Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?

by Abigail Sharpe

  “It’s the fabulous financial management software we use at the vineyard,” Leigh said, smiling at him.

  “And we need it why?” Molly asked, her voice still sharp.

  Ainsley’s phone took that opportunity to ring, and everyone stared at her. “Sorry,” she mumbled, turning it off. “My mother. I’ll call her later.”

  “You sure it’s not your boyfriend?” Jewel muttered. Ainsley stabbed her casserole with more force than necessary, but she didn’t answer the other woman.

  Leigh beamed at Riley and nodded her encouragement. He swallowed, buying time. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, and figured she’d be gone before she realized he had mentioned the software only to keep the conversation off Ainsley. He waited too long, and Leigh answered for him. “You can use it to analyze your financial data and plot your future growth and reinvestment.”

  “Again, I ask, why?” Molly’s voice rose a couple of octaves.

  “Molly, can we discuss it later?” Riley asked, sweeping his gaze meaningfully toward the company at the table.

  His sister’s lips tightened but she said nothing more.

  Soon the meal was over, but there hadn’t been time to ask Ainsley to meet him later tonight. He had tried to catch her eye several times, but was never able to do it. Seth was okay and her buffoon of a—whatever he was—had left. Her cheeks flushed, like she knew his thoughts, and brushed her napkin across her lips. Maybe his family had been on to something with this whole singles thing. Not that he’d admit it to them.

  Even if he refused to put a name on it.

  She scurried away after dinner to play cards. He watched her go, then left the house to drive into town. He wanted to buy her a gift, give her something when he asked her to stay. To show her how well he knew her. And then when he was sure everyone had settled down in bed, he’d sneak over to her cabin and spend the night with her. If he could get past Meagan. No interruptions. No ranch emergencies. No frantic phone calls from their families. Just the two of them together, making it take all night.

  When he returned, he finally finished Montgomery’s paperwork, sealed it in an envelope and placed it on the kitchen counter. Then he returned to his office, watching for movement over the ranch grounds. No stalking bachelorettes waiting in the bushes next to the house or in the trees by the stables or on the benches in the herb garden. He grabbed the present and crept out the mud room door to her cabin and rapped on her window, his foot tapping in eager impatience. When she didn’t answer, he knocked again. Maybe she was in the common room. He’d have to think of something to say to Meagan.

  Oh, no need. She drew back the curtain and folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Not quite the greeting he’d expected. Maybe she was mad that he’d left to take care of Seth. “I wanted to see you.” He kept his voice flat until he could figure out what was going on.

  She drew the curtains and he put the gift on the ground beside her cabin before walking around to the front door. With this new attitude of hers, he wasn’t sure she’d want it. Stepping inside, he handed her the purse she’d left in his truck, then took off his hat and ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes darting anywhere but at her. She kept her hands occupied by fingering the neckline of her light blue robe and sat on the sofa, one leg tucked underneath her body, and waited.

  He focused on her roommate’s closed door. “Shouldn’t we go into your room? Meagan might see me.”

  “She’s out,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t offer him any more information. And it wasn’t his business. But why was she acting so cold and standoffish? He sat on the other end of the sofa and studied the cabin, then stood up again and wandered to the kitchen. The bouquet from Edward sat on the counter and he reached for it, but he shoved his hands in his pockets instead and came back to the common room, still avoiding her eyes. “You know none of the dishes Leigh cooked used the onions you cut,” he said, just to have something to say. His voice broke the stillness like shattering glass.

  She cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize that.”

  He leaned into the sofa and rotated his hat between his hands. He wanted to tell her he liked her, that she was exciting and sexy and made him feel good, but her silence spoke to him more loudly than her words ever could. Whatever he was feeling, she obviously wasn’t.

  “Did you come over here to talk about onions?”

  “No.” He stood up again and paced the confines of the small room. “Where exactly is Meagan?”

