bit friendly.

  “Best to stay back,” Joe advised. “She tolerated me helping with the delivery, but she’s being protective about her new baby.”

  Millie didn’t need a child of her own to understand that. “He...she’s not white like the other calf I saw.”

  “She,” Joe supplied. “I got a look under her tail. No testicles. And you’re right about the white. She’s the color she’s supposed to be. The Charolais bull must have tapped out his potency or else didn’t make it to the part of the pasture where Elsie was.”

  “Elsie?” Millie smiled. “I thought she’d have a number instead of a name.”

  “Oh, she does. But every now and then, a name sticks.”

  Millie thought that maybe a lot of names stuck with Joe. “Softy,” she accused.

  It felt so good just to feel good and joke around with him like this. Joe was one of the few people who could remind her that happiness was a strong possibility for the day. And that had nothing to do with kissing him. That said, kissing him could certainly give her a happy boost.

  Judging from the gleam in his incredible eyes, Joe was having a similar thought.

  “I can give you that riding lesson,” he offered again. He hooked his fingers in the empty belt loop of her jeans and eased her closer. “Might be a good time for you to get used to riding in the saddle with someone.”

  Now, that sounded interesting. “Would that someone be you?”

  He nodded. For such a simple gesture, it packed a wallop. Probably because his expression took on that sexy slant. Which it often did. It happened when he smiled. When he was breathing.

  Millie didn’t resist when he tugged on her loop to move her toward him. “Does that mean we would be pressed very close together in such a way that I could accidentally cop a feel?”

  “Copped feels are optional,” he drawled, lowering his head to touch his mouth to hers. “But if we’re going to ride, we’ll have to leave this barn and saddle up.”

  Neither of those things held as much promise, or heat, as staying put did. Especially staying put when Joe kissed her again.

  Her whole body sighed. Then, possibly whimpered because he could do things to her so fast. Like take her from heated to scalding. From wanting to needing. And he made those particular journeys oh so very interesting.

  He was a good six inches taller than her so Millie had to come up on her toes to get the full deal of pressing her mouth to his. Even though she made an urgent little sound of need, he didn’t speed up. He just kissed and kissed. And kissed. Before he moved his incredibly talented tongue past her lips and into her mouth.

  More heat spiked, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t felt this much heat even with sex. Maybe not ever. Joe was doing a thorough job of seducing her just with his mouth.

  Still moving as if they had all the time in the world, he shifted their positions, so that her back was against a thick wooden pole. It turned out that he had a darn good reason for that. It was so they wouldn’t topple over when he pressed his body to hers.

  Which he did.

  Oh, they fit all right. Her nipples got especially excited about being against all those muscles. Ditto for the hot spots on her neck since that’s where he dropped the next round of kisses. But the winner of her excited parts was the center of her body. Between her thighs. Where Joe managed to add some pressure that made her want to rip off his clothes. Her clothes, too.

  They were in a barn, she reminded herself, and the cow and calf were right there, maybe watching them. It was hot and not the best smelling place to fool around. But even with those drawback reminders, Millie didn’t move. Well, other than to slide her hands from Joe’s back to his butt.

 
Like the rest of him, that particular part of his anatomy was toned, too, and she got a really clear mental image of clamping on to his superior buns while he plunged into her.

  “Someone’s coming,” he said, tearing his mouth from her neck.

  Because her heartbeat was thundering in her ears, Millie didn’t get what he’d said until he repeated it. And until he moved back from her.

  Blinking hard to clear her vision, Millie looked past him and out the barn door. She saw the car pull to a stop next to hers.

  And she cursed.

  “That’s my mother,” she managed to say.

  “Yeah. I know,” Joe verified. “She’s never been to my place so I’m guessing she’s here to see you.”

  Millie cursed again, and she thought of the “Call me back now” message she’d left for Laurie Jean. Millie had added in that message that she’d be taking a riding lesson from four to five so her mother had probably figured out where that ride would be. Especially since it was almost certainly a topic of gossip.

