Back Where You Belong

by Vonnie Davis

He coughed and shook his burnt hand. “I said the pain’s about to bring me to tears.”

  “Does it burn? I’ll get you some first aid cream.” She pursed her lips, her heart racing and her fingertips tingling from what they’d touched. Tyler Desmond’s here in my kitchen with half a hard-on, and I just curled my fingers around it. Oh my God, brings new meaning to French toast.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Tyler cleared his throat, snapping her back to the here and now.

  “Grandma always used butter, but they say that’s not the right thing to use. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll go see if we’ve got some burn ointment.”

  “For God’s sake, girl, it’s just a little coffee. He’s probably gotten harsher rope burns while bull ridin’. Stop yer prattlin’ and settle.”

  She glanced at the scalded red spot across Tyler’s hand, and her stomach twisted with guilt. “No, he needs something on it.” She hurried out of the kitchen.

  When Tyler found her a couple minutes later, she was standing at the vanity in the bathroom, holding a tube of Neosporin and crying. Oh, crap, more embarrassment.

  “Hey.” He turned her and enveloped her in his arms. “What’s all this about? Don’t cry.”

  She pulled back and gazed at him. “I…I’m sorry I hurt you. I wanted this morning to be perfect.”

  “Ain’t nothing perfect. Take us, for instance. Since you stepped back into my life, I’ve been stabbed with a dart, pole-axed by a kiss, peed on and burnt.”

  “I don’t know why I’m like this around you. I don’t like it one bit.”

  “I’m not overly fond of it either.” He took the tube from her hand and removed the cap. “When my ex-wife left me, I swore I was through with women. Nothing but pain comes from them.” He rubbed ointment over his burn as he talked. “Pain and a quick grope under the table.” He smirked when he handed her back the Neosporin.

  “Now, that was a mistake, just like all the other things that’s happened.”

  His eyes twinkled, and he chuckled. “You’re like a walking blonde catastrophe. I figure you owe me.”

  “What? What do I owe you?”

  He took her chin between his thumb and fingers and drew her face closer. “A kiss. One that will right my world again, ’cause it’s been out of kilter since the first one at the Lonesome Steer. I’m beginning to think that dart had some kind of poison on it to put me under your spell.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  His gentle kisses over her eyes and cheeks erased her tears.

  “No more crying, only smiles. You’ve got a smile that warms my heart.”

  “I do?” No one had ever told her that before.

  Large hands settled at her waist, and little by little he inclined his head to hers, his voice barely a whisper. “Oh, yeah.” Then his lips made contact and nuked every cell of her being.

  Oh. My. God.

  Tyler sucked on her bottom lip, and someone in the tiny bathroom moaned. Since his lips were too busy doing things to her mouth, she suspected the moaner was her. When he angled his head to take the kiss deeper, and his tongue stroked along the inside of her bottom lip, her knees went weak. Her hands made a slow journey over his muscled chest just as they’d itched to do since he stepped into her kitchen.

  He groaned and backed her against the vanity.

  Lips fused.

  Breaths mingled.

  Tongues stroked and seduced.

  Spirits communicated.

  And still the kiss continued.

  I’ll never be the same again. Not after this.

  His hands slipped under her T-shirt and forged a trail up her sides. When they covered her breasts, her nipples peaked in welcome. Tyler murmured her name against her lips in response. With a shudder, as if he were trying to regain control, he pulled back, his eyes hooded with desire.

  She wasn’t sure why she was aggravated, but she was. Or maybe it was fear she felt. Fear that this would all be over before it had a chance to start.

  What exactly was the “it” she hoped for? An affair? A short-term romance? Something permanent? She hadn’t a clue.

  “I hope the kiss achieved what you wanted.” She straightened the hem of her T-shirt. “That it righted your world again.” It had certainly upended hers, and she wasn’t sure if she was pleased or provoked.

  He ran fingertips down her cheek and studied her with those deep, chocolate eyes of his. His expression was solemn, as if he were solving some serious problem. “No, not by a long shot.”

  Then he turned and strode out of the bathroom.

