Prairie Heat (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #1)

by Tessa Layne

  “Maddie? You okay?” Blake stuck his head in, his eyes lighting as they met hers.

  Had he shaved? How long had he been up?

  “Sleep okay?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You?”

  He smiled ruefully. “It was better than sleeping on the ground during a bison drive. But only a little.”

  He had definitely cleaned up. He looked entirely too composed and fresh for having spent the night on a lumpy couch.

  “May I?” He pushed the door open a bit wider, and held out a steaming mug of coffee.

  She couldn’t help smiling. “You figured out my dad’s ancient coffee pot? That thing makes terrible coffee.”

  “Use one just like it when we move the herd. And I promise, I don’t drink bad coffee unless I have to.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. Her heart pounded a little harder against her ribs. She stood and reached for the mug, wrapping her hands around its warmth. She ducked her head and took a sip. Silence stretched awkwardly between them.

  “You can keep the coat if you like.”

  Her head snapped up to meet his penetrating gaze. It was hard to tell what was behind his eyes, and it made her squirm. Was he teasing her?

  She should have crawled under the covers like a normal person. Not that there was anything remotely normal about this situation. She’d never spent the night here without her dad, and now Blake was towering over her in her bedroom.

  Yeah. Awkward.

  The air between them grew heavy.

  She handed him back the mug and started shrugging out of the coat, suddenly wanting to put distance between them. “Here.” She held out the coat. “I should have given it back last night.”

  His eyes softened. “Keep it.”

  “No. Really. I’m sure I can borrow something over at Martha and Eddie’s.”

  He studied her intently. “Don’t you keep a change of clothes here?”

  She shook her head. “Why would I?”

  “It’s your home.” A note of disbelief entered his voice.

  Irritation blossomed, and she pushed on her glasses. “Not.”

  “Prairie’s not all bad, Maddie.”

  She rolled her eyes, dropping her arm. “The one thing you and my dad have in common. May I have my coffee back please?”

  His mouth flattened, and he handed her the mug. “You need to get off your high horse about the people in this town.” He spun on his heel and left, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

  Why did everything with him have to be a sparring match? Or a kiss fest?

  Fighting or fucking.

  She took another sip of the coffee. The man did make a mean cup of coffee. Way better than her dad’s.

  Whatever was between them would simply have to be ignored. She needed to get her dad sorted and then find a decent internet connection so she could keep working during her stay. The one at Martha and Eddie’s was spotty and not secure, so that was out. As was the public library. They were still on dial-up. She could book a hotel in Manhattan, but that was public wi-fi. At least there she could skype her team. If she was incommunicado for more than a few days, her boss would have her head.

  Squaring her shoulders resolutely, she rooted in her bag for yesterday’s work clothes. First things first. She needed a shower. Taking her mug with her, she headed down the hall to the bunkhouse’s sole bathroom. The shower hadn’t been used. Did that mean Blake had gone home to shower and then returned? Shaking her head, she turned on the water. He was the least of her worries.

  Twenty minutes later, she emerged ready to meet the day, and was met by the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen.

  Geez.

  He made decent coffee and he made breakfast? What else was going to surprise her about Blake Sinclaire? Her dad never made her breakfast.

  She paused at the threshold to the kitchen, studying Blake over the stove. He moved with the practiced ease of someone who regularly made breakfast. Broad shoulders pulled his shirt taut across his back. And his ass… Heat bloomed in her chest, leaving her breathless. His Levi’s perfectly molded to his backside and left little… No. Too much to her imagination. Her pussy throbbed eagerly as she stared, captivated.

  He turned and grinned as his eyes raked over her. Her flesh tingled under his gaze.

  “A little overdressed for the hospital?”

  Embarrassment that he’d caught her staring replaced the warm fuzzies. “Of course I am,” she said a little too brusquely. “I went straight from the Fermilab stables to the airport.”

  He tutt-tutted as he turned back to the skillet. “I see mornings agree with you. Sit down. This will be ready in a sec.”

  She shouldn’t have snapped at him that way. But he just… got under her skin in the most irritating way. Like a pricker in her sock. There was no place in her life for an agitator. An outlier. She couldn’t concentrate around him… couldn’t think. She did irrational things around him like… kiss, and pour beer down people’s pants.

  He… set her off balance.

  Made her…..feel things.

  Blake Sinclaire was quite possibly the most challenging, unpredictable man she’d ever met. And that meant she needed to get home and back to her orderly, predictable life as quickly as possible.

  He placed a plate in front of her filled with the standard country breakfast fare. Bacon, fried eggs, and potatoes. Might as well jam a needle of cholesterol right into her heart. She’d bet the last dollar in her wallet if she peeped in the fridge, there wouldn’t be anything green.

  “Can I refill your coffee?”

  “Stop being so chivalrous.”

  He scowled. “Look. I know your type. You exist on too much coffee and only eat when someone waves food in your face. You’ve had a helluva past twenty-four hours, and I’m guessing the only thing you’ve consumed in the last day besides coffee were the peanuts on the plane.”

  So. Busted.

  He stood over her, arms crossed over his chest. Her eyes drifted to the muscles pulling his sleeves tight.

