by Tori Kayson
And her dates wore pressed designer slacks that coordinated with an expensive suit jacket.
Not…denim.
Not that she had anything against jeans. Especially the way Fargo wore them, all soft from wear and comfortable looking, snug without being skin tight. The cowboy rocked denim. How delicious would he look in a suit?
She gave her head a little shake. What was wrong with her? The man definitely held a grudge for women in corporate America. Which included her.
Just then, he shifted to the back of the wagon and nudged his hat higher on his forehead. Jade eyes glowed directly at her, erasing every rational thought in her head. He broke the connection, gesturing for the dogs to hop up on the wagon.
A shudder trembled up her torso, forcing her gaze away as the duo obeyed. She gulped and rubbed her arms, feeling as exposed and vulnerable as a butterfly pinned to a display board.
Hope’s tail slashed her leg as the dog sniffed a trail. Charity huffed and sank down on one of her sneakers.
Smiling, Darby smoothed the dog’s fur.
“Now that’s a cowboy I’d love to—”
“All aboard, Chips. Let ’er roll.” Fargo’s clipped harsh tone interrupted Elsa’s obnoxiously loud whisper. In one easy athletic move, he hopped up on the bed of the wagon. His jaw clenched so tight that a tic pulsed in the back of his cheek. He frowned at his sister, who winced and turned to chat with the person beside her.
Fargo plopped down, the seesaw motion almost flipping her from the too narrow bale, his eyes mere slits, his expression a solid wall of granite. Was the cowboy sorry he was forced to sit next to her?
Darby couldn’t deny the hurt that rushed in.
“Mind if I share your seat belt, city girl?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just scooted closer, putting some space between him and Elsa. Huffing, he locked arms over his chest. His bare arm brushed hers, sending her pulse to gallop into high gear.
So maybe it wasn’t her that the handsome rancher didn’t want to sit near, but rather, the alluring Elsa? That was a shocker. All the guys in the office flocked around the busty blonde worse than bees swarmed a honeycomb.
The trailer lurched forward, the momentum shoving her against his hard-as-steel chest.
“Whoa, there. You all right?” He steadied her, his fingers curling around each arm. Strength and confidence etched his too-handsome face.
Mistake number two.
Thinking that Jayce’s presence would calm this irrational attraction. This cowboy’s vibes could charm a bear from its winter slumber.
“I’m so sorry!” She sucked in a breath, heat tingling her skin, and jerked back, away from the warmth of his touch.
But not far enough that his clean scent didn’t drift over her. Spice and leather, woods and springtime all blended into one intoxicating fragrance. She lifted her nose and took a deep sniff.
Oh, why hadn’t she opted to hide out in her room tonight? Where it was safe from one very handsome cowboy.
Where dreams of a forever love and family couldn’t bud in her heart.
She snorted.
Forever and love didn’t go together. Men only sought her out for the prestige and promise her last name carried. Not because they valued or appreciated her company.
Just her father’s.
Besides, women probably threw themselves at this cowboy all the time. She was so not going back down that road again.
A star flashed across the sky. The bright light flickered and then faded against the now inky black sky.
That’s all this was. A retreat into a fantasy. A brief diversion from reality.
Reality was…a job that demanded almost constant travel. A career that wasn’t conducive to fostering trust or maintaining a committed relationship. Just because a man said he was okay with her being away so much didn’t mean he could handle extended absences or even deeper issues like loyalty, faithfulness, chastity.
Hadn’t her ex-fiancé proven that?
And, even more of a wakeup call, if she couldn’t get the family’s approval to install a rig on their ranch, she could kiss the coveted Vice President’s position in Brewster Oil, a title she’d been working toward her entire life, goodbye.
That, Darby Brewster, is your reality.
A lump crawled down her throat as the horses plodded along, the excited chatter coming from the trailer bed competing with the clomping of hooves. Stars popped out across the wide expanse of sky, and a sweet breeze kissed her cheeks.
