Lone Star Daddy (McCabe Multiples)

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Yet capable of great gentleness and tenderness, too.

  But it was his brown eyes with the darker rim around the edges that drew her in the most. Made her want to make his life easier, too.

  He’d been hurt. Just as she had.

  He was wary of making another mistake of the heart, too.

  “The sooner the endorsement work gets done,” she said, “the quicker you get back to what you really want to be doing—ranching.”

  Visibly relaxing at the thought of that, he sat down opposite her and handed her a glass of wine. “Good point. All right...you sold me. What’s the wager?”

  “I bet we can wrap up the filming of the endorsement commercial for the berry picker in just one more week.” If they hustled, she knew they could do it, no matter how ridiculous the demands of the Farmtech marketing execs.

  “One week?” Abruptly, Clint looked as impatient as she felt. Their eyes met and held for another breath-stealing moment. “I’d like it to be one more day,” he lamented with a sigh.

  “That’s not going to happen, given how slow the advertising team works.” Despite how much she wanted to triumph, she couldn’t make a sucker bet with him.

  He broke the bakery-fresh bread with his hands and heaped stew on both their plates. His usual good humor returned. “All right, then,” he conceded, “I’ll wager three days.”

  “That would mean that to win, you would have to cooperate a whole heck of a lot more than you have been thus far,” Rose warned.

  He shrugged.

  “You can’t delay or drag things out, either.”

  “I won’t.” He leaned toward her, his knees bumping hers beneath the table. “So, if you win...?”

  Rose shrugged, ignoring the comforting warmth of his body so close to hers. She did not pull away. Neither, to her delight, did he. “We have a date of my choosing.”

  Chuckling, he let his gaze rove slowly over her body before returning to her eyes. “Trying to tempt me into deliberately losing our bet?”

  Was he that eager to spend time with her? Rose beamed happily at the notion. “No.” Tingling everywhere his eyes had touched and everywhere they hadn’t, she feigned a serious winner-take-all attitude. “I just want a chance to do things all my way.”

  The corners of his lips twitched with mirth. “Ah...”

  “And if you win?” she asked, shifting back slightly so they were no longer in contact with each other. She was trying very hard to keep this meal on track, lest they end up upstairs in his bed.

  “If I triumph,” he declared, sliding a hand beneath his roughhewn jaw, matching her solemn tone to the letter, “then I want a dinner with you—and your kids. Done my way.”

  The shock of his request stole her breath. “Really?” She blinked. “You’d want that?”

  Slowly Clint nodded. “The night we all played Superheroes together?” he prodded in a rusty-sounding voice.

  She nodded.

  “That was one of the best nights of my life.”

  And best of all, Rose noted happily, he meant it.

  * * *

  CLINT WAS PLEASED to see that Rose was in no hurry to go home, even after dinner was over, dishes done. Instead, she asked for a tour of the barn and the stables—both of which were going to have to be torn down and rebuilt from the ground up—and the first floor of the ranch house, which along with the rest of the sprawling two-story domicile had been completely redone by the previous owner.

  “It must have been nice,” she remarked as they walked into his newly modernized private study, “to move into a place that was furnished right down to the dishes and linens.”

  “I didn’t mind paying extra for all that.” He caught her hand in his. “Others might have balked.”

  Seemingly content to have her fingers laced with his, she moved over to the long ledge beneath the windows. “What’s this?” She pointed to the aerial photographs, new barn and stable blueprints, and survey maps laid out along the two-foot-wide shelf.

  Clint did not want to discuss anything that might upset her. Especially given how well the evening had gone so far. Nor did he want to hide what was going to be his future. “Those are the plans for the reconfiguration of the ranch,” he told her reluctantly.

  She tilted her head, and the gentle movement brought the subtle drift of her sun-warmed perfume. “When did you commission the design?”

  “A little over a year ago, when I first bought the ranch,” he said. “I just haven’t had the time or the money to implement any of the changes I’d like to see yet.”

  She smiled and locked eyes with him. “So tell me what you want done.”

  Using his fingertip, he referenced the survey map. “First, separate my ranching operation into two main areas. Put the cattle ranching on the south end. The cutting-horse breeding and training operation to the north. With the ranch house, of course—” he pointed to where they currently stood “—remaining in the middle of the property.”

  Rose leaned in close to observe, the delicate warmth of her shoulder brushing his in the process. “There’s only one problem with that. This line here—” she picked up a pencil to illuminate her point “—where the cattle pastures will be is awfully close to the berry patch.” Her soft lips compressed in concern, she pivoted to face him. “Too close, really, since agricultural regulations require a good distance between any livestock and produce operations to prevent cross-contamination.”

  Clint nodded, more than familiar with state and federal rules. He also had an idea how the evening would end if they continued down this path. There’d be no more laughing and joking around.

  No more quiet conversation.

  No more getting to know each other the way they needed to if they were to take whatever this was to the next level.

  One day soon, of course, they would have to discuss it. But that was not going to be tonight.