  “Am I right?”

  She didn’t need to answer because the flush was already crawling up her neck.

  “Thank you. I apologize.”

  He pulled out the chair across from her, and sat down as she dug into her breakfast. It was good. Surprisingly so.

  “Accepted.” He rocked back on the chair legs. “I know this is a stressful time, but try and accept that there are people besides your immediate family who might want to help you.”

  “I’m a Hansen. We don’t take handouts.”

  No need for handouts when she could survive just fine on her own, thank you very much. Being dependent on someone else was flat out dangerous.

  She couldn’t do it. It was too risky. Both professionally and emotionally. She’d learned that lesson in both arenas times ten from Marcus. She wouldn’t make that mistake. Not ever again.

  He banged the chair legs back down, scowling. “Jesus, Maddie. No one’s giving you a handout.”

  She was clearly losing this argument, and the expression on his face said he wasn’t about to let it go. So she did what any right thinking person would do. She changed the subject.

  “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

  A sardonic smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he shook his head. “You can play it that way if you want, Maddie. But our conversation isn’t over.”

  “C’mon.” She propped her chin on her hand and gave him what she hoped passed for a flirtatious grin. “Who taught you to cook?”

  Blake shook his head, laughing a little. “Mrs. Sanchez, our housekeeper. But I’m only good for breakfast. She preps dinner several times a week.”

  If she kept bombarding him with questions, they wouldn’t drift back into dangerous territory. “So when did you eat?

  “At about five this morning, over at my place.”

  “Wait. How’d you get over there?” He rolled his eyes. “On a horse. Ben rode over with a mount and
we rode back together. Your cushy city life has softened you.”

  “I wouldn’t call the hours I keep cushy.”

  “By choice, not necessity.”

  She waved a piece of bacon at him. “There’s a reason I left Prairie, cowboy.”

  He cocked his head at her. “Let me guess. No one understood you.”

  She rolled her eyes at his reference to the previous night’s discussion. If you could call verbal sparring a discussion. “No one could teach me.” She glared at him. The way he got under her skin rankled.

  He returned her glare with a steady gaze, an amused smile flicking at the corners of his mouth. “You’re adorable when you’re wrong.” His eyes smoldered, but he wouldn’t break eye contact.

  She ignored the way her pulse fluttered when he sparred with her. “And you’re arrogant when you think you’re right.”

  His half smile broke into a lazy, triumphant grin. He looked like the devil himself. “Shall we get you to the hospital?”

  She shook her head, pushing her glasses up her nose.

  Oh no.

  Definitely not.

  She refused to be in confined space with him for the two hour round trip.

  “If you hand me Gunnar’s keys, I’ll drive myself thanks. I can drop you off on my way out of town.”

  He smirked, laughter dancing in his eyes. “That ship sailed at dawn, darlin’. You’re stuck with me today.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The ride to the hospital stayed largely silent. And for at least the fiftieth time this morning, he questioned his motives driving Maddie all the way up to Manhattan.

  Ben had ridden over at dawn with his horse, Blaze, and together they’d ridden back for chores and a quick shower. By then it was only seven and he’d driven his truck back over to Warren’s place. He didn’t want her to be alone when she woke up.

  It would have been easier to let Gunnar take her earlier this morning. He’d received more than an eyebrow raise when he answered the door and informed her cousin that Maddie was still sleeping.

  But no.

  He’d insisted on being chivalrous and said he’d bring her up later, drawing yet another raised eyebrow from Gunnar.

  He pulled the truck up to visitor drop-off and shifted into park. He tilted back his Stetson and turned to her. “You go on ahead. I’ll park and be up.”

  She pursed her lips, pushing up her glasses. “No need. You’ve already done enough.”

  Her voice sounded breathless and a little wavery. She had every right to be nervous. Warren had cheated death by the skin of his teeth.

  “Did it occur to you that I might want to see Warren too?”

  Her eyes widened and she sagged, dipping her head.

  Before he could stop himself, he reached out. Grazing her silky cheek with the back of his finger. So soft. She was so soft.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Her face had the oddest expression. But she nodded, adjusting her glasses again. “I’m fine.”

  He snorted. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Think what you want,” she responded loftily, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

  She scooted off the seat and hopped out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. He pulled the truck through and into the nearest parking spot. Why was she acting like she wanted to get as far away from him as possible? He’d done nothing but be a total gentleman. Except for kissing her in his kitchen.

  He squirmed, his balls tightening at the memory of her mouth. Yeah. There’d been nothing gentlemanly about that kiss. He’d done it to provoke a response. Even though he’d tortured himself in the process. He couldn’t help it. She pushed his buttons, and in return he wanted to push hers.

  All of them.

  He stalked through the lobby and hit the elevator button a little too hard. Hell, he’d wanted to kiss her as soon as he’d seen her in the airport. She’d tied his gut in knots the second her eyes locked with his. He should win a medal for showing restraint the way he had. And this morning too, when she was all sleepy faced and still wrapped in his jacket.

  But no.

  He’d walked away and made her breakfast instead.

  A total gentleman.

  He moved out of the elevator and started to turn the corner into the waiting room when Martha’s voice pulled him up short.

