Cowboy Crush

by Liz Talley

  She bore down on him like a field sergeant.

  Finally he stopped in front of a collection of storm doors.

  “That woman got your autograph, took a picture with you and called you her rider. You’re good at bull riding, aren’t you?”

  “Two-time world champion.”

  “Holy crap,” she mused, folding her arms over her chest again...which sucked because he liked the view of her rack. “You didn’t need this job. Why’d you take it?”

  “I was bored.” Probably not a good answer. But it was the truth.

  “Bored? You took a job helping me because you were bored? That’s insane.”

  “I climb onto the back of two-thousand pound animals that could stomp a mud hole in me. I’m a little crazy.”

  Maggie actually looked hurt. “Is this about the flirting? The kiss? Was this about getting a piece of ass?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously? You admit it?”

  He looked for the section that housed the ladders because the hole he’d dug had gotten deep as hell. “Look, this isn’t just about sex, okay? Yeah. I want you. I’ll be honest. I’ve been home for six weeks. Three of them were miserable as hell with my mother constantly in my ear about crap. This last wreck has her convinced I have a death wish. And I hurt like a son of a bitch. But when you walked into that diner, it was like a big ol’ glass of water set in front of a thirsty man. I had to take a drink...or try to.”

  Maggie didn’t respond for a few seconds. Instead she studied him under the harsh lighting, framed against the prefabricated doors. “You could have asked me out to dinner. That’s the normal way a man goes about pursuing a woman.”

  “But you needed help.”

  “And you wanted to fix things for me?”

  “Maybe a little. I felt bad for you and as I mentioned, I’ve been without much to occupy my time. My shoulder’s good enough to hold a paintbrush and hammer some nails. I need to get stronger and drop some pounds. There’s only so much I can do in a gym.” He dropped his gaze, taking in her tight body in the sundress and the toes he’d thought about nibbling. “And the scenery wasn’t bad.”

  “I feel like an idiot. When you told me you lived in a trailer on your mother’s property—”

  “You thought I was a loser? Didn’t have a job and lived with Mommy, huh?” He cracked a smile. But he had to admit, it would be easy to jump to that conclusion. He had been hanging out in a diner at 9:00 a.m. on a weekday. And he’d eagerly suggested he could help her with the ranch.

  “So why didn’t you tell me you were, like, some celebrity bull rider?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “I’m asking now. What else? Do you have a girlfriend? A...wife?” Her mouth tightened.

  “No. The last girl I dated seriously was in college. The only other thing I can think of to tell you is I’m currently ranked fourth, my nickname is Hollywood, I modeled in a Hugo Boss ad, and if you hear something about an orgy in Denver, I was not there. No matter what anyone says.” He spread his hands out and hoped she didn’t start hurling the doorknobs still sitting in the cart at him.

  Maggie gave an ironic laugh. “Oh, is that all?”

  “Yep. I’ve totally come clean.”

  She picked up the list with a heavy sigh. “If someone would have told me I’d be standing in a Home Depot in McKinney, Texas, with a guy who models Hugo Boss underwear, I’d tell them they’d been smoking some bad shit.”

  “It wasn’t underwear,” he said, taking the shopping cart. “It was a suit. But I wore my gold buckle.”

  Maggie merely shook her head and fell in step behind him. “Okay, Hollywood, let’s get this list completed so we can get back and cure your boredom.”

  “Oh, really?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “What did you have in mind? Because the lubricant aisle is right over there.” He pointed toward aisle five. He had no clue what was in aisle five. He just wanted Maggie to smile again. To maybe consider getting naked with him at some point.

  “But I need caulk,” she said. Though she made it sound dirty.

  Like maybe he didn’t need that ladder, after all.

  6

  MAGGIE SNITCHED ONE of Cal’s French fries from the Burger Boy bag and slid another look at him as he drove through the intersection.

  Two-time world champion, huh?

  Not such a loser, after all.

