by Wendi Darlin
“You’ve been having your way with me?” Her heart pounded and her body flushed from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.
His thumb traced the quiver in the corner of her mouth. “So many ways with you.”
She leaned closer. “Kiss me one more time,” she whispered. “Like you would have kissed me last night.”
His arms slipped around her waist and his head dipped to her neck trailing kisses into the V of her robe. His mouth sank into the soft flesh of her breast and moved to her nipple. She cried out as he swirled his tongue over the sensitive knot of flesh. He stood replacing his mouth with his hand and led her tongue in a dance with his that left her seeping with need.
“I’ll bet you’re an amazing lover,” she said as he stilled his lips but kept them at hers, barely touching.
“I hope you’ll think so.”
A shiver zipped up her spine. She wanted to find out. In the wake of what they’d shared, and the heat of his kiss, none of her reasons for holding back held an ounce of rationale. It was time. Past time. She took his hand to coax him into her room. “Show me,” she said.
* * * *
Marge held the phone away from her ear as Chet swore.
“I need something concrete,” he said. “Something that I can shove so far up their asses their lawyers can’t pull it out.”
She gripped the stem of her glass. Wine for breakfast. Again. Her bones jarred with every one of her nephew’s words. “I don’t think there’s anything illegal going on here.”
Chet snorted. “Let me do the thinking!” For the next few seconds she could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “Alright here’s what you’re going to do. Make sure that cowboy of yours is in your room tonight. Late. Do whatever you have to do to keep him there. I’ll round up the whole ranch and have them locked up before sunrise.”
“Clayton won’t do anything. He wouldn’t.”
“He don’t have to. If he’s in your room I’ll have enough probable cause to get a search warrant and confiscate the cabin surveillance videos, and you can bet your saggin’ ass we’ll find all the proof we need.”
“But…”
“Just do what I told you to do. Make sure he’s in your room. And don’t forget who’s footin’ the bill for you to play like the rich and famous for a week.”
* * * *
“The leather smith can put your name or initials on anything you want,” Gavin said as he and Rebecca entered the barn.
“Like being branded.” She made her way toward the rack of belts. “Just what a woman needs.” She couldn’t shake the weight of rejection. She didn’t know much about casual sex, but she damn well knew she shouldn’t have to beg for it. Not even from a hottie like Gavin.
“If you were being branded I’d have him put my initials on there.” His fingers brushed her collarbone. “What’s wrong? What’d I do? You liked me last night and even for a little while this morning. Now you don’t.” He leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. “I told you I want nothing more than to peel every stitch of clothing off your body and taste every square inch of you. But I can’t. Not yet. For both our sakes.”
The sound of his voice vibrated through her. Goose bumps rose on her skin and a flash of heat snatched them back. She hated herself for being too weak to control the effect he had on her, even now that she had slapped herself in the face with the reality of what he meant. She had started to believe his feelings for her were real, but there were definite lines he wouldn’t cross. Rules he wouldn’t break. He was just playing the game. He wouldn’t even come into her room, like there was a sensor wired to his belt and he’d get shocked in the dick if he tried to cross the threshold.
She nudged him playfully and tried to act like she hadn’t been a fool. “You’d brand me? You think I’m a cow?”
“You’re the one who wanted a belt. There are some perfectly nice key chains over there.” He pointed toward the rack of dangling leather patches like he was serious.
“Pick one out for me,” she said, nodding toward the belts. And just that easily she was enjoying his company again. “Let’s see if you have any taste or if you’re just a smooth-tongued devil who’d wear socks with sandals.”
He ran his hand through a line of belts and pulled out one with an antiqued finish and a running design of wavy vines with cowboy hats peeking from behind heart-shaped leaves.
“You think I’m twelve?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “A twelve-year-old cow?” He was so easy to play with, like Cowboy Ken with a brain and a voice box. Ranch and limousine sold separately.
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, a glimmer of light flashed in his eyes. She caught her breath. There was something on his mind, and whatever it was, she was pretty sure she would like it. He could tease her anytime, as long as she didn’t try wrapping her heart around anything he did.
He slid the belt around her waist and tugged both ends jerking her forward until she braced her hands against his chest.
“I think they’d all look good on you,” he said, pulling just enough to keep steady tension between them.
Outside, rain fell like a curtain in front of the open barn door and several feet of the wood floor was stained with wetness. The overhead lights cast a dull yellow glow over the hay and the varying browns of the leather for sale. The rhythm of the rain and the muted colors surrounding them became the background she knew her memory would play anytime she thought back to her week at the ranch. And then she realized the most distinguishable beat of all was Gavin’s heart beneath her hands.
“I’ll take it.” She gave into her smile. “Amazing how you can call a woman a cow and still get her to buy what you’re selling. Harvard must have a darn good marketing program.”
“Want your initials on it?” He pulled the belt a little more, but she held herself back.
“Nope.” She squeezed his chest. “Yours.”
He raised his brows. He hadn’t expected that. Maybe he wasn’t used to women who could play a game as well as he could.
“I always play fair,” she said. “I roped you. I’ll let you brand me.”