  He caught her by the wrist and pulled her close. Placing one hand on her waist, weaving the other through her hair, he guided her against him. Softness to hardness. Woman to man.

  She gasped, feeling the electric jolt of pure chemistry, too. “Clint...”

  He kissed her temple, her brow, the curve of her cheek, the need to make her his stronger than ever. “Enough business. Talking farming and livestock is not why I brought you over here.”

  “Then why did you?” she asked breathlessly, once again seeming to weigh everything he said and did.

  Words weren’t always the best way. Sometimes it was better to show someone how you felt. So Clint lowered his mouth to hers. “This.”

  Rose saw his kiss coming, and though she couldn’t avoid it entirely, to his frustration she refused to let it continue beyond the first mesmerizing contact. Hands splayed across the width of his shoulders, she gave him a little shove.

  Ever the gentleman, despite himself, he lifted his head. Waited.

  She inhaled shakily. “You know there is no future in this,” she reminded him.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, his thighs still plastered to hers. “I know you think too far ahead.”

  She jerked in a breath. “Someone has to, because I meant what I said, Clint. I really don’t ever want to get married again.”

  She could say it as much as she wanted. It didn’t mean that he was going to believe it. If ever there was a woman crying out for love, it was Rose. He could see it in her eyes and feel it in her kiss. He’d felt it in his chest when he had watched her finally let loose tonight, climb up on Silver and ride. She needed to be free as much as he needed to be connected. They could give each other that in so many ways.

  “I’ve got too much business,” Rose rushed on.

  He took her hand and led her into the living room. Away from the plans for his future, guaranteed to upset her. “You’re right about that.” He
sank down in a wing chair and tugged her onto his lap.

  “Too many responsibilities.” Rose shook her head.

  Most of which were meant to be shared, in an ideal world anyway.

  She linked her arms around his shoulders and looked at him seriously. “But as long as you understand that, and accept that whatever this is between us is only temporary, then we can have this.”

  We. He liked the sound of that.

  “Tonight anyway,” she amended quickly.

  He wanted a hell of a lot more than that. If she were honest, she would have to admit she did, too. “Is this a challenge?” he murmured, taking in the soft cloud of dark-blond hair around her face. He rubbed the curve of her lips with his thumb. “Because I am very good at meeting challenges.”

  Lowering her gaze, she traced the pocket on his shirt with her fingertips. “I know that,” she whispered.

  He cupped her chin and guided it upward until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “So what’s really holding you back?”

  She shrugged, her lush breasts rising and falling with each nervous breath. “This house is too big.”

  For him alone, maybe. With Rose and her kids...well, that would be another story.

  “It needs to be filled with a family, Clint.” Intuiting the direction of his thoughts, she added resolutely, “One of your own making.”

  Maybe it was time to put that particular theory to the test. He shifted her off his lap and stood, too. “You want to fix me up with someone?”

  The crestfallen look on her face confirmed what he already knew, deep down. She did not want to see him with another woman any more than he wanted to see her with another guy.

  “Matchmaking is not really my thing,” she hedged.

  Talk about an understatement. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then what is?”

  “Right now? In a very temporary sense, this.” She stepped back into his arms, rose on tiptoe, and pressed her breasts against his chest. Her kiss was everything he wanted, lush and evocative, searching, teasing, tempting. Without warning, she’d become the aggressor in a way he found surprising but incredibly sexy nevertheless. Still, he felt like he was taking advantage of her, pretending that all they had, or really could have, between them was sex. Calling on every ounce of self-control he had, he broke off the kiss and took a step back. “Hold it right there, sweetheart. We’re not done talking.”

  * * *

  ROSE STARED AT HIM.

  She had always known, despite his sometimes grumpy nature, that Clint was gallant to the core. Not that he ever seemed to be cantankerous around anyone but her.

  It was like she got under his skin as no one else did, and rubbed him the wrong way. Just like he continuously turned her on. And there was only one cure for the quivering need deep inside her. Only one cure for his own physical need.

  “Well, as far as I’m concerned, we are,” she returned, as emotional as he was calm. “And you know why? We’re only on this date because you won it in a bet! And since we understand this is just a fling, there’s no point in examining it too closely.”

  “Speak for yourself.” He took her in his arms and kissed the corner of her mouth. “If we’re doing this...” He kissed the other corner.

  “Oh, we are,” Rose whispered back, unable to help the soft, sultry sound she made in the back of her throat.

  Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Then I’m not letting a second of it go without celebrating it the way it deserves.”

  Excitement roaring through her, Rose wreathed her arms about his neck as he made his way through the first floor, up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. Breathlessly she murmured, “Hey there, cowboy. This is supposed to be a joint venture!” Equal partners, coming together.

  He set her down next to his bed. “Uh-huh. Enough of you taking the lead, Rose.”

  Letting her know with a glance there would be no more negotiating, he reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow. He stepped toward her once again, flashing a sexy grin she found irresistible. “It’s my turn to be in charge.”

