by Kim Redford
He gave a snort at that one, shaking his head. “Not damn likely.”
“Whatever the case, I appreciate your help, and I gladly accept it.” She stuck out her hand for a shake.
He wanted to draw her against his chest and give her a big, hard hug to seal the deal. But he didn’t figure he could stop hugging her if he ever started, and he wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the gesture. He settled for a quick, gentle shake of her soft, strong hand. It wasn’t much on the Richter scale, but it still shook him like a leaf in a wild storm. How the hell was he going to be around her when she kept him on fire every single minute? He’d better buy a pair of loose-fitting jeans. And then he thought of the photo shoot.
All he could say was that, sure as shootin’, the ladies buying the cowboy firefighter calendar were going to get their money’s worth with Mr. December.
Chapter 3
Sydney could hardly believe her good luck. Out of the blue, Dune Barrett had simply volunteered his services for the calendar—as well as Christmas at the Sure-Shot Drive-In. If she were the suspicious type, she’d think he had an ulterior motive. But she wouldn’t let it matter one way or another, because she could ill afford to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever his motives, she desperately needed somebody’s help. Now that she had it, she could forge ahead.
First, she had to go to Sure-Shot and get a lay of the land. Bert Holloway owned the drive-in with his son, Bert Two. He’d said they’d upgraded and updated the place while keeping as much of the original structure and fixtures as possible. Wishful thinking or actual reality, she didn’t know, but she needed to find out. One thing for sure, she’d seen the trashy, overgrown mess last spring when they’d bought it, so almost anything would be an improvement.
She felt the heat of Dune’s gaze and glanced up at him. He’d moved closer. She inched toward Celeste, but if she backed up any farther, she’d be impaled on the longhorns. Drat that gleam in his blue eyes. He had it whenever he was around her, and it had a tendency to strike sparks in her.
“You want me to look under the hood?” He leaned forward with a little quirk of his sensual lips.
So kissable. She squashed that thought and immediately was swamped with another one that had him looking under her skirt instead of the hood. What was wrong with her? She definitely did not want him looking anywhere but at her convertible. She had to get her mind back on business.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Yes!” She was in a hurry to get away from him, or she’d be wearing tank tops instead of sweaters this Christmas.
“You want to step away from Celeste?”
How could she when he was right in front of her? If she made a single move, she’d be right up against his body. If she could’ve, she would’ve looked into the distance to try to clear her mind of unacceptable thoughts, but she couldn’t see over his broad shoulders. He totally filled her world with his presence.
“Guess you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
She rolled her eyes. He didn’t know the half of it. She caught her lower lip with her upper teeth in frustration.
He reached out, tugged her lip free with the pad of his thumb, and gently rubbed back and forth as if to soothe a hurt. “No need to worry. I’m here to help you now.”
She felt chills run up her spine at his gentleness and concern. She didn’t mean to do it—and wouldn’t have been so bold if he hadn’t short-circuited her brain—but she flicked the tip of her tongue over the edge of his thumb and tasted the essence of him. All male.
“Now, why’d you go and do something I can’t resist?” He eased his thumb across her lower lip, down her jaw, and captured the back of her neck with his fingers to hold her head in place as he lowered his face toward her.
She knew a kiss was coming—right on the side of Wildcat Road in front of the whole county—and she knew she should say something or do something to stop him, but she wanted his kiss more than anything else she could imagine at that moment. It’d been so long since a man had held her or kissed her that she wasn’t sure she even knew how to respond anymore.
When his lips finally touched hers—just a gentle brush really, as if he was gauging her response—she felt swept up in a blazing wildfire.
And yet she sought to keep her wits about her. She should focus on business, not her own sudden need. She put her hands flat against his broad chest to push him back, but she quickly realized she couldn’t budge him, because he was so much bigger and stronger. She felt a little shock. She was five ten—although she’d claimed to be six feet tall since her high school basketball days when height was critical—and sported enough muscle to work a ranch, but he made her feel almost petite.
She intended to push him away—absolutely, no doubt about it. Instead, she found her hands slowly sliding up his chest, making her hyperaware of the soft cotton of his shirt as his muscles hardened under her touch. All her senses came shockingly alive. She heard a mockingbird’s song, caught the tangy scent of cedar trees, and Dune’s taste still lingered on her tongue. He didn’t move a millimeter—as if he’d waited a lifetime for her to touch him.
When she reached his shoulders, he gave her another feather-light kiss that promised more than it gave. Not nearly enough, not now that her mind had given way to her body. She sighed against his soft lips and clasped his shoulders to pull him closer. He groaned as if the ragged sound was torn from his gut at her response to him. She returned his kiss, teasing his lips with the tip of her tongue until she tore another groan from him, and he plunged inside while he crushed her against him, holding her head in one hand and her waist in the other as if he’d never let her go.
She moaned as she thrust her fingers into his thick hair, shivering with heat as he plundered her mouth and made her weak in the knees. She quickly realized that she had an answer to her question. No, indeed, she hadn’t forgotten how to give or receive a kiss, particularly one of this magnitude.