She sighed, something deep and painful and raw. Like she’d just yanked that blossoming flower right out, killing a dream.
Maybe she had.
§
“That was an awfully big sigh. You’re not enjoying the ride?” Fargo asked, leaning in toward Darby. The more space he carved out between him and the broad on the other side, the better.
Elsa, was it? What had he done to give that woman even the slightest invitation? He shook his head, disgust welling up again at what she’d almost blurted out in front of his son.
Darby’s head whipped around. Naked longing glimmered from her eyes before she had a chance to shutter them. Another sigh lifted her chest. When her lids opened, the vulnerable look had disappeared, replaced by…determination, resolve?
What was that all about? And why was he even trying to strike up a conversation with her?
She belonged to the city, and she’d sold her soul to Brewster Oil.
Why hadn’t he put the pieces together earlier?
A relationship with her was a surefire road to trouble and heartache. Maybe he could handle it, maybe he couldn’t. But Jayce was the main reason he didn’t let a woman slither into his personal life anymore. He refused to allow another female to hurt his son. He scrubbed a hand against his jaw, the whiskers scraping his palm.
“Actually, it’s wonderful. Just what the cowboy ordered, wasn’t it?” Her lips curved in just a hint of a smile, and her warm espresso eyes glittered in the moonlight.
Just then a berry scent— her hair? —drifted over him along with the soft breeze from the sway of the wagon. He leaned in and sniffed, powerless to fight the draw of her subtle fragrance and even sweeter smile.
Talking was safe enough, he figured. But that’s as close he’d allow himself to get to Darby Brewster.
“I suppose…” He licked dry lips, thinking back on that conversation, remembering not so much what he’d said, but more the way his heart had thundered in his chest. Much like now. Could she hear it? “…you might have taken it that way. Was I right?”
“Totally.” A dreamy expression glazed her eyes. But then she jerked her head away to stare out into the darkness.
All right. So maybe she didn’t want to talk to him. She was probably used to dating bigwig oil executives. Not lowly ranchers like him.
For the best. He should have just squeezed in next to Jayce and Uncle Chips. It wasn’t too late to switch to the front. He propped a palm against the stiff bundle, pressed his boots—
“The sky seems so wide open out here.” The hushed voice, awed and somewhat reverent, broke through his best intention. “So different than in downtown Dallas.”
So she wasn’t ignoring him. He forced his limbs to relax and took a deep breath as relief pumped through his veins. Or was it something else?
“All those tall buildings block most of your view,” he said, studying her profile, captivated by the enchanted expression on her face.
He loved his ranch, but not everybody shared his sentiments, especially not big city dwellers.
A fresh ache of loss squeezed his gut. Officially, it wasn’t his ranch. But his dad might as well have deeded it to him. Neither of his brothers showed any interest in ranching, and Kierra would eventually marry and move away. It was up to him to make a go of the ranch and provide his mother with a stable, forever home, and then, hopefully, Jayce would take over the ranch’s reins.
Darby’s dark head angled toward him. She nodded, the moon’s glow reflecting from her face. “T
hat must be it. But there’s more. It’s a sense that I can hold out my arms and turn around without bumping into anybody.”
He chuckled and nudged her with a shoulder. “Well, technically, you did bump into somebody. Me.”
She laughed, a hearty sound that reminded him of springtime coming to life after a long harsh winter. She hadn’t experienced much joy in her life. From working too hard? From the sting of loss at such a young age?
A sudden urge to make her laugh, to hear her delight, to fill her life with sunshine, reared up and kicked him in the gut. So powerful, he sucked in a breath at the intensity. So unwelcome, he kicked it back.
“True, but you have to admit I bumped into you because of Hope and Charity.” Amusement laced her voice.
“You’re blaming your lack of balance on my dogs?” Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face.
Her jaw dropped, and she gave him a playful whack on the arm.
He locked arms across his chest to keep from reaching out and tucking a stray curl behind an ear, just to see if those waves were as silky and soft as he imagined. That wouldn’t be good. Had he lost his mind?