The heat in his eyes warmed her. The steady pull of the belt against her back only fueled the fire. Another guest began working her way through the rack next to them. Gavin dropped one side of the belt releasing the tension so Rebecca could step back and lift the leather from his hand. Her fingers brushed his palm and his hand closed around hers. The barn suddenly felt very crowded. Cowboys and guests milling about shot glances in their direction.
“Let’s get you branded, before we start a rumor.” His voice was low, meant only for her, reminding her of how he’d sounded on the phone. The muscles in her thighs tightened and a frantic tingle danced between her legs. Why couldn’t he be real?
A few minutes later the leather smith set Rebecca’s belt and custom instructions on a stack of others at the end of the table then went right back to the one he was already working on.
“He’ll take them all to the office when he’s done, and I’ll bring yours to you later,” Gavin said, walking her toward the front of the barn.
“It’s still raining. What are we going to do now?”
“I have some work I need to take care of before we go out tonight.” He reached for her hand. “Would you mind if I got that out of the way for the next couple of hours?” This was the least convincing lie he had told all week. The tendon in his neck tensed and his jaw muscle jumped. Not a good liar. And he was opting out of spending time with her. Again. Men like Scott lied. Charmed. Then lied again.
“I thought I was your job.” She didn’t bother to temper her voice.
His breath was warm on her ear, his body closer than it should have been in front of the others. “It’s pouring down rain. I don’t think we should go back to your room, and I don’t think of you as a job.”
“But if I wasn’t a job,” she whispered back, “you’d take me back to my room?”
“No. I’d take you to mine.” His hand
burned into hers, his grip tightened.
“So I guess that settles it.” The hair on the back of her neck bristled and she jerked her hand away.
“Settles what?”
“I’m a job.” She threw the words at him. “I know that. I’m the one paying you. Don’t keep lying to me to try and make me forget it. I’m not stupid enough to fall in love with you or to completely forget none of this is real. I just want to play the game.”
Gavin closed his hand around her arm and led her to the back of the barn. A couple of women had to step out of the way for them to pass, but his gait never slowed. Horses snorted and stomped in the stalls they passed. The rain echoed off the roof, and the odor of animals lingered in the air. He didn’t speak until they were well beyond earshot and completely out of sight of everyone else.
“What do you want me to do?” His voice was harsher than she’d ever heard it before. “Take you to my room, do what we both want, so I can hold you while you cry afterward. Or so you can jump on the next plane back home and wish you had never come here.”
His breath was hot on her face, his body so close she could feel the tension in his muscles. Her lip trembled. Why did he have to be so right about it? And how had she managed to twist everything around between them?
“Look…” His voice softened. He ran the back of his hand along her cheek and traced her lips with his finger. “I want to take you out tonight. I want to spend time with you, and when you’re ready - honestly ready to deal with what’s happening between us - I want to do everything with you that you can imagine. But I’m not going to take you to bed just because I can, then be the man you wished you hadn’t slept with. So, for the next couple of hours I think we need to find something to do away from your room and mine.”
“You should have said that to begin with. I told you I don’t like lies, even white ones.” She took his hands in hers. “I want to trust you.”
“Sometimes I don’t think straight when it comes to you, but you can trust me.” He raised her wrist to his lips. “And right now I’m going to go in my office and work, so I don’t drive myself crazy thinking about you. I’ll come get you for lunch. If the rain stops, I’ll come back before then. Okay?”
“Okay.” Why was this game so hard to play? All she had to do was remember that it wasn’t real. It wasn’t Gavin’s job to make her remember that. It was his job to make her forget, and he was good at his job. Too good. But the game was hers to play as hard as she wanted to play it, and she hadn’t come to Wyoming to fight with a cowboy.
“I think I’ll take a bubble bath,” she said, “and I’ll keep my phone by the tub.”
“Thanks for the visual.” His lips spread across his face. “That ought to help me keep my mind off you.”
“I’m sorry.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “For losing my temper. The bubble bath was a gift. And the phone was an invitation.”
“You’re relentless,” he said, spreading his hands over her back and planting kisses along her ear.
“So I’ve been told.” She shivered against him, but she definitely wasn’t cold.
* * * *
Lighting crashed outside and thunder rattled the tin roof of the barn. The smell of hay and animals hung heavy in the air. Down the corridor, horses snorted and stamped in their stalls. Days ago, just the thought of being closed up in a building with that many dangerous animals would have sent her into a sweat, but she felt stronger here on the ranch, less confined with limitations. Marge fingered a black leather wallet with brown whip-stitched seams.
“Go ahead,” Clayton whispered over her shoulder. “Buy it for him.”
She set the wallet back on the display case and stepped away. “I can’t.”
“Why in the world not?”
“He wouldn’t accept it.” A familiar burn settled into her chest. “He’d have to explain where he got it. He’d think I was trying to cause trouble.”
Clayton squeezed her arm. “After thirty years, I’d say you’re entitled to a little trouble.”
“His wife gets the entitlements.” Heat crept up her temples and flamed the top of her head. Good lord, where had that come from.
“And you get the raw end of the deal.” Clayton picked up the wallet and tucked it into her hand. “Give him a little hell.”