  “Cowboy—”

  Oh, no. If this detached demeanor was her way of breaking things off, she didn’t get to call him by a nickname. Whatever he was thinking must have shown on his face because she stopped to take a breath and gather herself. “Okay,” she said, her voice smooth. She said nothing more.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” he said, turning on his heel.

  “You stop right there!” She jumped to her feet. He froze in front of the cabin door but didn’t turn around. “You accuse me of bragging to the other women about you, but then I find out I might not be the only one you’re playing saddle games with. Then you come to my room in the middle of the night, make some obscure comment about onions, question me and then leave? I don’t think so, mister. Why are you here?”

  No way was he going to reveal the reason, not with her accusing him of messing around. She didn’t know him at all. “You’re not serious.”

  She sagged against the wall next to him. “No. You wouldn’t do that. And I know they’re trying to stop us from… enjoying each other. But it was still hard to hear.”

  Colors swam in front of his eyes. Maybe she did know him. And that was more dangerous than he wanted. He opened his mouth but she held a finger to his lips.

  “I’m tired of Edward. I’m tired of hearing about other women or how I spell out the bedroom details of our time together. I’m tired every time you come to me with a new story about my abilities to juggle multiple men. Either you want to be with me or you don’t, Cowboy. Listen to the other women if you like, or listen to the truth. Your choice.”

  He grasped the finger pressed against him while his eyes bore into hers. She swallowed, but held his gaze. With a sharp exhale, he drew her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on it before he growled his surrender and pulled her against him. His other hand on the back of her neck kept her head still as his lips commanded hers.

  “This is not a distraction,” she gasped.

  “No,” Riley agreed. “This is real.” Dammit.

  He swung her around, his mouth caressing hers until her back bumped the cabin door, and anchored her with his muscled thighs. She pushed herself against him, forcing the kiss deeper, his hardness rubbing her through his tight jeans. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, molding herself to him. Her hands stroked his shoulders, the silk shirt burning his skin where she touched him. “Oh, no, no, no. This won’t do,” she said.

  He lifted his head and stepped away, palms up, his breathing ragged. Stopping was harder than he wanted it to be, but he took a quick second to clear his head of lust. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Leigh was right at breakfast. This shirt does look fabulous on you. Take it off.”

  She reached for the buttons but Riley nearly ripped the offending garment in his haste to remove it.

  Grasping his hand, she led him into the bedroom. As soon as she closed the door, Riley reclaimed her mouth, holding her in his large hands while his tongue tasted her lips before delving between them. He untied her bathrobe, then nuzzled the two freckles on her chest before he straightened, watching her intently as he slowly slid her robe off her shoulders, revealing a green tank top and a pair of boxers. The sexiness of the simplistic outfit sent his blood into overdrive and he took a moment to savor the sight of her.

  Heat rose up her neck to her cheeks. She wrenched the bathrobe from his grip and flipped it back up, covering her body. “It’s not like I was
expecting you,” she muttered, crossing her arms to keep the robe closed.

  “You look lovely, Ainsley,” he said.

  She squirmed under his scrutiny, but let her arms fall to her sides. He grasped the edges of the robe and pulled, encasing them both in a cocoon of heat.

  His kissed a trail of fire from her mouth to her neck and she moaned. This time she didn’t stop him when he slid her robe completely off her shoulders. It puddled on the floor by her feet.

  Riley took her hands and led her to the bed, never removing his lips from her soft skin. He fell backward and pulled her with him, securing his arms around her back. Her halo of hair curtained his face, the loose curls brushing against his jaw, enticing him to wind his fingers through its golden softness.

  A groan escaped from deep in his throat when Ainsley wiggled her body against his. She grinned down at him, her playful look daring him to stop her, then straddled him and grasped the hem of her green shirt, slowly revealing her smooth stomach and beautiful breasts and the freckles that had drawn his attention like an arrow pointing the way to paradise. Riley twisted his hands in the bed sheet to prevent himself from helping her finish and she moved even slower. As soon as the shirt was off, he reached up to caress her naked breasts. Her nipples tightened against his palms and he rose to take a hard peak into his mouth.