Her chin dipped, and she cleared her throat. When she looked up again, a shy smile graced her lips. “No. I’ll blame it on the fact that I can breathe easier in all this fresh air.”
“Fresh air? Really? All I’m breathing in is some pretty heavy perfume.”
She winced and flashed him a startled look.
“Not you. Her.” He flicked his head toward the blonde on his other side, who was still engrossed in flirtatious conversation with the stiff dude next to her.
Elsa angled around, flashed another seductive grin and lifted her eyebrows.
He barely managed to corral the snort of disgust. No thanks!
He twisted closer to Darby. Not like he had a choice, right?
A curly lock tickled his bare arm. It was as silky and soft as he imagined.
“Does she always douse herself with the entire bottle? Or come on to every guy wearing boots?”
Even in the darkness, he could make out the slight roll of her eyes. She shook her head, but didn’t say anything.
The horses plodded into the ranch yard, and regret warred with gratefulness. He wasn’t ready for the evening to end, but he was more than ready to get away from the obnoxious blonde. Before the horses came to a complete stop, he hopped down from the back and retrieved the wooden box he’d fashioned to assist the guests on and off the cart.
He nodded and offered assistance to all the passengers, cringing when it was Elsa’s turn. He braced himself and held out a hand.
“I always knew cowboys were gracious and helpful. And incredibly sexy,” she drawled. She ignored his outstretched hand and curled her claws around both his shoulders. She all but fell off the cart, landing hard against his chest.
He dug his boots in the ground to keep from falling backwards.
“You can catch me anytime,” Blondie purred, brushing her busty bosom against his chest.
His boots did a little back step, and he almost tumbled over a grassy knoll in his haste to get away.
“What’s the hurry, cowboy? We haven’t had a chance to get to know each other,” she said, snagging his forearm. She peered up at him, her lips full and pouty, her face plastered with makeup. Her talons switched gears, poised to dig into his chest.
He gritted his teeth, trying really hard to mask his disgust for his sister’s sake. He circled the woman’s upper arms, and with a firm grip, planted her a few feet away. “Thanks, but I’m…” What? Committed? Definitely not interested?
Her spiked heels— What woman would ever think to wear those blasted four-inch heels to a ranch? — wobbled in the dirt as she attempted to regain the ground she’d lost.
If she got up in his space any more—
“Elsa, how about a drink?” A male voice interrupted the woman’s determined march toward him.
The blonde swiveled around, her attention now focused elsewhere.
Jayce stood at the back of the wagon, waiting for Darby. Both of them stood statue-still, eyes wide and jaws hanging open.
“Show’s over.” Thank heaven!
“Is that woman all right, Dad?”
All right? Other than being a pain? “Yes. She’s fine. Nothing a decent pair of shoes wouldn’t fix.” He took in Darby’s sensible sneakers and smiled as he extended an arm.
“Thank you.” Darby blinked, as if coming out of a trance, but allowed him to help. She jumped down and dragged her hand from his grasp. She pivoted toward the house, her wavy hair shimmery and soft as it cascaded onto her back.
Her departure left his hand cold, naked, void. He shook it to regain feeling, to restore his balance. What was up with him lately?
“My pleasure,” he said. Actually, the pleasure of her company surprised him. That he acknowledged it surprised him even more.
And scared him!
He bent over and toed the makeshift stool until it parked next to a tree then scanned the heads for Kierra. Where’d she go? This group belonged to her now.
“Looking for your sister?” Darby’s soft voice startled him. She hadn’t wandered off to find her friend?
“Yeah.” His voice came out more gruff than he intended. But for some reason Darby had that effect on him. His brain said one thing while his heart whispered something entirely different. Confound the woman!
“She took off that way.” A slender finger pointed toward the house.
Figures. Kierra escaped and left him with the corporate city slickers. He huffed.