Finally, when she was putty in his hands, he raised his head and looked at her with eyes the color of midnight. She simply blinked in response, unable to articulate a single word.
“If you let me into your life, I promise not to disappoint you.”
She took a deep breath, trying to bring her mind back online. “I doubt you could disappoint me, not after that, that—”
“Hot kiss?”
She nodded, feeling her chill turn to heat as if her body were waking up from a long winter’s nap.
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then stepped back, reluctantly letting her go. “If you want me to apologize for rushing you, I will, but—”
“No, I’m not sorry.”
“Good. I’m not either.”
She shook her head to discourage him, trying to think business instead of pleasure, but for the life of her, she couldn’t say the words that would support her gesture. Instead, she quickly walked away from him. She stopped and looked back. With distance between them, she felt her brain kick into gear again. “Why don’t we forget our momentary lapse in judgment?”
“I won’t forget. Can you?”
“Yes.” She deliberately looked away so he wouldn’t see the untruth in her eyes. She just didn’t know if she was ready—if she’d ever be ready—to move on with her life.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said with a growl, stalking toward her. “We both deserve better.”
She held up a hand. “Please, I’ve got so much to do and—”
“I told you I’d help.” He put his hands on his hips as he stared hard at her. “I won’t lie to you. I want you, and that’s not going to change because we’re working together.”
“You know I’m a widow.” She wished he hadn’t come right out and said what’d been between them since the day they’d met, because now she had to deal with it in the open.
“I heard your husband was a hero.” He hesitated, as if considering what to say next.
“You have my sympathy for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She usually kept her emotions private, and that meant she wanted to get past this awkward moment as quickly as possible. “What I’m trying to say is that I doubt I’ll ever get over my grief, even after two years.”
He raised one hand as if to implore her to change her mind, then dropped it to his side. “I understand how you feel. I really do. But if you’ll give us a chance—”
She felt her heart beat faster at the thought of finding solace in this man’s arms. “Why don’t we just focus on work?”
“That’s a lot easier said than done.”
She nodded in agreement, realizing that she wanted to explore Dune’s kisses to see where they’d take her—maybe far, far from her old anguish. But could she so easily set aside her lost love?
“Okay. I’m willing to put us on a slow boil. For now.”
“It’s for the best, surely.”
“I’m not so sure, but—”
“For now,” she interrupted, determined to get back on track and away from painful emotions. “I need to get to Sure-Shot and check out the drive-in.”
“Make that us from now on. I’ll give Kent a quick call later, but I doubt he’ll say no to my request for some time off. If he does, you’ve got me when I can get away from the ranch.”
“Thanks.” For some reason, she felt surprisingly happy about that single word “us.” She must’ve been kidding herself for months that she didn’t want Dune’s attention, because the opposite was obviously true.
“Okay.” He turned toward Celeste. “Let’s get this beauty back on the road. Did you run over any potholes getting here? Maybe something jarred loose.”
“The road out of the ranch has gotten pretty rough this winter. Slade said he’d take care of it, but he hasn’t had time. I doubt it’ll get any better till after the holidays.”
“If Celeste is in good shape like you were told, I’d guess it’s probably a loose cable. If so, I can fix it right now.”
“That’d be perfect.”
“I’ll take a look.” He opened the hood and bent over the engine. “These babies are built tough.”
She walked around so she could watch him. Of course, he was stretched out over the engine and looking as fine as her pretty Caddy. She felt her heart speed up at the sight. If she didn’t get over his hot body, working with him would be sheer torture.
“Here we go.” He stuck a hand into the car’s innards. “Battery cable came loose.”
“Is that a big problem?”
“No. Looks like a new battery. I guess somebody didn’t tighten the nut on the terminal enough, so the cable came off.” He stood up, closed the hood, and turned around. “I tightened it with my fingers. She’ll go now and get you away from the side of the road, but I still need to finish the job with a wrench or even pliers later.”
“Thanks.” She noticed he had grease or dirt or something dark on his fingers. “Let me get you a wet wipe.”
He glanced down at his hands. “It’s not the first time I got dirty fixing something. And it won’t be the last. Rags in my pickup will do the trick.”
“You’re sure you wouldn’t want—”
“Why don’t you see if she’ll start now?”
Sydney nodded, realizing that wet wipes—so handy with kids around—were probably not nearly macho enough for a cowboy. She smiled at the idea, then opened the car door, sat down inside, and turned the key in the ignition. Celeste’s engine immediately roared to life.
Dune walked over, leaned down, and smiled at her. “That’s just what I wanted to hear. She’s got a well-tuned motor, so all should be fine now.”
“What a relief.” She returned his smile. “I’d hate to be stranded out on the open road.”
“Could be dangerous,” he said in a serious tone. “You’ve got my number in your phone, don’t you?”
“Just in case, I have all the volunteer firefighters’ cell numbers.”