  Okay, she’d never thought him a loser. She’d wondered why he lived with his mother and didn’t seem to have a job, but she’d never judged him. Humble beginnings were her middle name so she never looked down or up on the social ladder...though she was constantly aware. Paid to be aware of one’s surroundings. It had helped her to navigate a gilded world of charity dinners and boardrooms with Bud. She knew firsthand the rungs were often broken or slick.

  But she’d never imagined Cal would have people calling him “their” rider...and wanting autographs...and knowing his rehab schedule. So strange. And somehow so intriguing. She’d been attracted to him before she knew he was a rodeo rock star, but now she couldn’t stop looking at him. Of course, that might make her shallow. Or merely honest with herself. After all, most women preferred a hot successful guy over a hot unemployed one still living with Mama.

  She swiped another fry.

  “Hey, lay off my fries, woman,” Cal said, making another turn, taking them farther from the center of the small city. “You better not eat them all before we get there.”

  “Get where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Ten minutes later, after a bone-jarring ride over a rutted dirt road, they emerged into a clearing beside a small lake. The sun glittered off the waves. Thick grass and small trees crowded the banks. “A lake?”

  “A picnic,” he said, lifting the bag of food from between them and opening the door. The hot Texas wind blew inside the cab, urging her out. She obliged, sliding down to the yellowed grass waving against the running board.

  Cal had angled the truck parallel to the lake and lowered the tailgate, creating a bench for them. All of the supplies they’d bought at Home Depot were piled into the back, held with several bungee cords. There was just enough room for both of them to sit, legs dangling over the edge of the tailgate. Above them birds hopped along the branches of the large oak tree.

  “It’s nice out here,” she said, digging her grilled chicken salad from the depths of the bag, handing him the cheeseburger he’d ordered, swiping another fry in the process. “How’d you find it?”

  “I dated a girl from McKinney in high school. We came here to make out.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t have a favorite make-out spot back in Philly.”

  “I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head and then using her teeth to rip off the tab for the fat-free dressing. “I lived at Briarcliff my whole life. My mom and I had a garage apartment and there wasn’t really a place for making out. Though I did kiss the gardener’s nephew in the gazebo once. Didn’t last long. He was only there for a weeklong visit. So no nooky on the estate.”

  “Why’d you have a garage apartment?” he asked, biting into his burger and looking way happier than she could stabbing the cellulose lettuce and pretending her salad was delish. His hair ruffled in the breeze and the visor made him look sporty...masculine...sexy.

  “My mother was Bud’s housekeeper, so we lived at Briarcliff—that’s the name Bud’s ex-wife, Phyllis, gave the estate. Outside of the four years I spent at college, it’s been home. I can’t complain, though, because it was a beautiful place to grow up. There were stables, a tennis court and a pool. I used those things whenever I wanted. Well, at least after Phyllis divorced Bud. I was nine years old when they split. Their kids were grown so I didn’t have to worry about waiting until no one was using the pool for a pool party.”

  “And your father?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t have a father.”

  He jerked his gaze on her, ma
king her feel naked...and not in a good way. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, my conception was a one-night thing that happened when my mother was young. The Edelmans used to have big parties and, honestly, I’m not sure my mother knows who my father is. I know it’s weird, but I truly never missed out on having a father figure. I had the gardener, the horse trainer and even Bud.”

  Cal’s eyes narrowed. “But it doesn’t bother you not knowing?”

  “Maybe a bit, but I had a good mother and a happy upbringing.”

  “Well, that’s something,” he acknowledged with a nod.

  “So what about your father? You never mentioned him.”

  Cal looked away. “Because he’s not worth talking about.”

  Maggie popped a smashed grape tomato into her mouth and chewed. She might not have daddy issues, but she could see Cal did. “I’m sorry if my attitude about my father came off as flippant. Plenty of kids out there don’t have anyone to love them, so I was glad I had my mom...and Bud to a degree. He was a mentor, always there when I needed him.”

  “He left us when I was a month old,” Cal said.

  “That’s awful. Do you know where he is?” she asked, setting her hand on his thigh.