  “Oh, God, Riley.” Ainsley sucked in her breath as his teeth nibbled at her. Then he switched his attention to her other breast while his hands roamed freely over her back. She squirmed, the erotic movement sending ripples of fire through his veins. Never had anyone felt more right in his arms. He held her tightly against him and she leaned in to his neck, breaking the contact of his lips on her breast as she nipped the skin, then lapped at it. She spread her hands on his bare chest, her palms quivering over the smooth, hard planes.

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  Those words were almost enough to break Riley’s control. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her beneath him, wanting her just as much. Her breasts flattened against his chest and he sought her lips, letting her feel all of his passion.

  He nibbled at her neck as he made his way down to her breasts, this time taking the whole nipple in his mouth and lavishing it with his tongue while gently sucking, his hand playing with her other breast. Ainsley drew a quick breath and sank her fingers through his hair, the small thrusts of her pelvis and little mewling noises escaping her throat encouraging him to continue.

  Riley raised his heavy-lidded eyes to her widened ones before he trailed his mouth to her other breast. Her hips lifted against his in response. He kissed a trail with his lips to her navel, savoring every inch of her flesh along the way. She held nothing back, writhing at his touch.

  His large hand palmed her through her boxers. One finger slipped inside the boxer’s leg opening and flicked against her glorious wetness. Several times.

  “Oh, God,” she cried out, thrusting against him. “Don't stop.”

  Her muscles tightened around his hand, but he removed it before giving her the final satisfaction. A low, chuckle escaped his throat. “Patience, Fairfax.”

  She groaned. His fingers hooked the waistband of her boxers and slowly slid them down her legs, kissing her exposed torso until she lay naked before him. He rolled off the mattress and kicked off his boots, then shucked his clothes and with a quick grin, took a condom out of his pocket. She studied his hard, solid body and shivered.

  The heat in her eyes urged him to take her quickly, but he held back, wanting to savor every touch, every look, every breath. “Scoot up,” he whispered hoarsly, crawling into the bed beside her.

  She did as he said and he splayed one questing hand over her thighs, moving slowly, closer, closer, to that one spot that would make her scream. When he found it, she arched her back, the moan low in her throat. He removed his finger and held her in place with the pressure of his hips while he slowly entered her. He set the primal rhythm, moving his pelvis slowly back and forth, and she matched every move. “You feel so good,” he muttered against her neck.

  He pushed up on his hands to look down at her. Her golden hair spread over the pillow, and he needed to touch it. He wrapped his hands through the tumbled strands, the silk of it caressing his fingers. Words were lost as Riley increased the pace of his thrusts and Ainsley kept up with his pace, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breathing coming in short gasps until her body spasmed beneath him. Driven by the aftershocks quivering through her, he shuddered through his own release. Gradually their breathing slowed and he managed to move off her and gather her in his arms.

  “Wow,” she breathed, and his rumbling laughter vibrated in his chest. That was a good way of describing it. “I think that was worth waiting for.” They lay in silence, basking in the afterglow until she spoke again. “We have only one more night, Riley. Don’t leave. Spend tonight with me.”

  He tensed at her words, but then nodded. One more night to convince her to stay at the ranch. He brushed his lips against her cheek and shifted so he lay on top of her, cradling her body with the length of his. Until someone knocked on the cabin door.

  “Leave it,” he whispered, kissing her neck, inhaling that sweet vanilla scent. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight, tilting her head back.

  The knocking continued, became more insistent, and Ainsley groaned in resignation. “I’ll be right back.”

  “No. Stay.”

  She wiggled out from under his arms and he rolled away from her. She pulled on her robe and he listened to the sound of her footsteps going to the cabin door. The pace was much faster when she returned. The door slammed against the wall as she burst into the bedroom, kicking his shirt in from the common room.