  The kiss carried Lacy through the breakfast dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Too many times, she caught herself staring off, motionless, remembering the strength of his arms and his deep male groans proclaiming he was just as turned on as she. Imagine. She and her teenaged fantasy in a major lip-lock in her bathroom. Thank God she hadn’t said anything stupid. Or had she? Goodness, the man had her mind so muddled, she didn’t know what she was saying half the time.

  Once the kitchen gleamed again, she headed for the corral. One of the trucks had been backed to the loading chute. Carlos, Pete and Tyler rode ahead, their mounts loping across the fields toward the hundred head she helped cut from the main herd yesterday. Grandpa motioned to Zeus, saddled and ready, before he heeled his mount to catch up with the other men.

  Her pinto whinnied a welcome, pawing the ground at her approach. “I’m coming handsome.” She fished a cube of sugar from her pocket and extended her hand for him to gently take it. In typical fashion, Zues nuzzled her as she patted his neck.

  “Did you see Tyler? Remember how he used to spoil you?” The pinto nodded and blew through his nose. She stroked his forehead and face. “The man makes me act like a simpleton. I do the dumbest things around him.” Lacy fed him another sugar cube and then slipped into the saddle in one fluid motion. “We’re going to catch up to Tyler and the others. What I need you to do is keep me far away from him. We’ll stay on the opposite side of the herd, okay?”

  She tugged the brim of her straw hat and clicked her tongue. Zeus headed across the pasture, picking up speed as if he were determined to beat the other riders to the cattle.

  Chapter Six

  Damn, she’s a sight on her horse.

  Tyler reined in Geronimo when he heard Zeus’s pounding hoof beats. Lacy was leaning over the pinto’s neck, her pleasure obvious by her expression. Her horse took the side of the bawling cattle opposite him. Just like he, she held a coiled loop of rope in her hand, ready to make short work of the loading process.

  She’d grown into a real beauty, Lacy had. Granted, she wasn’t fashion industry thin. No, Lacy had curves a man’s hands itched to touch. He glanced away, squinted into the morning sunlight and smiled. Lord, she had an amusing way about her. Bungling, yet caring. Talkative, yet charming. A man would never be bored with her, that’s for sure. And if her kisses were any indication, her passion would warm his nights. He shifted in the saddle to accommodate his physical reaction to that thought.

  Kissing her earlier had been like manna to a dying man. How long had it been since he’d been that turned on by a woman? Fact was, he’d been a few heartbeats away from lifting her onto the vanity, stepping between her thighs and taking her hard and fast.

  His gaze swept from the cattle to the blonde on the pinto. What a waste that would have been. Lacy was a woman a man needed to love slowly, enjoying every sigh, every tremble, every moan he could extract from her.

  Just the thought of having her in his bed hardened him to the point of physical pain. He’d do well to keep his thoughts and his libido on the task at hand.

  The morning was an enjoyable one. Everyone worked well together and soon both trailers on the trucks were full of his new stock of cattle; one hundred cows and a bull old Frank threw in out of the goodness of his heart, or so he claimed. Still, he had to admit the best part of his morning was watching Lacy on her horse. She rode with an easy grace, in tune with her mount’s every movement.


  Tyler pushed the handle for the hydraulics to close the loading ramp and back door on the rented trailer.

  Frank removed his hat and wiped the sweat off his bald head with a handkerchief. “Looks like that finalizes our business. You need more quality cattle, you know where to come.”

  Tyler stepped to the cab of the truck, his hand on the door handle and his gaze ricocheting from Lacy to her grandpa. “That I do, Frank.” He extended his hand. “You’re always a good man to do business with.”

  When they shook hands, Frank jerked his chin in the direction of his granddaughter who was removing saddles from the horses. “She’s a good girl. Normally she’s pretty quiet, but something about you makes her jumpy like a mare when a strong stallion comes around.” Frank pursed his lips, a movement Tyler now associated with Lacy. “Was thinking maybe the two of us would come to the rodeo next week, watch you ride, catch up on the news with neighbors.”

  He nodded and crossed his arms, allowing the thought of riding a bull in front of Lacy to take hold. “Be glad to see you there, Frank.” You and that pretty granddaughter of yours.

