Tough Luck Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  She kissed him, and her chest tightened as he pulled her close.

  “Duly noted,” she said. “I’ll add it to my list of treats to always have on hand.”

  He nipped at her bottom lip. “You and your lists.”

  She huffed out a breath, a failed attempt at haughtiness considering the position they were in.

  “Yeah, well, if it weren’t for my extremely organized lists, you’d have eaten Kraft macaroni and cheese for dinner followed by a Hostess cupcake.”

  He laughed, then kissed the side of her jaw. “I’m willing to bet you don’t even own a boxed version of mac and cheese—which I do eat on a regular basis along with the occasional cupcake.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t own instant mac and cheese. What do you think I am, a monster? Anyway, say what you want, but I stand by my meal planning lists. And you said yourself it’s the best meal you’ve ever had, so—you’re welcome.”

  They both laughed, and for a long while they lay there like that—teasing and kissing like there was nothing else they’d rather do. And as far as Lily was concerned, it was true.

  Later, when they’d finally resigned themselves to going to sleep, she curled into him, kissing his bare chest, her fingers tracing the still visible bruises over his ribs.

  She waited for his breathing to slow, not yet letting the rise and fall of his torso lull her to sleep.

  “Luke,” she whispered, testing her assumption.

  He didn’t stir.

  She lifted her head, her chest aching as she watched him sleep.

  “I’m not really, am I?” she said, recognizing the realization in her tone. “Safe with you.”

  Because as much as she could let go in the bedroom, trusting him not to let her fall, it was all the moments before—witnessing both birth and death with him at the ranch, riding Ace with him this afternoon, and cooking a meal with something else in her heart other than a simple love of the food she prepared.

  Lying beside her was a man she’d sworn was as close as a person like her could get to having an enemy.

  She laughed, even as her throat tightened, the threat of tears ready to choke her.

  Lying beside her was a man with whom she might be safe in bed, but what about her heart?

  It was twenty to six when she heard his truck roll into the driveway the following Saturday evening. Lily’s heart sped up, but she told herself it was because he was ten minutes early and she still had to write Happy Birthday Ava on the cake and not because they’d gone the whole week without seeing each other.

  He knocked twice on the screen door, a courtesy, really, since she’d left the front door open.

  “Come in!” she called, trying to concentrate on the triple chocolate cake in front of her.

  But when she heard the door open and shut, she couldn’t help but freeze where she stood.

  How would he greet her? Or should she be greeting him, since it was her house? He and Walker were gone for the better part of the week making deliveries to several restaurants up north, so this wouldn’t just be the first time they’d seen each other since—since white chocolate mousse. It would be the first time they’d even spoken.

  “Well doesn’t that just look good enough to eat.” His voice rasped in her ear, and she sucked in a breath.

  “It’s chocolate cake with dark chocolate chunks and chocolate fudge frosting,” she said. “I call it my triple threat cake.”

  He brushed a soft kiss on her neck and spun her to face him.

  “I wasn’t talking about the cake.”

  He looked her up and down, from the fitted bodice of her dress to where it flared out at her knees to the peep-toe red wedges on her feet.

  He whistled. “Are those cherries?” he asked.

  She nodded as she glanced down at the images of the red fruit speckled all over the black fabric. “I like dressing up when the occasion calls for it.” She smiled, then finally drank him in, all the way from his fitted, faded denim shirt to his khaki pants, to the dirty work boots that were just so Luke.

  He winked at her. “So do I.”

  She laughed. “Really?” And he shook his head.

  “God, no. These were my only clean pants. I didn’t even know I owned them. Plus, something told me you’d like a man who could clean up good every now and then.”

  She toed one of his boots with her sandal.

  You could take the man off the ranch…

  She reached for his cheek, her breath catching in her throat. “You dressed up—for me?”

  He shrugged, and she ran her thumb across his stubbled jaw. “And you didn’t shave,” she added. A statement and not a question.

  He shook his head slowly. “This beautiful woman who, by the way, tends to drive me up the goddamn wall, told me if I shaved she’d end things between us. I figured seeing as how we’re just getting started, that’d be a shame.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who tends to drive you up the goddamn wall?”

  He raised a brow. “Did you miss the beautiful part?”

  She huffed out a breath. “No, but has anyone ever taught you how to give a compliment without wrapping it up in an insult? Because if you’re looking for a short tutorial—”

  “Lily?” he said softly.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  And then his mouth was on hers, his palm at the nape of her neck, fingertips hidden in her hair. God she loved how he did that—just put her at ease before her verbal tirade got the best of her.

  She parted her lips, inviting him in, and oh the taste of Luke Everett on her tongue was everything. She wrapped her arms around his waist, then slid them up his back, fingers trailing the tight muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt.

  “How much time do we have,” he said against her lips, his voice rough.

  “Not enough,” she admitted. “Plus I still have to write the message on the cake.”

  He groaned, releasing her after one more kiss, and her body protested, aching at the space growing between them.

  She smoothed out her dress, then pressed a finger to her lips.