She placed the wallet back on the rack just as Gavin and Rebecca made their way toward the open barn doors. Water sheeted off the roof. Gavin picked up an umbrella from the row of them leaning against the wall and took Rebecca’s hand. She shook her head and mouthed something. The next second, he’d scooped her in his arms and she held the umbrella over them both as he carried her off into the storm.
“Fighting one minute...” Clayton whistled. “Maybe you’re right about those two.”
“My heart flips just watching them.”
“Her fate’s not any better than yours. Gavin’s a player. Probably worth playing with though.” He laughed. “Now tell me about old Harry. Is he old and hairy or still worth playing with?”
Marge giggled. “Old. Fat. And hairy. But still worth playing with.” She nodded toward the door. This trip wasn’t a freebie. She had a job to do. “Do you think they’re playing? Be honest.”
“Gavin would be stupid to let that happen. And he’s not a stupid man. Looks like they’re just having a little fun. Or getting a little frustrated with the rules around here.”
She nudged his arm and lowered her voice. “Is Garrett worth playing with?”
“Oh my God, is it that obvious?” Clayton almost snorted trying to hold back his laugh. “I wish I knew, girlfriend. I wish I knew.” He fanned himself with his hat sending a wave of cologne her way. “I’m in a worse boat than you are. He’s in a relationship, and he’s as committed as they come. Hell of a flirt though. You wouldn’t believe how he toys with me.”
Marge’s heart dropped a notch and settled like a rock low in her chest. “You don’t want to get started like that. Next thing you know you’ll be old, fat and hairy and he’ll still be dragging your heart at his heels.” She blew a hard breath between them. “And you’ll jump at the chance to let some little cowboy half your age make you feel special again. No matter what you had to do to make that happen.”
“Let’s go back to your cabin. I’ve got an idea.” He escorted her to the open barn doors and chose an umbrella off the wall. “Stay close. Sugar melts.”
* * * *
Gavin tapped his eraser on his desk. The damned rain was still pouring down. Rebecca was in her room alone probably doing exactly what she told him she’d do, and he didn’t need another romp on the phone to make him any harder for her. If he could just take her in his arms the way he wanted to - the way he needed to - maybe that would be enough, but he couldn’t afford to be wrong. Pushing too hard or doing anything she wasn’t ready for wouldn’t get him anywhere. He had never worried so much about what a woman would think the next day. He didn’t want any of them hating him, never promised anything he didn’t intend to deliver, but he wasn’t one to send flowers either.
Rebecca wasn’t any other woman, and he was committed to finding out where this attraction might lead. Probably not the best decision he’d ever made, but he’d made it. And he wasn’t turning back.
“Nice weather,” Garrett said as he stepped through the door. “The boys will be glad for the break.”
Gavin dropped the eraser on his desk and stood to leave.
“About last night,” Garrett began.
“Unless you’re apologizing, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m not apologizing.”
Gavin was out the door before Garrett finished. He was not going to play by the rules, and he wasn’t about to ask Rebecca to leave. Or do anything else to screw up his chances with her. Period. The issue wasn’t open for debate.
* * * *
Rebecca waited outside in the hall for Garrett to finish his phone call and then knocked lightly. Her hair was still damp from the bath, and t
he rain that had finally slowed to a drizzle.
“Hello, Ms. Ryder. Gavin’s not here right now.”
“I came to see you.”
“Please come in.” Garrett laid his pen down across the top of his desk. “Have a seat if you’d like.”
Too bad Gavin wasn’t in the office, but it was probably better this way. And probably better too that her phone hadn’t rung while she was in the bath. She sat in the chair nearest to Garrett and smoothed her hands on her jeans. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to wear Gavin’s sweatshirt, but the temperature had dropped with the rain and she wanted to give her blouse a break before dinner.
“I should give you this while you’re here.” He lifted a belt from a stack of belts on his desk and checked the tag. He ran his finger over the initials stamped into the leather, and then handed it to her. “This one is yours right?” There were questions in his eyes, eyes so similar to Gavin’s and so different at the same time. So unfamiliar.
“Yeah, that one’s mine.” She folded the belt across her lap and took a deep breath.
“Is there a problem?” he asked. Worry had carved lines across his forehead. He was handsome though, the resemblance to Gavin enough to make Rebecca want to like him. His hair was darker, shorter, more primped.
“I came to apologize,” she said. “For a couple of things.”
“You don’t—”
“Please,” she interrupted. “First, I wanted to say I’m sorry that my brother-in-law called. He has a tendency to be less than pleasant.”
“It does concern me that he felt the need to call. Are you unhappy with anything here? Is this not what you expected?”
“It’s definitely not what I expected,” she said. “But I don’t have any complaints.”
“He implied that Gavin might have been too forward.”
“Not at all!” Rebecca jumped to his defense. Scott could be such a bastard.
The lines in Garrett’s forehead deepened.
“Scott’s just trying to stay in my sister’s good graces. She worries about me. He probably showed up this morning to take out the trash for her, too. When his girlfriend kicks him out he’ll need my sister to take him back in. Don’t worry about him. That phone call’s all the energy he’ll waste on me.”
