Opposing the Cowboy

by Margo Bond Collins

  “You, too,” the other man said, but he made no move back toward his own table, instead staring at Jonah and LeeAnn through narrowed eyes.

  If I don’t get out of here, I will end up hurting him.

  “Actually, we were just leaving.” Jonah flashed a smile in LeeAnn’s direction. “We decided we have better things to do.” He pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and tossed it on the table. Another step into Vincent’s space caused the man to step back again, allowing enough room for LeeAnn to exit the booth.

  LeeAnn blinked several times, then snagged her purse. “Oh. Absolutely,” she said, sliding out of her seat and running her fingers across Jonah’s abdomen as she moved past him. “Much better things.” She smirked at Darrell and waggled her fingers as they walked past. Jonah’s arms hovered around her, clearly protecting her.

  As Jonah ushered her to the door, he whispered into her ear, “Don’t look back. It’ll spoil a great exit line.”

  Outside the Wagon Wheel, LeeAnn let out a laugh that he suspected would have been a whoop if they had been only slightly farther away from the diner. “Nicely done, Jonah Hamilton,” she said. Her smile dimmed a bit. “Much better than last night.”

  Jonah smiled a little ruefully as they made their way down the sidewalk. “I wish I’d thought to grab our plates on the way out, though,” he said.

  “Come on,” she said, tugging him across the street. “I know a great Mexican place. I’ll buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Only if you promise to make it free of any of your exes. I think I’ve used up all my manly prowess for the rest of the week.”

  Her eyes raked across him in a way that made him seriously consider actually skipping dinner. “Oh, I doubt that,” she said. “I suspect you’ve got more manly prowess than you need.”

  Somehow, I’m not sure that’s a compliment.

  Shaking his head, he followed her through the streets of the Stockyards District.

  Why does it matter what she thinks?

  If he wasn’t careful, he would end up leaving his heart here when he moved on to the next job.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Their days fell into a rhythm. Three days a week, after her morning class, she drove him to the ranch, where they spent the day searching through Gran’s boxes, making their way through one outbuilding at a time. On the other days, he brought out his pickup and they loaded it with the things she had decided to donate to Goodwill or have hauled to the county dump. In the evenings, they went to dinner together after her class.

  In between, LeeAnn did her best not to spend most of her time staring at him and daydreaming about the kisses they had shared.

  For his part, Jonah seemed to ignore the chemistry she was certain she felt between them.

  Then again, maybe he wasn’t really interested in her, no matter what his body had suggested when she was sitting on his lap.

  He certainly didn’t mention the kisses again.

  At the end of three weeks, they had cleared several outbuildings and a barn, with nothing to show for it but a growing collection of pictures of old magazines to send to his librarian friend—and on LeeAnn’s part, a growing fascination with all things Jonah.

  With that one exception at the party, where he had looked like he was about to actually beat Darrell to a pulp, he was smart, funny, nice—the type of man she had always admired.

  Even if he was the enemy.

  The kind of enemy she could learn to love?

  She groaned aloud and unrolled her mat on the floor at the front of the mirrored room in the yoga studio. She needed this. Hours spent with Jonah only a few feet away had left her with something resembling a migraine headache.

  It’s not that he’s beautiful and distracting.

  Well, that’s not all of it, anyway.

  He was also determined to find proof that he was right—that Gran, or someone before her, had left the mineral rights to her ranch to someone else. That conviction rolled off him in waves, leaving her dizzy with…

  Anger. Definitely anger.

  Not desire.

  Dropping down into a cross-legged lotus position, she pulled her feet up onto her thighs and touched her forefingers to her thumbs. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath, then gently blew it out, imagining that Jonah—and everything he did or said—went right out with the breath.

  I am peaceful.

  I am centered.

  Om…

  Calm settled over her shoulders, and she pulled it around herself like a warm fleece blanket.

  Opening her eyes, she smiled beatifically and began greeting her students as they arrived, murmuring their names. This was the beginners’ class, so she had people of all shapes and ages, ranging from high school students to senior citizens. Carlos Canas was the oldest in her class—he had been practicing for years before LeeAnn had even been born. She often asked him to demonstrate poses so she could point out specific elements to the class. He almost always arrived last, coming from volunteering at the local senior citizens’ center.

  He was also generally the only man in the class.

  Most Texas men weren’t really the yoga type.

  “Hey, LeeAnn,” Carlos said as he unrolled his own mat in front of hers.

  She responded with a smile, then stood. “Time to get started, everyone,” she said to the students, allowing the comfortable rhythm of the class to lengthen the cadence of her voice. “Roll your shoulders back, centered above your hips. Feet shoulder width apart, arms at your sides. Now close your eyes, and breathe.”

  As she closed her own eyes in demonstration, she heard a slight commotion. For a moment, she ignored it—although all her regulars were here, it wasn’t exactly unusual for a newbie to show up a few minutes late. The other students would help the new arrival find a spot for her mat.

  “And breathe in…and out.”