  “I’m so surprised by Blake Sinclaire. We owe him so much now.”

  Maddie’s voice murmured something unintelligible.

  Martha giggled. “I just have this feeling about him…”

  He stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether he should interrupt.

  “Don’t get any ideas, Martha,” Maddie reprimanded her.

  “I really don’t understand all the hullabaloo between our families. I mean, Jake might have been a sonofagun, but I always liked Amelia. Was real sorry when she went.”

  A flash of grief pierced him. Martha wasn’t the only one who was sorry. Sorry didn’t even begin to describe the loss he’d felt when his mother passed.

  “You could do far worse than to hitch your ride to his, Maddie Jane. He’s solid, that one. Solid as they come.”

  “Stop this, Aunt Martha… My work is in Chicago.”

  “The course of true love never did run smooth, dearie. Jobs can change. True love is constant. Besides, your daddy’d be mighty pleased if you settled down close by. He’d never admit it, but he misses you something fierce.”

  Oh no. This had to stop. He needed to rescue her from this conversation. Hell, he needed to rescue himself.

  “Lordy, Auntie M, do I look like a neutrino in a particle smasher?” Maddie asked.

  Blake strode around the corner unable to keep the grin off his face. “No. You are much more lovely.”

  Maddie turned her head, eyes filled with panic. He wouldn’t let on that he’d overheard anything but her last statement. At least not yet. “Have you seen the nurse yet?”

  She rolled her lips together and shook her head.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Indecision covered her face, and she shut her eyes, taking a strong breath. He could see the wheels turning in her mind and bit back a laugh. The mothers of Prairie had been making plans for him for years, falling all over themselves for his company. And she hesitated to walk down the hall with him. But it was nice to know at least one Hansen didn’t think all Sinclaires were mud.

  She opened her eyes and stared directly at him.

  His breath stuck in his throat.

  A silent conversation took place in the span of a moment.

  You’re laughing at me.

  Yes. I am.

  Stop it.

  You’re beautiful.

  The windows to her thoughts slammed shut, replaced with aloof detachment.

  She shrugged. “Sure.” She peered at him over the tops of her glasses, coming off more like a flustered librarian than anything remotely threatening. “But no talking in there, and you leave if he gets agitated.”

  He bit back a laugh but nodded solemnly.

  “Do you want to come too, Auntie, M?” Maddie turned back toward her aunt who was watching them with open speculation.

  Great.

  This was sure to make the rounds at Dottie’s Diner.

  “Go on ahead, honey. You two see him first. I’ll wait until Eddie arrives after lunch.”

  Maddie spun on her heel and marched down the hall, the echo of her heels clicking the only sound between them.

  Keeping pace with her, he reached out his hand toward the small of her back, catching himself just in time before he touched her. Electricity leaped to his palm, nearly making him clench his fist.

  She pushed up her glasses. “You don’t need to hover. I’m fine.”

  He dropped his hand, biting back a retort that was certain to elicit a fiery response. She was anxious, and he happened to be here to absorb it. Fine. If that’s what she needed right now, he was her man. He could see her brain working on overdrive again. If it
wasn’t so adorable it would be damned irritating.

  “Stop thinking, Maddie.” He didn’t bother to hide his grin this time.

  She slid him a sideways glance, made an irritated little squeak, and kept walking.

  Yep.

  Totally adorable.

  “You’re still thinking, Maddie.”

  She stopped short and spun around, jabbing his chest with her finger.

  He stepped back. She moved forward, punctuating each word with another jab of her finger. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”

  He reached for her arms, pulling her close. Every cell in his body tightened in awareness as she molded to him. Their eyes locked, and she let out a little gasp. The urge to bend his head to hers and take a quick taste of her rushed through him. He swallowed hard then stepped back, letting her go. Not here. Not now.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Sorry.” Not really. He liked teasing her.

  She pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling with aggravation.

  Huh.

  Had she wanted him to kiss her just then?

  Not how he’d imagined getting the upper hand with a Hansen, but he’d take it.

  He left her where she was and walked a few more paces to the door and held it open for her to pass. She squared her shoulders and marched through the door.

  “I’m here to see Warren Hansen.”

  The nurse on duty looked her once over. “And you are?”

  “His daughter.”

  “Yes. Of course.” She reached for the chart, looking at her notes. “I see you were here last night. They took the ventilator out about twenty minutes ago. He’s recovering nicely and he’s still very weak. But you can see him for a few minutes.”

  The nurse nodded toward the doorway across the room. Still pointedly ignoring Blake, Maddie stepped around the nurse’s station and paused in the threshold. Tension rippled through her body, and his heart went out to her. Her attitude be damned. She needed support. He stepped up behind her and brought his hands to her shoulders. Some of the tightness leached from her body.

  Standing there, taking her father in this way over Maddie’s shoulder, twisted something in his chest. Warren looked like shit. His color and had improved a shade over the hideous oatmeal color from the previous evening, but he still looked terrible. And frail. Like the fight had gone out of him. As if sensing them there, Warren’s eyes fluttered open. He opened his mouth, a hoarse rasp escaping.