  “My mother.” Ainsley picked up his jeans from the floor and tossed them to him. “She’s here. You have to go. Out the window.” She picked up her bra, then threw it in her closet along with her robe and pulled on her tank top instead.

  “Ainsley?” Her mother’s voice was followed by more knocking.

  “Be right out!”

  Riley sidestepped the tornado of clothing, but he lowered his voice. “We’re not teenagers hiding from our parents, Fairfax. What’s wrong with me meeting her?”

  “No. No no no no no.” She thrust his shirt into his arms, then spun him toward the window with a little push.

  “Hey. Wait.”

  She stopped her frantic movements, standing in front of him in her tank top and panties. She would have looked damn sexy if nervousness and apprehension hadn’t covered her face. “You don’t know her. She’ll come in here if I wait much longer.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, then leaned in close. “Would that be a bad thing?”

  She glanced at the closed door. “I just can’t handle both of you right now. Please, Riley.”

  The hell? “I didn’t realize I had to be handled.” He scooped up his shirt and opened the window.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Ainsley!” Annoyance tinged her mother’s voice. The woman apparently didn’t know the meaning of the word patience.

  He unscrewed the screen until it came off. “When you figure out what you do mean, let me know.”

  He paused in his underwear outside her window, gripping his jeans and shirt. A boot sailed through the air and he dodged it, but the second one hit him in the ass. The window slammed shut. How dignified.

  Gritting his teeth, he let his shirt fall and pulled on his jeans. Why did she feel the need to hide him from her affluent family? Shame, embarrassment that she was involved with a man who sweated and got dirty every day instead of getting manicures and wearing a tie? He didn’t know what he’d been thinking before. If she could have been engaged to someone like Edward, no way would she fit in with his life on the ranch. She’d probably laugh at his attempt to give her something he thought she’d love when she really wanted of diamonds and pearls. After playing cowgirl at the Crescent Ridge, she’d go back to her high-qual
ity life and white collar fiancé and he’d be nothing but a vacation fling.

  Heaviness took over his body, leaving a tightness in his chest. One problem with that: He wanted her to stay. And he had one more day to convince her he was worth it.

  Chapter 11

  With her heart beating a nervous rhythm loud enough to be used as a metronome, Ainsley slipped into the common room to properly greet her mother. And, for the love of a pizza, Edward sat on the sofa, looking decidedly uncomfortable. The sight of him only strengthened the stirring inside her that hinted she could be losing her heart to Riley. And losing her shop to her mother. If she hadn't already. And what the hell was Edward even doing here again?

  He rose when she entered, panic flashing in his light blue eyes. She hadn’t seen him in the brief second when she first opened the cabin door but she was ready to cut him down if he even thought about again proclaiming some misguided love for her. A frown covered her mother’s face from her plucked eyebrows to her chin.

  “What are you doing here, Mother?”

  “When you didn’t come home with Edward, I thought for sure you were being held captive. How could you want to stay in this tiny town and work with farm animals instead of going home with him? I had to come and see for myself that you were here willingly, although God knows why.” Sophia studied her daughter from the top of her hair to her bare toes. “It’s a comfort to see that you’re all right.”

  Ainsley had been much more all right before her mother had shown up. “Why wouldn’t I be?” The euphoric relaxation she had experienced after being with Riley faded into nothingness, and her stomach churned instead. She kissed her mother’s cheek, enveloped in her floral perfume, hating how passively she accepted her mother’s invasion of her time and space. A wicked idea formed and she grinned at Edward. “Have you talked to Cecelia?”

  Two red spots brightened his pale cheeks and he cast a quick glance at Sophia. Was it panic? Nervousness? “Not tonight,” he mumbled. Silence followed, which Ainsley was perfectly happy to let happen while she fought to keep her mouth straight. After all, she hadn’t invited her mother to Wyoming. She waited.