  “Probably working a spread up in Montana or Utah. He calls about once a year. Sometimes I answer. He’s proud of me. That’s what he likes to say, but that’s all he has to offer. If I weren’t winning big, he’d never call,” Cal said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, hearing the anger in his voice. She’d never known her father—no name and no face—so she didn’t have to miss him. Obviously, Cal resented the man who’d thrown him away. For good reason.

  “Don’t be. He lost the chance to be my father a long time ago. He was the sperm donor, like your dad.” He wadded up the wrapper and tossed it into the bag before shoving several fries into his mouth. “Can we drop this conversation? I like talking to you, but not about my family. Or the PBR. Or...let’s go ahead and rule out terrorism, gay marriage and anything to do with reality television, okay?”

  “Jeez, what’s left to talk about?” she joked, still reeling from the revelation they both lacked fathers in their lives. Talk about two peas in a pod.

  “How about the fact I can’t take my eyes off you?” he said. Case in point, his gaze was on her, traveling down to the stretchy top of the sundress.

  “I bet you say that to all your bosses.” She laughed, even as she felt desire stir inside her.

  “I’ve never worked for anyone who looked like you...for anyone who made me want to lick my way up her neck.”

  “Yeah, that probably would have landed you in the dirt with a black eye,” she said, chasing an olive around the tasteless dressing. She should have splurged on a cheeseburger like Cal had, but she was so accustomed to making the wise decision in her life that she hadn’t thought twice about how nice a juicy burger covered with American cheese would taste.

  Cal shoved the paper bag to the side and took the tray she’d been holding and set it aside. “You’re finished with that, right?”

  “I guess I am now,” she said, tossing her fork into the depths of the below-par salad. She wasn’t hungry any longer. At least not for food.

  Cal leaned into her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “So since we’re being so honest on this little trip into town, let’s talk turkey.”

  “Turkey, huh?”

  “Yeah, ’cause I want you. And you want me.”

  “Or so you think.”

  His teeth flashed white against his tanned skin. Amused by her. Like a cat playing with a mouse he’d cornered. That thought made her tingly. Excited.

  “Oh, you want me, baby. You’re trying to tell yourself that you shouldn’t indulge.” He looked back at the half-eaten salad sitting on the tailgate.

  “Or maybe I know you’re not good for me. That you’d make me fat.” Keeping a barrier between them had seemed so important, but now she wondered if she’d been deluding herself. A woman didn’t run from the kind of want that rose inside of her. It wasn’t going away.

  “Oh, baby. I won’t make you fat,” he said, tracing her bottom lip with a finger.

  “You won’t?” she whispered, wanting to believe him.

  “I’ll make you a lot of things, but fat won’t be one of them.” He set a hand on her hip, drawing her around so she faced him. His breath was as hot as the wind tangling her hair. She could smell the mixture of Irish Spring soap and a unique scent that was decidedly male. Intoxicating. “What will you make me?”

  “Tired.” He kissed her bare shoulder.

  “Sweaty.” And the sensitive spot behind her ear.

  “Satisfied.” Then his lips captured hers. And it was good. So, so good.

  Maggie couldn’t help herself. She leaned in and kissed him back. Tongues met and she sighed against his lips as she tasted French fries. Not cellulose lettuce and crappy ranch dressing. But hot, delicious, very-bad-for-you goodness that embodied everything Cal Lincoln was.

  Cal cradled her jaw, angling her head so he could take the kiss deeper. A curl of heat unfurled in her stomach, blanketing her like Texas humidity. The sweet desire absent for the past few years latched onto her, sank its teeth into her.

  Somehow one of her hands found its way to his stomach, sliding over the soft cotton, as she reveled in the hard male beneath. Making a little mewling sound deep in her throat, she allowed her hand to drop down to the elastic waistband of his shorts.

  Cal broke the kiss, his gaze probing her eyes. “We both need this.”