  The slight commotion had mostly died down, but an odd, expectant energy filled the room, blowing through the air around her.

  What is that?

  “Feel your feet rooted to the ground.” She kept her voice slow and gentle, but the strange feeling continued to hover.

  Cracking open one eyelid, she peeked at the room, then opened both eyes in surprise.

  At the back of the room, towering over the women around him, stood Jonah, wearing soft gray sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt.

  Her students glanced back and forth between their instructor and Jonah, and LeeAnn realized she had stopped speaking.

  Jonah realized it at the same time and smirked. His navy blue eyes glinted at her.

  Dammit. I am not peaceful. Not centered.

  But he didn’t need to see that.

  Moving back into the routine, she took the class through their opening stretches.

  Again and again, she found herself watching Jonah.

  He moves like an athlete—light on his feet.

  He stretched his arms high above his head, according to her instruction, then bent down toward his toes. He couldn’t quite reach them.

  Not terribly flexible, though.

  Why is he here?

  I wonder what he’d be like in bed?

  She tried to shove the traitorous thought back down.

  A hot blush flashed across her face, and she bent down to hide it as she took the class through the rest of the sun salutation. As they shifted into the standing poses, she began walking around the room, touching a student’s back here, straightening a stance there.

  I should help him. She sneaked a glance at him as he stood in the warrior one pose. His arms were in the correct position, but he needed to adjust his feet.

  Stifling a sigh, she moved toward him.

  I can do this. He’s just another student.

  Why does he get to me like this?

  She moved around so she stood behind him. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

  “Yoga.” His tone was bland, and he kept his gaze pointed toward the front of the room, but LeeAn
n was certain she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

  Fine. He wanted to do yoga? She could arrange for that.

  “Okay,” she murmured, gently touching the undersides of his outstretched arms to lift them a little. She had planned to immediately bend over and readjust the placement of his feet. But as her fingertips brushed his bare skin, an electric shock jumped between them. She jerked her fingers back, curling them into fists, but it didn’t stop the frisson of heat from running up her own arms. Startled, she glanced up at Jonah’s face, in time to see a muscle in his cheek twitch.

  He felt that, too.

  She waited for some acknowledgment from him, but he didn’t look at her, choosing instead to resettle himself into the warrior pose.

  Okay, then. I can ignore it if he can.

  Bending over, she tapped his back leg, making sure she didn’t touch any bare skin this time. Thank God he was wearing sweats and not shorts.

  “Turn this foot out, a little,” she whispered, placing her foot beside his to demonstrate.

  This time he glanced back at her, and she suddenly became aware of how close they were. The heat of his body radiated out, warming the space between them. Pulling away, she glanced back one last time to make sure he had adjusted the pose.

  His feet were perfectly aligned.

  In fact, his feet were pretty much perfect.

  Who has sexy feet?

  Well, okay, probably Superman.

  And apparently his cowboy alter ego.

  Pay attention to the class, LeeAnn.

  She moved them through the other warrior poses, then into triangle, a pose the class had been working on perfecting for the last two weeks.

  “I know it seems like a simple pose,” she said, “but remember, it’s possible to make tiny changes and gain huge results. So let’s keep working on creating the most beautiful triangles we can. Arms straight out, legs apart. Turn the front foot forward and your palms up. Shift your hip back, and slide your arm forward. Now, keeping your arms aligned, point the back one to the sky, and slide the bottom one toward the floor.” She reached out and grabbed the blue foam block near her feet. “Remember, you can always balance on the block.”

  Once again, she stood and walked around the room.

  This time, Jonah’s foot placement was perfect.

  He’s a quick study.

  Unlike many of the other people in the class full of beginner yoga students, he had opted not to use a block to steady himself, relying instead on the strength in his core to support him. As LeeAnn watched him, his shirt slipped up a little, baring the skin above the waistband of his sweats. His skin stretched over the oblique muscle as it tensed with exertion.

  I’m staring again.

  “Everyone breathe,” she intoned, as much a reminder to herself as it was to the class.

  She moved back to the front of the room and resumed her demonstration of the pose. “Stretch up to the sky with one arm, down to the ground with other. Open your body to the side of the room,” she said. “If you’re comfortable here, then you might try turning your face to the sky.” Several students—those who had been in her class for a while now—had actually already done so, and she was pleased to see their improved form.

  Although she didn’t want to admit it to herself, she was watching Jonah out of the corner of her eye to see if he felt steady enough in the position to add the extra balancing element of turning his head.

  It didn’t take long before he tried.

  Okay. So he’s not bad at yoga.

  I wonder how long he can hold the pose.

  It wasn’t fair to the other students, she knew. But somehow, she couldn’t help herself.

  Not fair. Yeah, but it’s not fair that he’s so good at everything, either.

  I know that the whole reason he’s here is to mess with me. I’m sure of it.

  So let’s see how long he lasts.

