Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?
Page 16
“Why sheep?” She followed him back to the horses.
“A couple of decades ago the ranch was losing money. My folks decided to lure people with sheep instead of cattle drives. It’s an easier vacation than being on horseback twenty hours a day. We’re reinventing it again as a singles retreat.”
“I should be calling you Shepherd.” She flashed him a quick grin.
“Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned over so his warm breath caressed her ear. “But that brings to mind a scrawny boy playing the flute for an audience of ruminant mammals. I’m much manlier than that.”
She turned to meet his lips, but before she got there, Lady’s barking changed. He stepped away and peered off into the distance. “Get on Mystic. I thought everyone was going to be at the south pasture, but it looks like they’re coming here. Let’s go!”
Ainsley flung herself onto her horse and galloped after Riley, her body crying at the missed opportunity. They rode to a cabin idyllically placed with a small, calm stream in front. A long, steep mountain loomed immediately on the other side. A few aspens dotted the landscape and a big spruce provided the cabin with some shade. The sun shone brightly on the water, creating silver among the blue. Though they could wade in the stream, the other side met the mountains with very little shore in between. She inhaled, the crisp mountain air filling her lungs.
“That escarpment is why the ranch is called Crescent Ridge,” Riley said, pointing to the sharply rising land. She shielded her eyes to see a ridge with a definite crescent shape looming over them. “If we had turned right instead of going straight at the pine trees, we would be up there instead.”
“It’s lovely,” Ainsley said as she dismounted. He relieved the horses of their supplies before releasing them to graze, then headed toward the pine cabin with the cooler. “Can we eat outside instead?”
A slow, wicked grin danced across his lips, taunting her already-aware nerve endings and making her woozy. They spread the blankets between the cabin and the stream under the large spruce. Riley took out the food and her eyes were drawn to the grace of his solid body. They feasted on sandwiches and corn chips. Eating lunch became a study of concentration as she tried to focus on the sandwich and not the man in front of her.
“If my mother could see me now,” she said. “She hates anything outdoors. Anything where she might get dirty or ruin her manicure.”
“She doesn’t help you at your flower shop?” Riley popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth.
“She doesn’t help me with anything other than primping me up and parading me around eligible bachelors in order to stay relevent in high society.” She avoided looking at Riley as she shuffled through the remnants of their lunch to find a lid to one of the containers.
“Like Edward.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes away from Riley's face as she snapped the container closed, and waited for his reaction. Sometimes men became intimidated when they found out she came from money. It didn't matter that she never used any of it for herself.
When he didn’t say anything, she snuck a glance at him. Propped up on one elbow with his other arm stretched out over a bent knee, he looked sexy and smoldering and she really needed to get a hold of herself. He was studying her as if reconciling her mother’s expectations with Ainsley’s personality. “When you said earlier that your sister was supposed to be here, that was because of your mother?”
“Some of it.” She put another empty container together. She wanted to be honest, but didn’t know how much to reveal.
He watched her pack their lunch, amusement covering his face when she tried to pick up the blanket he was laying on. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning up before we leave.”
“Who said we were leaving?” His rich timbre touched a place deep in her core, thrilling her and scaring her all at once.
“You want to stay here?”
“As long as you’re staying, too,” he said.
So he didn't care about her family's money. “Oh, good.” She kneeled on the blanket and leaned her back against his chest, enveloped by his warmth and comfort and a hint of what she could have. The lapping water provided a soundtrack for the hawks that soared overhead. His hand slid down her arm, giving her a jolt that went right between her legs. She gasped at the unexpected feelings coursing over her, through her, in her. Her arousal needed to be satisfied. Part of her screamed it was too soon, that she should get to know him more, but she’d known this was going to happen between them when he had slowed down his galloping horse on the way to fix the sink that first night. His lips trailed kisses along her cheek until they claimed hers. She turned into him, pressing herself against him while her hands found his muscular shoulders. He drew her down until they lay prone on the blanket, his body like granite beneath her. Her loose curls fell around his face and he moved his hands to hold them back. For a moment she thought he might speak, but his hazel eyes turned simmering gold with wanting and she lost herself in their depths. She tried to catch her breath, tried to slow her erratic pulse, but the onslaught of her awakened nerve-endings overwhelmed any rational thought. She kissed him again.
His hands caressed her back and lower onto her bottom, pressing her closely against him a moment before he rolled them over. Her hands roamed freely over his back, feeling the hard muscles strain under her fingers. He nuzzled at her ear. “You smell so good. Like sugar cookies.”
The warm tickle of his breath sent a tingle straight to her breasts, and her nipples tightened against him as a surprised huff of laughter escaped her. You want him, her inner voice said. The humor fled as quickly as it had come and reason replaced it. Out loud she mumbled, “Wait. Stop.”
He drew back, confusion replacing the desire in his eyes. Throwing herself back into his arms was definitely more appealing than what she had to say. “I want to make it clear—whatever we do here. This is not…I mean, I don’t…” She gritted her teeth. How to say this without sounding like an overeager slut? “I’m not expecting any kind of commitment from you.”