  Frank studied Tyler for several beats. “Yup, believe you’ll do.”

  Having said his peace, or so it seemed, the old man ambled off to the stables.

  A bead of cold sweat trickled down Tyler’s back. He narrowed his eyes on Lacy and watched her take a brush to her pinto. She was singing to the horse, and the animal nodded his head in response. Before Tyler knew it, he was smiling. Hell, he’d smiled more since he’d been pierced in the neck with that damn dart than he had for three years, maybe more. He removed his hat and slapped it against his leg. Well, why the hell not.

  He settled his hat low over his eyes so she couldn’t see the apprehension in them and sauntered to where she worked. “Lacy?”

  She whirled around, nervousness in her expression. “Yes?”

  “I wanted to thank you for breakfast. You were right. That was some of the best French toast I’ve ever tasted.” He smiled and glanced down at his feet, hoping he didn’t look like what he truly was—a man out of practice conversing with an attractive woman. Another bead of sweat jogged down his back. “The warm syrup was a nice touch, too.” He cleared his throat and fought to ignore those turquoise eyes of hers. “That was mighty nice of you to invite me and Pete. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”

  One of her sunshine smiles spread. “I…I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She pursed her lips, and he waited. “It was meant as an apology breakfast. Now, after Honeybun piddled on your boots and I scalded your hand with coffee, looks like I’ll never get caught up in the apology department.” She tilted her head and studied him. “But are apologies required between friends, I wonder? We are friends, aren’t we, Tyler?”

  Eyes prettier than a field of Texas blue bonnets regarded him.

  “Yeah, we’re friends. I was hoping you’d come to the rodeo next weekend and be one of my good luck charms.”

  “Oh?” Her hand fluttered to her throat.

  He brushed a curl from her face. “Usually Olivia, my daughter, brings me luck, but since I haven’t ridden in a while, I figure I could use a double dose.”

  “Given our history, are you sure you want me for a good luck charm? I haven’t exactly brought you good luck so far.” She patted the horse on the neck, then turned her eyes on him again. “I’m more like the ‘break a leg’ kinda charm. What if my being there jinxes you? I’m carrying around enough guilt for everything that’s happened to you so far. If you did poorly on your ride or got hurt, I don’t think I could take it.”

  Was she blowing him off? When she said she wanted him for a friend maybe that was her way of saying she didn’t want anything more serious. Well, he’d not beg.

  He tugged on the brim of his hat. “Suit yourself then.” He turned and dragged his wounded pride to his truck. The confined cattle were bawling. He needed to stop making a fool of himself and get on the road so he could return to the Star-D with these cows.

  “Tyler?”

  A hand clasped around his arm, and he turned.

  “If you truly want me to come, I’ll be there. Just don’t hold me responsible for anything that happens.” She chewed at her bottom lip. “Me being a jinx and all.”

  God, watching her mouth when she talks is a helluva sensual delight.

  His relief was a big surprise, but what really bowled him over was the damn feeling of euphoria that swept through him.

  “I’ve always loved watching you ride the bulls.” Her cheeks were flushed when she lifted her gaze to his.

  He studied her for a few beats. How had she come to matter? He trailed fingertips down her cheek, over skin as soft as the rose petals Olivia was so fond of. “I’ll see you there then.”

  ****

  The air hung heavy with dust and excitement. After years of competing, Lacy’s soul recognized the underlying hum of the rodeo environment. Recognized and rejoiced at being “home” again. A smile bloomed, and her heart rate picked up. How many hours had she spent at rodeos?

  Loudspeakers blared the announcer’s perspective of the event happening in the arena. The strong aroma of spicy Texas barbecue wafted from several food stands, making her stomach growl. So, too, did the odor of peanut oil for French fries and the burnt sweetness of cotton candy. Many spectators displayed their Western finery, wearing shirts with fringes and huge belt buckles. Spurs jangled in a symphony of surround sound. The cutest sights were the children strutting around in their cowboy boots and flashy duds.

  Rodeos, there was nothing in the world to rival them.