  “I think you’re wearing more of my Sinful Cerise than I am now. I’ll have to reapply.”

  One corner of his mouth rose into a crooked devilish grin. He ran his thumb across his lips, wiping away the stain she’d left.

  “I plan on wearing more of that later,” he told her, his voice the devil itself.

  “O-okay,” she said, a tremor in her response as she spun back toward the cake, her knees wobbly just at the thought of later.

  “Come home with me tonight,” he said from behind her as she started writing the word Happy.

  She held her breath, concentrating until, in perfect pink script, she’d finished the words Birthday and Ava. Then she lined the perimeter of the round layer cake with the same color pink roses. Only when she’d finished did she exhale and face him again.

  “Okay,” she said again, her vocabulary reduced to that one word for the time being.

  He grinned. “I almost forgot.” Then he reached for a basket on the opposite counter, one she hadn’t noticed a second ago. “I brought you these.”

  He handed her the basket, which was lined with a red-and-white-checked towel. Inside it was loaded with a variety of—seeds. Or, packets of seeds to be exact.

  “Winter vegetables,” he said. “Looked like you were almost done with your fall harvest. Figured the garden was ready for its winter crop.”

  She swallowed back the knot in her throat. Some men on a first date—if that’s what this was—might bring flowers. But not him.

  “Luke Everett,” she said, shaking her head. “You brought me vegetables.”

  He tipped a nonexistent hat and gave her a cocky grin, one that said nothing got past him. At least, that’s what it would have said to anyone else in the room had there been anyone other than her. But what Lily saw was that this man, who for
years treated her with nothing more affectionate than indifference, had just given her the most thoughtful gift she’d received in longer than she could imagine.

  She set down the basket and then turned to fasten the lid that also acted as the carrying case for the cake.

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning up to kiss him again.

  Then she had the nerve to hope he’d still be around in the coming weeks to help her plant the seeds.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There were already cars in Jack and Ava’s driveway when they arrived, and Luke just shook his head with a laugh.

  “What?” Lily asked.

  She’d reapplied that red lipstick when she’d gotten into the car so that every time he so much as glanced in her direction, the first thing he saw were those full, perfect lips. Lips meant to be kissed by him. Lips that needed to be kissed by him soon.

  “Luke?” she asked, and he realized he’d been staring.

  “Huh?” Shit, he was like a goddamn deer in the headlights all of a sudden. This did not bode well for the rest of the evening, especially for the immediate future.

  “You were laughing to yourself just a second ago,” Lily said. “And then I think you went mildly catatonic.” She raised a brow. “Are you okay?”

  He blew out a breath, then ran a hand through his hair.

  “I told Ava we were coming together,” he admitted. “And believe me, she could not have been happier.”

  She laughed softly. “I know. Ava called me soon after you told her.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and he was still floored that he had the ability to affect her like that.

  “The point is,” he continued, “that while my brothers know I’m bringing you with me tonight—”

  “They haven’t had a chance to give you hell face-to-face yet?”

  “Exactly,” he said. “We may be grown men, but that doesn’t mean we act like it on a regular basis.”

  She narrowed her eyes, then leaned over the protected cake in her lap and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I, for one, appreciate the grown man side of you very much.”

  He chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. “And here I thought you were going to make a joke about me being an irresponsible boy hiding in the body of a man.”

  “Luke Everett,” she said, her breath warm against his ear, “I do not joke about your manhood.”

  He grazed her cheek with his stubbled jaw, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

  “We don’t need to go inside. Do we?” he asked.

  But because they weren’t irresponsible teens who could run off and later be forgiven, she pulled away, patting the plastic dome covering the cake.

  “They would notice if the birthday cake was missing,” she said.

  She yelped as a palm came down hard on the windshield with a double tap.

  “Christ,” he said, staring at Walker where he gave them a knowing grin through the glass.

  “Come on, asshole,” his younger brother said, raising a bottle of beer, as if to toast them both. “Party’s in back.”

  Luke mouthed Fuck you to his brother and pulled the keys from the ignition.

  “And so it begins,” he said, and they both exited the truck.

  “Where did he even come from?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Walker’s got a small workshop at the far end of the stable. He makes furniture, like wooden tables and shit. It’s sort of a side job—when he’s sober. I just hope he wasn’t doing anything stupid like operating machinery with a beer in his hand.”

  Lily’s eyes widened. “Oh—um—I’m going to head into the kitchen,” she said, crossing toward the front porch while he headed for the back deck. “I want to make sure the cake is somewhere safe first.”

  He started to follow her lead. “I’ll come with you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You go. Grab a drink. I’ll be out in a few.” Then she spun toward the house and was up the steps and inside before he could say another word.

  Great. He’d managed to start the evening with a glimpse of the darker side of the Everett clan before they’d even made it to the house. No wonder she’d wanted a minute or two inside. He was pretty sure she was in there rethinking saying yes to coming home with him tonight.