His eyes darted to the side and he rolled completely off her, leaving her cold where he had touched her. Ainsley realized commitment had never crossed his mind. At least he had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I should take you back to the ranch.”
Her blood screamed in her veins and she obeyed its command. “No. We’re staying here.” She straddled him, his erection pulsing beneath her, and splayed her hands on his chest. Leaning down, she whispered, “Very sweet of you to offer, though. Your mother must have raised you right.”
A growl rose in his throat. “My mother raised me to take what I want and the rest of it be damned. And right now, I want you.”
He moved so swiftly that Ainsley found herself beneath him again before she could say a word. His mouth moved along the column of her throat and down her shirt, agonizingly slow, until it reached a taut peak. He exhaled, hot air cascading over her breast, and a moan of pleasure escaped her.
Too many clothes. She fumbled at the hem of his shirt to get that skin-to-skin contact, to feel his rigid torso against her soft belly. All she wanted was to be naked beneath him.
A low chuckle came from deep in his throat, the rumbling zinging new sensations over her. Kneeling beside her, he lifted her shirt with agonizing slowness, exposing an inch of flesh at a time. Her stomach quivered under his intense gaze until she grabbed the material herself and flung it over her head, then reached for his buttons with trembling fingers. An ache of primal need blinded her to everything except having this beautiful man as he shrugged out his shirt. He lightly skimmed the two freckles above her breast, then slid his hands down to hold her by the hips.
“Touch me,” he whispered, his voice a physical caress that tugged at her heart. She stroked his chest, her nails causing his nipples to pebble, and he sucked in a quick breath but he held himself still. She lowered her hand and ran a finger between his heated torso and the top of his jeans before she unbuttoned them.
Still way too many clothes.
His other hand glided around her back and freed her breasts from their restraint. She shimmied out of her bra and his head lowered to catch one aroused peak in his mouth, licking and sucking while his hand gently skimmed her other breast, the dual sensations lighting a fire in her blood. She thrust her hips against him, a desperate fervor spiking through her at his sharp intake of breath.
His talented lips moved to her other breast while one long finger glided along the waistband of her jeans. Her body throbbed in anticipation of his touch. His fingers inched down the outside her clothes until they rested at the juncture between her legs and she moaned as awareness spread over her being. He flicked his fingers over the tight jeans, each small movement sparking darts of delicious shocks. The pressure and his pace, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, coaxed her body to lose control and she raised her hips, eager and wanting the final push that he gave, sending her tight muscles into a frenzy before leaving her breathless and dizzy with pleasure.
* * *
Pure masculine satisfaction thrummed through his blood as Ainsley’s body went limp against him, her breath ragged. He tucked her under his shoulder, the rapid beat of her heart pounding against his bare chest. Her hand inched down his torso. Blazing hunger shot through him, but it was more than solely physical need. She captivated him on a personal level, too, and he didn’t want that. He had no desire to have any woman permanently in his life. “I want you. Naked and writhing in my arms.” He breathed in her ear and stilled her hand with his own, enjoying the trembling that coursed over her body and the small moan that escaped her mouth. “But not here. When I take you, it’ll be all night.”
Chapter 9
Ainsley clutched Riley’s hand so hard it might lose circulation, but she needed his strength as they approached the house a half hour late for dinner. She ran her other fingers through her hair to get the tangles out before they hashed it out with the crowd, trying to hide all traces of their afternoon.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She stopped the movement and offered him a shy smile before he opened the door and followed her into the kitchen, one hand resting lightly at the small of her back. Hopefully no one would notice they were a little late.
They noticed.
Half-full plates sat in front of each woman. Openly hostile glares raked over Ainsley before shifting to Riley with sweet smiles and innocent eyes. Only Meagan’s smile looked genuine. Molly’s displeasure stood out in her narrowed eyes, though she struggled to speak with a guise of indifference. “You’re late.”
“I’m so sorry, Molly,” Ainsley said.
“We lost track of time,” he added to shoulder the blame. “The afternoon activities took longer than anticipated.”
She eyed the hot turkey and a bowl of stuffing, the bready fragrance making her stomach tighten. “Dinner looks delicious.”
“I hope you like it cold,” Jewel snapped. Ainsley pressed her lips together and said nothing more. The other woman threw her napkin on the table and stalked out of the room.
“Well,” said Jeanne, and Ainsley flinched when she spoke. “I hope at least you had a fun day?”
Hopefully she asked out of politeness and not because of any emotions on his face. She swallowed before answering. “Yes.”
“All right, then. Grab a plate,” Molly said.
Riley handed Ainsley a plate and she slid into a seat next to Meagan. The stilted conversation picked up again. Ainsley sneaked a peak at Riley. His sexy glint gave her a solid kick in her gut and she squirmed, the memory of their hot afternoon still imprinted on her body.
Only the remnants of the turkey and a few crumbs of stuffing were left when the doorbell rang and the Pommers exchanged glances. Molly excused herself to answer it.