“Good. If you get into any more trouble, call me first.”
“But you said—”
“I don’t expect any problems from this beauty, but you never know. I want you to be safe.”
She felt touched by the concern in his eyes. It’d been a long time since she’d gotten that protective look from a man. But she also felt sadness, because he reminded her of all that was gone from her life.
“Are you headed to the drive-in?”
“That’s my plan.”
“How about I follow you to make sure you get there without trouble. And I can finish tightening that loose nut there.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
“Remember, we’re in this together now.”
She nodded, feeling the warmth he’d generated spread outward to engulf her entire body. “Okay. I’ll see you at the drive-in, Mr. December.”
He laughed, shaking his head, as he turned and sauntered toward his dually with one hand in the air to wave goodbye.
She watched him a moment, then put Celeste in gear and tore off down Wildcat Road as if she could escape the burning inside her.
Chapter 4
Dune trailed Sydney in his pickup like an old-timey cowhand on his horse dogging two thousand head of longhorns on a cattle drive that covered six hundred miles or more of rough territory. In those days, he’d be headed north toward Kansas, instead of southwest toward Sure-Shot. Still, direction or timeline made little difference. He was a cowboy with a goal to make life better in Wildcat Bluff County and in particular for a cowgirl named Sydney Steele.
She turned heads just as she always did wherever she went. Vehicles slowed so passersby could get a better look at the powder-pink convertible driven by a hot woman with her blond hair whipped wild by the wind.
He wanted Sydney wild in his arms, but he might have to settle for sedate by his side. At least she’d be in his life, and he’d get a chance to explore his super-charged feelings for her.
As he drove, he glanced at the countryside. It was a study in contrasts. Folks here lived easily with the past existing right alongside the present. Fact of the matter, they took pride in their heritage and encouraged visitors to do the same thing. He’d been around long enough to contract that same bug and get some education on local history.
Wildcat Road had originally been known as Wildcat Trail. Now the old wagon lane had been paved and was the major highway in and out of the small town of Wildcat Bluff, which had started out as a ferry point on the Red River between Texas and Indian Territory.
He was traveling down a section of land called the Cross Timbers that had originally been part of the Comancheria—the Comanche empire that had stretched from central Kansas to Mexico. The unique prairie was densely bordered by interwoven trees, shrubs, and vines—such as post oak, cedar elm, bois d’arc, dogwood, Virginia creeper, and blackberry—and could be as narrow as three miles in some places or spread out to thirty miles in others. In the old days, there’d been a brush fire every year, and the border would grow back too dense to penetrate. Comanche warriors had used the prairie between the two vegetative lines as a secret passage so that enemies couldn’t see or attack them.
Now much of the Cross Timbers old growth was gone, but folks in Wildcat Bluff County had saved their section for posterity. He figured that was because many of the residents were descended from the Comanche and still protected their original homeland, where rich grasslands and rolling hills provided grazing for cattle, buffalo, horses, and wild critters such as deer.
He felt an affinity with the Comanche, because his German ancestors had long ago made a treaty with them to settle and farm fertile land in the Comanche territory now known as the Hill Country. Interestingly enough, the German-Comanche treaty was the only one in the United States that had never been broken by settlers. To commemorate their long-standing connection, an annual German-Co
manche parade was held in Fredericksburg.
As he thought about cultural events, he was reminded to call Kent about taking time off to help Sydney. He had his cell on the dash, so he hit speed dial and speaker phone.
“Where’d you disappear to?” Kent asked when he answered his phone.
Dune chuckled, knowing how his response was going to affect his friend. “I had to see a cowgirl about a pink Cadillac.”
Kent guffawed on the other end of the line. “Hot?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean the Caddy, not the gal.”
Dune laughed harder. “Both.”
“Vintage?”
“Car, not cowgirl.”
“You got some way about you.” Kent snorted. “I don’t know why I’m even surprised you could be out on a mostly empty road and snag a hot cowgirl—and a vintage Caddy. What year?”
“Nineteen fifty-nine convertible. Prime.”
“And you’re calling, why? To gloat?”
“Nope. Anyhow, you’d only be interested in the Cadillac since you got hooked up with gorgeous Lauren.”
“True enough. So, wait a minute, are you talking about Mr. Werner’s famous Celeste?”
“Right.”
“That means you’re talking about Sydney, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” Dune was trying to sound casual, but he doubted if he was hitting that tone. “Any problem with me taking some time off till after Christmas?”
“Are you going to the Hill Country?”
“Nope. I’m suddenly civic-minded.”
“I’ve got cows in the pasture making more sense than you.”
Dune rubbed the back of his neck, knowing Kent wouldn’t make it easy on him once he learned Sydney was the cause of his change in heart. “I’ll still feed or whatever needs doing first thing in the mornings, but—”
“Okay,” Kent said with a chuckle. “This has got Sydney’s name written all over it. You’ve been bird-dogging her for months with not a chance in hell of getting anywhere. And now—now you want time off. What have you gone and done?”