  “Okay,” she said. “Remember, everyone, listen to your body. We are going to hold this pose for as long as you feel comfortable. When you’re ready, drop down into child’s pose by bringing your arms up and stepping your feet together. Then kneel down, place your forehead on the mat, and stretch your arms out in front of you.” Quickly, she demonstrated. “Anytime you like, you can bring your arms back alongside your legs, palms up, and rest.”

  About half the class followed her lead almost immediately. The other half, including Jonah, opted to stay in triangle, and LeeAnn rose up to resume the pose, as well.

  One. Two. Three. She began counting the seconds in her head.

  After a minute, half of the remaining students stepped out of the pose.

  But not Jonah.

  From her position at the front of the room, LeeAnn could see sweat begin to bead on his forehead.

  One hundred and thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty.

  “Remember to breathe,” she instructed the class. “In and out.”

  This is my territory.

  You won’t win.

  One hundred seventy-five. Seventy-six.

  …

  Jonah blinked as a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eye.

  He had come to the class to see LeeAnn in a different setting. In his experience, seeing someone at work could tell him a lot about how to deal with them. He needed more information about LeeAnn. Ever since that second kiss, she had seemed more distant, cooler.

  He wanted to change that, if only because they still had several buildings to go through before they finished their search through her gran’s paperwork.

  Mineral rights. That’s why you’re hanging out in her yoga studio.

  Yeah, right.

  You’re an idiot, Hamilton.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d been in a yoga class—not exactly, anyway. A college girlfriend had dragged him to a few sessions, so he understood the basic concept. He hadn’t ever been in one like this, though. Somehow, he hadn’t ever considered yoga an endurance sport.

  But this pose was about to kill him.

  Time to drop into—what had she called it? Child’s pose.

  As he opened his eyes, though, he caught a glimpse of her staring at him, her own gray eyes narrowed as her gaze bored into him, followed almost instantly by a shock of realization.

  She’s doing this because of me.

  He glanced around, seeing the rest of the students begin to sit up. They glanced nervously at their instructor, as if waiting for her to speak.

  Oh. It’s on.

  He closed his eyes and settled back into the pose, ignoring the burn of the muscles along his side.

  I’ve dealt with worse than this.

  A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he focused on forcing it to relax. What was that thing the yoga teacher in college had said?

  Oh, yeah.

  Om…

  See? It was easy.

  Except that now his neck was beginning to cramp up. And his arm, the one pointing up into the air, had started to go numb.

  Still, he couldn’t let her win.

  On some level, he knew he shouldn’t care who won, shouldn’t even see it as a competition. He couldn’t seem to help himself.

  Finally, though, he had to acknowledge that at least in this arena, he might have to admit defeat.

  I am too old for this. And far too mature.

  Suddenly, Jonah didn’t care whether he won or not. Not against her.

  Now, I need to get out of this damn pose.

  Opening his eyes, he began to exert his stiffened muscles to raise up, to bring his arms level. A gentle touch at his waist and under one arm guided him up, and he realized that LeeAnn was standing behind him.

  “Excellent work,” she said, smiling at him. Some sort of acknowledgment passed between them, and then she was walking away, threading her way through the mats and talking to the class again. “Great job, everyone. Now let’s move on to today’s balance pose.”

  What was that, exactly?

  It was important. I’m sure of it.
/>   He had originally come to the class to attempt to gain some insight into this strange, compelling woman. So how did this oddly competitive moment fit into the overall picture he was building up of her?

  It doesn’t. Not really. That was your cutthroat nature showing itself, Hamilton.

  And yet she had joined in the silent war.

  Yoga as a nervous habit.

  Yoga as a competitive sport.

  A ranch that was falling apart.

  A recent breakup with a man who clearly didn’t recognize what he’d had.

  A woman who had kissed him on impulse, drawing out of him the strongest reaction he’d had to anyone in a long time.

  She ran hot and cold.

  Mostly hot.

  Shaking his head, he stretched his aching arms out in front of him, following her instructions as she led the class into what he recognized as the odd crane stance she’d been practicing in the store the first time he’d seen her there.

  He was looking forward to continuing to work with her—to learning more about the kind of woman who was willing to test his limits.

  Maybe all of my limits.

  An unwilling smile crept across his face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He walked toward the corral, the path familiar after weeks of treading it every weekday morning. As usual, he eyed the fences as he walked—particularly the barbed-wire fence that marked the property’s outer boundary. Parts of it were sagging, and some of the fence posts had fallen down altogether.

  Frowning, he paused by one of the downed posts, toeing it with one boot. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix. Not with the right equipment.

  A plan began forming in his mind.

  After he’d said hello to the horse, he headed back to the house. As usual, LeeAnn was already up and about, a cup of hot tea in her hand. It didn’t matter what time he arrived, she was always awake and moving.

  He, on the other hand, couldn’t function until he’d had at least two cups of strong black coffee.

  “Good morning,” she warbled.

  “Hey,” he said. “Would it be okay with you if I rode Blackie sometime? It’s been too long since I’ve been riding.”

  “Sure,” she said. “We usually go out first thing in the morning, but he could use more exercise.”