  Just that easily, her cardigan was coming off. The zipper on her dress was easing down. His fingers trailed over her spine. Lazily he met her gaze. “Unless you disagree?”

  She watched as he guided her dress past her hips, then grinned at his expression when he saw the rose-colored yoga shorts that had protected her sensitive inner thighs from saddle rub. Definitely not what he was expecting, she thought. Although what lay underneath it might be...

  “Oh, I think this is fine,” Rose said. He knelt before her, helping her out of one cowgirl boot, then the other. Her nipples pearled beneath the lace of her bra.

  He regarded her ardently, a sense of purpose glittering in his eyes. “Just fine?” He pressed his face into her lower midriff.

  Rose shivered as his thumbs traced the most feminine part of her while his lips made a sensual tour of her bare stomach. A slow, warm heat began to fill her. She closed her eyes, lifting herself to him. “Better than fine.”

  He peeled off the shorts, then her lace panties, before rising again to reach behind her and relieve her of her bra. “How much better?” he persisted.

  Before she could answer, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deep and hard, long and slow, his tongue hot and wet and unbearably evocative. Demonstrating just who was in command, he kissed her again until she was lost in the taste and touch and feel of him, lost in the ragged intake of his breath and her own shuddering moan. Yearning welled up inside her until she was his for the taking, and she wanted him, too. So much.

  Still kissing him passionately, she tugged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and jerked open the snaps. That quickly, his magnificent chest was hers to enjoy. He let all he wanted come through in yet another deep, searing kiss, then stepped back, and his eyes on hers, stripped naked, too. Her mouth was dry as he took her hand and lay down with her on the bed.

  “A little bit better?” He cupped the soft swells of her breasts in his palms, loving her with his mouth and his lips and his hands.

  She shook her head, her whole body turning hot and boneless. “Extraordinarily better.”

  He rolled over to kiss her, still fulfilling her desires with shocking ease. His hands went to her hips, and he arched slowly against her. Over and over. And still they kissed, while she concentrated on the warmth of his touch and lower still, the urgency of his body.

  “What about this?” He slid downward.

  She quaked as he found her with his hands, then his lips and tongue. “Oh, ah, that’s...nice...too.” Shuddering, she caught his head in her hands, willing him never to stop.

  She felt him smile against her skin. Unbelievably, he found a way to stroke her even more slowly and erotically. She threw back her head and moaned, and the sound seemed to inspire him even more. “Nice?” he echoed.

  She kept her eyes closed as he stroked around, up, in. “Nice is good,” she defended herself between jagged breaths. So, so good, as a matter of fact.

  He chuckled and shot up to kiss her mouth again. “I was aiming a little higher.”

  He was sure getting there, she thought, as he found her breasts, the center of his palm rubbing and pressing against the taut tips, while his mouth seared and found solace in hers.

  He gripped her hips the way she liked, lifting her and kissing her, until she writhed with passion and moaned for more. “Say, championship-level higher,” he muttered playfully.

  Once again, he left a trail of kisses over her abdomen to her silky-wet center. He used pressure from within and soft tender exterior strokes until there was only a driving, urgent need. She gasped again, moving against him pliantly. Already sliding toward the edge, she wasn’t sure she
could take much more. “Your turn,” she whispered, wanting to give as well as receive.

  He smiled in triumph. “Not necessary.”

  She took the condom from him, putting it aside—for now. “You’ll thank me later.” Hand to his chest, she rolled him onto his back.

  “I’m thanking you now.”

  She laughed gently. Hands sliding beneath him, her hair drifting over his spread thighs, she loved him to the very edge. And then loved him some more.

  “Not...without you.” He tightened his hands on her, urging her upward. Together, they worked on his condom, then shifted so her back was to the mattress. His hard body covered hers, surrounding her with masculine warmth, the feel of him pressed up against her giving her a whole-body shiver.

  He kissed her again, long and lingeringly. Drawing out the moment, celebrating the occasion, just the way he had said they would. Their eyes met. They were really doing this. Again. And foolish or not, Rose realized, she wanted him with all her heart and soul.

  Breathing roughly, he parted her thighs with his knee. She surrendered completely, opening herself up to him as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. More kisses followed. With a whisper of her name and a groan, he finally slid home.

  Magic happened. He took; she gave. Then she took and he gave. And suddenly, there was no more waiting. No more wondering. Just the sudden opening of her heart and the fire and passion of their joining. He made love to her as if nothing else in the world mattered. And, Rose realized, feeling more deliriously happy than she ever had in her life, for that brief time, nothing else did.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I guess it’s my turn now,” Clint teased her long moments later.

  Rose’s breathing had finally gone back to normal, but the rest of her was still all riled up. As if sensing the commotion going on deep inside her, Clint rolled onto his side, taking her with him. Arms still clasped warmly around her, he waited until she met his eyes.

  His sexy-gruff demeanor had her relaxing, despite her post-lovemaking jitters. “Your turn? For what?” she asked, making no effort to disguise her confusion.