  “Millicent Marie Parkman!” her mother called out.

  Great. She’d used her whole name, the way she had in the Dial Antibacterial days. So, either she was pissed or she thought there’d be more than one Millie around and wanted to specify which one she was there to see.

  Millie had to hand it to Joe. Most men would have simply stayed back rather than risk facing an irate Laurie Jean, but Joe went to the barn door. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Parkman.”

  That only made her mother’s face go even harder. “I want to talk to my daughter.”

  “I’m here,” Millie said, stepping to Joe’s side. She looked up at him and realized he looked as if he’d been thoroughly kissed.

  Which meant she did, too.

  This was going to be a fun conversation with her mother. Especially considering that Millie was going to have to bring up the other stuff that Tanner had told her.

  “Pray for me,” Millie muttered to Joe.

  “You want me to kiss you or make a show of holding your hand?” he said, and she didn’t think it was a complete joke.

  Even if it was, Millie turned the tables on him and gave him a quick peck on the mouth. The kind of kiss that screamed of familiarity and possibly previous occurrences of sex and more sex.

  Millie started toward her mother with the “dead man walking” mantra going through her head. The kiss, however, had seemingly robbed Laurie Jean of her fuming temper tantrum, and her mother stood there, wide-eyed and shocked.

  “You kissed him,” Laurie Jean said. “You kissed that man.”

  Millie was certain that any and every curse word she’d ever used wasn’t as filthy sounding as her mother’s “that man.”

  “Joe,” Millie provided, and because she’d seen his full name in some of the research she’d done, she added, “Joe Cooper McCann.”

  Of course, Millie instantly regretted her snark, and it backfired at it usually did. She could see her mother gearing up for one of her classic explosions. One that Millie normally would have just endured and weathered on any other day.

  But today was not that day.

  “Is everything okay between Dad and you?” Millie threw out there.

  If there’d been a picture of a big sail suddenly losing the wind, it would have been the exact metaphor to describe her mother’s expression. The anger vanished. Wide eyes returned. And she appeared to be trying to use laser vision to see inside Millie’s head.

  “Why do you ask?” There was plenty of caution, and concern, in her mother’s tone now.

  Millie sorted through some possible answers and went with, “I’ve heard some things.”

  Laurie Jean gasped. It was a deep cut, and Millie was pretty sure she was going to have to do some bloodletting to get to the truth.

  “Are people gossiping about me?” Her mother flattened her hand on her chest, and her fingers were trembling. So was her mouth.

  And dang it, Millie wasn’t immune to those reactions. That’s why she tamped down some of the bile. Something she always ended up doing around her mother, but this time, it felt as if the tamping was the right thing to do.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?” Millie pleaded. “Are you in some kind of trouble? Just tell me,” she added when her mother didn’t say anything.

  Laurie Jean stood there for several long stewing moments. Perspiration glistened on her face. She turned a little red, and Millie was ready to catch on to her arm and try to force her to sit down. But Laurie Jean must have realized Millie’s “nefarious” plan because she stepped back and gave Millie a hard stare.

  “Is that man, Joe, the one who’s doing this to me?” Laurie Jean spat out, and the venom was back.

  Millie stared back at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Is he the one trying to ruin my life?” she said as if the answer were obvious. “Is he the one who wants money?”

  It took Millie a moment to realize her mother had likely just confirmed there was a blackmailer. And that Laurie Jean thought that blackmailer was Joe.

  “Joe isn’t doing anything to you,” Millie said, trying to make herself sound like the voice of reason—something her mother clearly wasn’t. “But someone obviously is. Why is someone trying to blackmail you?”

  Millie figured this could go two ways. Her mother could start crying and collapse into her arms or she could have one of her tirades. Laurie Jean went with door number two.

  “You stay out of it,” Laurie Jean warned her.

  Millie ignored that warning and went with an offer that she figured Laurie Jean wouldn’t appreciate. “Mom, tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  Nope. She didn’t appreciate it one bit. The anger flared in her eyes.