“It wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Her sweet smile toyed with his already frayed pulse. As if riding next to her hadn’t inflicted enough damage.
Bad? No. Definitely not.
Terrifying? Yes!
He inhaled, taking comfort in the scents of the ranch as Jayce and Uncle Chips passed by, leading the horses to the barn. Horses and leather, cows and pasture, and now only a hint of berries.
He relaxed his spine. Let out a cleansing breath. “Not now.”
His honesty earned a dazzling smile. One that could light up a dark Texas night.
Or ignite a fire long since burned out.
Whoa! Where did that come from?
He gulped and jerked his head toward the barn. “I really need to help care for the horses and get them bedded—”
Bed. Wed. Fled.
Shoot the deuce! He shook his head, dislodging the disjointed words from his brain. He would not allow this woman to make it on a page in his poetry book. “—for the night.”
“Sure.” Was that disappointment that flashed across her features?
“But I don’t feel comfortable leaving this crowd to themselves.” Who knew what trouble they’d get into unescorted on the ranch?
Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, he liked where he was right now.
Nature’s nighttime symphony drowned out the chatter of the corporate bigwigs, reducing their babble to a hum in his ear. And how could he complain when a gorgeous woman stood next to him under a star speckled sky?
“I promise they won’t cause any trouble.” Her hand slid a wavy lock behind an ear, and her espresso eyes glowed with warmth and depth. In her pressed khakis topped by a ruffled cotton blouse and sneakers, she looked comfortable here, almost as if she didn’t fit in with the crowd of stiff-necked suits herself.
How could that be? Her last name was oil.
Suddenly he wanted to find out more about this enigma called Darby.
A screen door slapped, and Slade sauntered to the barn. Three able bodies could manage the horses.
“So what do you do for fun on a Saturday night?” Might as well start there.
She scoffed. “Fun?”
“Yeah. You know. Those activities you enjoy doing. When you’re not working, that is.” Did her life consist of anything besides her career? Did she have any hobbies? Was she involved in a relationship?
His jaw clamped tight. Now why would he care about that
?
“Hmmm…” Her finger tapped her lips.
Full, cherry red lips. Runaway horses couldn’t jerk his gaze away.
“Sometimes I go for a run or hit a gelato bar.” She tilted her head, obviously having a little difficulty with the question. “Some evenings I go out to dinner and a movie with my friend Kate and her husband. Some nights, I just hang out at my condo…”
He arched his brows and folded arms over his chest, daring her to confess.
She huffed. “…and catch up on work.”
Just as he suspected. The woman didn’t know how to relax.
Should he show her how? The idea appealed to him. More than it should.
“Everything’s all set in the patio area. If you’d like to meander on over, you can enjoy cheese and crackers, and wine or coffee.” Kierra’s voice carried across the night.
So that’s where Kierra had disappeared.
The guests followed his sister just like cattle at feeding time, but Darby stayed put. She speared him with a warm smile and a hopeful expression. “I better head on in and check on Kate. But I’d like to chat more. See you tomorrow?”
Count on it. “I’ll be here.”
~ CHAPTER 5 ~
Fargo nudged the screen door open with his boot and squeezed outside. Steam curled up from the mug, the strong java scent and tattered notebook under his arm reviving him. He twisted around, keeping the screen door open with his elbow. “I’ll be out on the porch.”
“All right, Dad,” Jayce said, without sparing a glance his way. His son stretched out on the sofa, his favorite science fiction show blaring from the television. His boots hiked over the edge of the couch. Hands curled under the back of his head. Clearly, his son didn’t have any problem filling his Sunday afternoons.
Nor his dogs. Hope and Charity sprawled on either side of Jayce. Hope opened his eyes and heaved a giant sigh before closing them again. Charity’s head popped up, but only for an instant. He plopped his head back down on top of his paws with a huff. They wouldn’t miss him for a while.
Chuckling, he let the screen door slap against the frame, the sound of the television fading into the background the farther he moved across the porch. He set his mug and notebook down.