  Faces she recognized mingled with those she didn’t. Of the many that were familiar, she knew most of their names. In a way, this was home. She’d grown up in the rodeo environment. The location didn’t matter, it was the sights, sounds, smells, and all of the hard-working people who came to compete or cheer for those who often risked injuries to display their skills against brawny and spirited animals.

  Grandpa tapped her arm. “I see Cooter Banks over there. Think I’ll go see what he’s been up to lately. When the bull ridin’ starts, I’ll meet you in the stands.” He hurried to his long-time friend.

  There was a time not so long ago when Grandpa was so burdened with grief over grandma’s passing that he’d simply given up on life. Both the ranch and his friendships suffered. She’d come home from college to nudge, jolt or pull him back into the land of the living. Seeing her efforts pay off buoyed her spirits for a few seconds before memories raced in.

  While she’d basked in Grandpa’s often snippy praise for all she did, his gruff ways salved her battered soul. He had no clue how she needed the safety of isolation, away from the constant reminder on campus of the video that changed her life. Well, she wouldn’t dwell on it now. Too much time had been wasted on all the pain and humiliation. Today was a day for rodeo enjoyment, and—glancing at the cotton candy stand—she planned on enjoying herself.

  She stepped over to the vendor of her favorite treat. Cotton candy had always been her weakness. “Fairy floss” her grandma called it. She’d been nine when she first heard Grandma refer to the spun sugar in that manner and had been charmed by the fanciful name.

  “I knew if I kept an eye on this stand, I’d eventually see you.”

  The deep voice washed over her senses, putting every hormone in her body on full-Tyler-alert. Jangling spurs grew closer. She turned and her heart stuttered to a stop. Her six-foot-three adolescent crush sauntered toward her; only now she was an adult with mature desires that flamed every time he was near.

  His battered tan Stetson rode low over his eyes, a tan leather vest and chaps covered a navy Western shirt and tight blue jeans—sex in a pair of spurs. Her heart rolled over twice before it jump-started again. Oh, my God. When am I going to get over him?

  Her gaze slowly swept over Tyler while desire pooled and flooded every cell, every nerve, every hair follicle in her body. No man ever affected her the way he did. Down, girl, down.

  B
eside him was a petite teen with dark eyes and hair the same coloring as Tyler’s. A pink cowgirl hat sat on the back of her head. Black glasses framed her gaze as it locked on Lacy, no doubt taking her measure.

  “Lacy, I’d like you to meet my daughter.” He placed his arm protectively around the girl. “Olivia, this is my friend, Lacy LaRoche.”

  Olivia extended her hand, displaying the manners Tyler no doubt taught her. “Hello, Miss LaRoche. I’m pleased to meet you.” Her smile was genuine and her eyes sparkled with humor behind the lens of her glasses. She was a miniature Tyler in many ways.

  “Call me Lacy, please.”

  The lady in the concession stand extended a paper cone covered with pink cotton candy. Lacy took it and turned to Olivia. “Would you like some? It’s a weakness of mine, I’m afraid. I’ve been eating it at every rodeo since I was nine.”

  The girl pushed her frames up her nose. “Yes, please. I’ve inherited my dad’s sweet tooth.”

  “Oh, a girl after my own heart.” She turned to order another, then glanced over her shoulder. “Tyler? Do you want one?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll just take a bite of Olivia’s…or yours.” His slow, sexy-as-hell grin took her breath away and warmed her insides.

  She handed Olivia her cotton candy. “Women do not share. Do we, Olivia?” The girl giggled which pleased Lacy. She laughed and popped a piece of the confection into her own mouth.

  Tyler wrapped his other arm around her waist and drew her to his side. “Just what every man dreams of, walking between two pretty women. See you’ve worn your championship belt buckle. Looks good with your denim skirt. You look good.” His eyes darkened as he gazed at her.

  Someone called his name, and he raised a hand in greeting. Then before she knew what was happening, he tore off a hunk of her cotton candy and pushed it into his mouth.

  “Hey!”

  He winked at his daughter. “She doesn’t know me, does she?”

  Olivia held her cone of cotton candy away from him. “Daddy always steals people’s food. He’s incorrigible.”

  Lacy laughed and shot Tyler a look. “Incorrigible, huh?”