  His words were meant to confirm, but instead doubt threatened her desire. She needed lots of things—a new career, a quick sale of the ranch and probably a pair of cowboy boots, thanks to that snake. But hot sweaty sex with Cal could be Dangerous with a capital D. She didn’t need dangerous or complicated.

  “But we shouldn’t,” she said, pulling her hand back into her lap, knowing she sounded halfhearted. “We’re both at a weird place right now. You with your shoulder. Me with this whole ranch thing. Sex could make things more complicated.”

  Cal raised his eyebrows. “I see. Another control issue?”

  “Making good decisions is not trying to control everything or everyone.”

  “What you see as complicated, I see as simple. There’s no downside to me and you having good old-fashioned naked fun.”

  “I’m not the kind of girl a man has fun with, naked or otherwise,” she said, wanting to believe that about herself. Lord knew she’d used that line several times before. She wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t do one-night stands or booty calls. She dated the right way—dinner, movies and maybe a good-night kiss with no tongue. Cal Lincoln made her want to break all the rules. He made her want to straddle him right there on the tailgate. To hell with the unwritten rules of dating.

  Of course, Maggie knew the reason she’d always been careful when it came to men—her mother’s experience. Her mother had been young when she went to work for the Edelmans and she’d obviously bumbled into something she couldn’t handle one weekend. The result of tossing out the unwritten rules had cried for 2:00 a.m. feedings. So it was only natural Maggie grew up trying to make the right decisions all the time. Cal Lincoln wasn’t the right decision. He was a bored cowboy looking to pass some time before he took off again. And whether he needed the job or not, he worked for her. Too many arrows pointed away from him. Only one pointed toward him. Being horny was no good reason to jump into something that could make the shaky ground beneath her crack.

  Cal traced a finger over her shoulder. “Just because I want to bend you over this tailgate and make you scream doesn’t mean I don’t respect you.”

  She snorted, pulling away. “Some would say that’s an oxymoron.”

  “Some don’t understand how mature adults play. Think about it this way. We have a little over a month until I leave for Mobile and you put the ranch on the block and head back east. Game over. But until we get there, we could have weeks of laughter, good
sex and companionship.”

  He made it sound so simple.

  “Plus, since we know we’re done in August, we don’t have to go through the cold silence, nasty fights and a hurtful breakup. We’ll have good, dirty fun between the sheets, on the new kitchen countertops...in that new shower we’ll put in.”

  Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as if she could shut out the images of their two bodies slick with sweat wrapped round each other. She knew it would be amazing between them and it had been so long since she’d made love with someone. A cute pink vibrator and erotica were a poor substitute for the scrape of a beard against her nipples, the weight of a man on her, and the mind-bending orgasm achieved as he went hard and deep. But...

  Cal slid off the tailgate and walked to the trunk of the oak tree, giving her room physically and figuratively. He turned toward her. “I’m not going to beg you, Maggie. I respect a woman’s right to choose for herself what she wants in a relationship. I could use cheap seduction tactics, but I won’t. You like to make logical decisions, so I’ll leave it to you. I’ve pretty much made my case for a no-strings-attached, mutually beneficial relationship.”

  Maggie slid off the tailgate, grabbing a leaf dangling from the branch above her head. “You think it will be that easy? A clean break? No mess?”

  Cal shrugged. “Neither of us is at a place for anything more. We’ll have a few laughs and leave with a good memory.”

  She couldn’t deny his argument sounded logical. Eliminating the messiness of a breakup and setting guidelines meant they’d both know the score. No shaky ground...just hot, gratifying sex. When she left Texas, she’d be ready to start a new life and perhaps being with a hot cowboy could make that easier. She’d feel more confident, less needy and most important, sexually fulfilled. Or at least she assumed he was as advertised. “You know, from the moment I first arrived in Coyote Creek, I’ve been off balance. I made the decision to remodel the ranch and hire you without much forethought which is highly atypical of me. I can’t say I’ve been very practical about the path I’ve chosen for the next month or so. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I need a little spontaneity. Maybe I need some...hot sex?”