  “You can help. By never seeing that man again.” Laurie Jean flung her index finger toward the barn and started for her car. She said the rest of her rant with her back turned to Millie. “Joe Cooper McCann and his sister are trying to ruin our family, and you’re letting them do it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JOE PULLED INTO the parking lot of the motorcycle repair shop that sat at the very end of Main Street. Unlike some of the other businesses in Last Ride, it didn’t have a catchy name like Three Sheets, Once Upon a Time, Ink, Etc. or Petal Pusher. In fact, the shop didn’t have a name at all.

  When Tanner had bought the place about eight years ago, he’d had the previous name, Ace Repairs, painted over and hadn’t added anything other than a second coat of flat white paint. Members of the Last Ride Society were always trying to remedy that by suggesting names and some kind of exterior adornments that would add “class.” In fact, the last suggestion he’d heard was Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Alma had tacked on the idea of Tanner making a wine and reading room in the corner of the large repair bay.

  The shop was still white, still had no name and it definitely didn’t have a wine/reading room. Joe was sure that suited Tanner just fine. He had painted over his upper-class upbringing the way he had Ace Repairs.

  Joe drove to the back of the repair bay where there was a large vertical sliding door that would allow him to pull in his truck to get the motorcycle when it was ready. The door was closed now, so ducking from the drizzle that had just started, Joe went back around front to go in the main entrance. The sign on the door was turned to Closed since it was already past five, but Tanner had called Joe and told him to come on by, that he’d be working until he’d finished changing out the parts on the Harley.

  Joe stepped inside the small waiting area and spotted one of Tanner’s mechanics, Rico Donnelly, coming out of the repair bay. Joe didn’t bother to clamp down on the scowl, his usual reaction to Rico who’d been the bad boy of Last Ride long before Tanner had played around with that particular title.

  Tanner had settled down, some, but from everything Joe had heard, Rico was
still going strong in his own bad boy sort of way. Three ex-wives, a son from each of them, and a string of women who seemed to favor those bad boy looks. The tight white T-shirt, low riding jeans and the assortment of tats and piercings that showed off his interests and personality. A dirt bike complete with flying mud on his right bicep. A roaring tiger on his left.

  And a tat of Rico’s own face, sporting his usual cocky smile, on his forearm.

  Since Rico was one of Frankie’s frequent customers, Joe knew the man had ass tats with the names of women who’d likely grabbed on to said ass at one time or another. Rico had even had Frankie ink some blank hearts that could be filled in later. Obviously, Rico’s lovers didn’t consider it tacky to have such reminders of the women who’d come, and gone, before them.

  “Joe,” Rico greeted. He grinned around the cigarette that was dangling from his mouth. “Tanner’s back there.” He hitched his thumb toward the repair bay. “Hey, I heard my boy’s been hanging out with your girl.”

  Yeah, and that was the reason Joe was scowling.

  “Dara’s only thirteen,” Joe snarled. “She’s not allowed to date.”

  Rico gave a careless shrug. “He can see her without dating her.”

  Joe stared at the idiot. “Not if I have a say in it, he won’t.”

  Rico chuckled, and it was just as casual as the shrug had been. He came out from behind the counter and hefted up a toolbox from the floor. “Now, now. It won’t do any good to shelter the girl. Kids grow up. Gotta go,” Rico quickly added, maybe because he sensed he might be on the verge of getting his heart-tatted ass kicked. “I’m doing another repair job for Millie’s mom.”

  That got Joe’s attention, and Rico must have taken Joe’s intense stare as a cue that he wanted more info.

  “Laurie Jean wanted me to have a look at her car because it’s been sputtering sometimes when she starts it up,” Rico said. His tone was bragging now. “She’s always coming up with sideline repair jobs for me.” He chuckled, and that sounded like a brag, too. “And, hey, speaking of Laurie Jean, I’ve heard you’re messing around with Millie. Good for you.”