  And why shouldn’t she? He was the irresponsible boy hiding in the body of a man. He didn’t blame her for choosing Tucker that first night, and he wouldn’t blame her for jumping ship now.

  Okay, so that was a balls-out lie—the part about not blaming her for choosing Tucker. Not that she’d ever know that. Because he’d been blaming her for three years when really, the only person responsible for what happened—or what never did—was himself.

  He made his way to the back of the ranch, each step bringing him closer to admitting that what was going on between him and Lily was bigger than he’d anticipated, and he didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

  He was barely up the steps to the deck before Jack slapped a cold, perspiring longneck into his palm.

  “You look like you could use one of these,” his older brother said.

  Luke let out a mirthless laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

  Jack’s laugh was genuine. “Shit. When Ava told me—I didn’t realize how deep you were already in it.” He clinked his bottle with Luke’s. “I need to go say hi to Ava’s parents.”

  That was it? That was all the ribbing he was going to get? “Hey!” he called to Jack, but his back was already turned as he approached his soon-to-be in-laws.

  How deep he was already in it?

  What the hell did that mean?

  “Hey, Uncle Luke!”

  He turned to see Owen in the yard to the side of the deck throwing a Frisbee for his dog, Scully, to chase.

  “What’s up, Shortstop?” Luke said, heading back down the stairs and to the safety of semi-anonymity with his nephew.

  Owen rolled his eyes. “I still don’t play shortstop.”

  Luke shrugged. “It’s still your nickname. So deal with it.”

  He ruffled the kid’s hair, and Owen swatted his hand away. At ten years old, he already seemed miles ahead of Luke as far as emotional maturity. But he guessed his nephew’s stable home life had something to do with that. Even before Jack came into his son’s life, Owen and Ava had a good thing going. Now that good thing was better.

  Luke could barely remember good.

  “Did you bring my mom a present?” Owen asked.

  Luke took a swig of his beer. “I brought the woman who made your mom’s fantastic birthday cake, so I think that counts.”

  Scully bounded up to them with the Frisbee in his mouth, and Luke dropped down to take it from him and throw it again.

  “Besides,” he said after the dog was off and running once more. “Your mom said no presents. And when your mom tells me what to do, I listen.”

  Owen laughed. “I guess that’s pretty smart. Still, I got her a weekend alone with Dad. Well, me and my grandparents did. She’s been so busy with school that we’re sending them away for a few days when she has a break.”

  Something in his chest ached every time he heard Owen refer to his brother as Dad. He’d only come into Owen’s life less than a year ago, yet already Jack was everything their own father had never been. Maybe Luke wasn’t the best at saying things out loud, but he was damn proud of his brother.

  This time Scully didn’t bring the Frisbee all the way back. Instead he stopped in front of a blonde with full red lips and a dress covered in cherries. The dog wasn’t stupid. He dropped his toy at her feet then wagged his tail with what Luke swore was a goddamn grin.

  “Hey, Lily!” Owen waved as he ran over to retrieve his chocolate Lab and the canine’s weapon of mass flirtation.

  She dropped to a squat, balancing on those sandals that made her at least two inches taller, and gave Scully a pat on the head and a much wanted under-the-chin massage.

  “How’s my Mr. Scully?” she asked in the type of voice reserved only for speaking to ani
mals. Scully dropped to his back, and she rubbed his belly like it had been her intent in coming here—to simply put this dog into a state of complete and utter bliss.

  Luke approached, Owen already in the grass joining in on the animal pampering.

  “Shameless flirt,” Luke mused, staring down at the dog with one brow cocked in accusation.

  Lily rested her arms on her knees and looked up at him. “I wonder who taught him,” she said. “Every time I’m here it’s like he knows exactly what to do to make me putty in his hands.” Scully gave a soft howl, and she went back to rubbing his belly. “You’re right,” she said. “Shameless.”

  Luke studied her a moment before he spoke again.

  “Every time you’re here?” he asked. “I’m here nearly every day,” he said. “Unless I’m training. But I’d swear the first time I saw you here was the morning you unwittingly decided to cater your ex-husband’s wedding.”

  He hadn’t meant the comment to sound so harsh, but it was too late. She stood, narrowing her gaze at him, then glanced back down at his nephew and dog. “I’ll be back for more snuggles in a bit, Mr. Scully. You’ll keep him busy until then, Owen?”

  The dog was licking Owen’s face, the boy giggling uncontrollably.

  “Sure, Lily,” he said between laughs, and she started sauntering away—without Luke.

  “Hey,” he called after her. He’d just been a dick, but he didn’t think it warranted her walking away. “Hey,” he said again, catching up to her before she made it up the steps and to the deck. “Jesus, Lily. I’m sorry.”

  She spun to face him, her green eyes unreadable.

  “You were an asshole,” she said softly. “And I didn’t want to swear in front of Owen. He makes Ava pay actual money when she does.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Oh I know about the swear jar, and as far as being an asshole, you beat me to it. I was.”

  She shook her head. “Not just now. I mean, yeah, just now, too. But that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “I don’t follow,” he said.