“Oh, for the love of a hat rack,” Ainsley muttered when she saw Edward. She hid behind her hand, knowing it was futile but making the attempt anyway. It would make too big a scene if she tried to slide under the table.
“Darling!” Edward rushed to her side, nearly knocking over her water glass in his haste to be next to her. His pants were wrinkled from travel, but the knot in his striped purple tie and neatly combed hair showed he’d spruced himself up before he arrived at the house. Not that it mattered. “I came straight here from the airport.”
“Why?” she asked the table from behind her hand shield.
“Why?” His normally smooth and cultured voice sounded higher and laced with a desperation she had never heard from him. His eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on her head, like a puppy to be trained and led. “To take you home with me.”
She squirmed away from his touch. “Not why did you come here. I meant, why me?”
Feminine chatter filtered into her ears, most of which sounded like “she already has a boyfriend” and “what is she doing here, anyway?” She closed her eyes, hoping Edward would disappear when she opened them.
“The accountant?” Riley asked stiffly from the head of the table.
She nodded. “Edward, please go home.” She peeked through her fingers. He was still there, solid and irritating and thickheaded. “Pretty please?”
“Sweetheart, you can’t possibly expect me to believe you’d rather stay and work on a ranch with odiferous animals than come home with me,” Edward stated.
She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds to keep from screaming. “What about Cecelia?”
Anguish flashed through his eyes and he closed them. When he opened them, they held stone-cold determination and his voice was back to its practiced normalcy. “I have to admit I was a bit thrown when she showed up on the cruise instead of you, but don’t worry. She could never come between us.”
“I want her to come between us.”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would you want that?” He knelt beside her and took one of her hands. “You’re perfect for me, Ainsley. I couldn’t imagine my life without someone like you.”
He continued talking but she blocked him out, her mind swirling with ways of getting him to leave from threatening him with her butter knife to feigning amnesia. Maybe she could strangle him with her napkin.
Riley spoke before she had a plan of action. “You heard the lady. Go home.”
“Riley, please. I can handle this,” she said. As well as she’d been handling it for the past few years. Which was not at all. The man was driven by the passions of her mother and the way he thought his life should be and nothing she said ever filtered into his dense skull. This time, however, she might be able to distract him with thoughts of her sister.
“You the self-important waddy who thinks he can steal my girl from me?” Edward rose, squaring his soft shoulders with his hands tightening into fists. He flicked a quick glance at Ainsley. His eyes held a firm resolve, but behind that shield was the pain of desperation.
He didn’t want to be there as much as she didn’t want him. “Edward, I’m not—” she started.
Riley rose slowly and stood so his chair was between him and Edward. “I’m the waddy who knows what the lady wants, the lady gets. And right now, she wants you gone.”
Ainsley stood up, too. “Riley, you—”
“You’re wasting your time, Cowboy. Ainsley belongs with me,” Edward said, reaching for her hand.
She plastered it to the table. “I don’t—”
“Ainsley belongs wherever she thinks she belongs, Hayseed,” Riley said calmly.
She pushed back her chair and stalked out of the house, letting the two men vent their testosterone-fueled discussion without her in the audience. It really wasn’t about her, anyway. She continued to her cabin, muttering. “Of all the high-handed, possess
ive, idiotic things.” She slammed the door to let out her frustration, but it wasn’t enough. Sofa cushions took the brunt of her animosity as she threw them around the room. She didn’t notice Meagan until her roommate hung up the phone.
“We’re going out,” she announced.
Ainsley stood amid the overturned cushions, panting with the exertion of working off her anger. “Where?”
“Cookie told me of a bar in the next town called Shy Ann’s. We can go there, dance, blow off some steam. One of the ranch hands makes extra money shuttling guests into town, so he’s going to drive us and we can call him when we’re ready to come home.”
“Wow. There’s something to do here after dark? I’m impressed.” Ainsley took in the scattered furniture and nodded. “I’m in.”
The two women trekked the distance to the ranch entrance where they met the worker. It was a quick jaunt, and Ainsley started to feel better after her adrenaline flowed out of her.
“I’ve always wanted to ride a mechanical bull,” Meagan said.
“Really?” Ainsley asked.
“No,” her roommate said. “But now that I’ve heard about it, it seems like fun.”
Ainsley took her friend’s hands. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. Parts of this so-called vacation would’ve been horrible if I had to go through it alone.”
The twenty-minute cab ride ended in a dirt parking lot filled with cars and trucks next to an old red building with white columns supporting the eaves. A painted yellow sign with a brown bison proclaimed the place was Shy Ann’s. The weathered wooden stairs popped and cracked with each step they took to the porch, and Ainsley was half afraid the boards would split beneath their weight. Meagan pulled open an old, banged-up six-panel door. Loud music vibrated the air and thick smoke distorted Ainsley’s vision. They scooted around the lowered wooden dance floor centered in the room and headed toward the bar. Couples danced choreographed steps, the twang of country music amplified in the small room. After getting a couple of beers, the two women sat and inspected the other people at the bar.