His grin flashed. “I know one thing. You’re gonna look a mite different in a swimsuit these days than you did back then.”
So would he.
He’d been unreasonably handsome as a teenager. But now he was a man. A ruggedly handsome, broad-shouldered, hardworking, ranching man.
“I’m not even sure I have a swimsuit anymore.” She suddenly lifted her finger to point at him. “And I am not skinny-dipping.”
“Ever?”
“There’ll be a couple dozen people there on a hot Sunday afternoon. Neither one of us will be skinny-dipping. Unless you fancy getting picked up by the sheriff’s department for public indecency.”
His grin flashed again. “Can’t blame a guy for his fantasies.”
She turned her face to the wind, wishing it were cooler so there was some chance of it dousing the heat in her cheeks. “Being publicly indecent?”
He laughed softly. “Chicken.”
She bit back her own smile. “Yup.” They’d reached the highway, but instead of slowing as they neared her turnoff, his speed stayed steady.
Which had her wanting to smile all over again because they were obviously going to his.
He hadn’t done a single thing differently during their performances that day. Rusty’s passionate clinch with Lila still hadn’t involved locking lips. Which, considering everything, had left her doubting that he’d really meant what he’d said that morning about his king-size bed.
Soon he was slowing, though, and turned up the graded road to his place. He parked around the rear as usual, and not until they were heading up the back porch did she stop to think that she was still stuck inside Lila’s wedding dress. If the bar-of-soap trick didn’t work, she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of the thing, short of scissors. “I don’t suppose you have a needle and thread.” She held out the sides of her dress. “In case I have to have you cut me out of this thing.”
He pushed open the back door and reached inside to flip on the mudroom light. “I’ve got a sewing kit around somewhere. Ma’s doing.” He turned back to her and suddenly swept her off her feet.
She gaped. “What are you doing?”
“Why, Lila,” he drawled, “what d’you think I’m doing?”
She giggled as he carried her over the threshold. “Oh, Rusty. You’re my hero.”
He chuckled and plopped her on top of the white washing machine sitting next to the big refrigerator. He opened a storage cupboard next to that, pulled out a paper-wrapped bar of soap and turned back to her. “Let’s get that dress off you.”
She obediently lifted her arm. “Sweet-talker.”
He ran the edge of the bar over the zipper, above and below the pull, and even managed to work it down the inside of her zipper, though she had to completely pull her arms out of the lace shoulder band for him to manage it.
“What’s this?” The second he touched the gold chain hanging between her breasts, she remembered that she’d also strung his drugstore ring on it that afternoon before their first show.
“Lila wouldn’t wear a ring like that,” she managed blithely. She had one arm crossed over her bare breasts, which was kind of silly, she supposed, now that he’d already seen, touched and tasted nearly every inch of her. “But I figured I’d be inviting the Roselyn-devil back if I didn’t keep it handy.” It was a blatant lie. But how else could she explain her unwillingness to toss the ring aside when she hadn’t wanted to take it in the first place?
“Superstitious?” He smiled slightly as nudged her arm higher, and away from her breasts as he tested the zipper before going to work again with the soap. “She doesn’t have any reason to come back.”
“One hopes.” She would have felt foolish sitting there with her dress pulled down below her breasts, but stuck in place over her rib cage, if it weren’t for the way his heated eyes kept straying away from the task at hand. Instead, she was only increasingly impatient for him to finish the job. She was awash with need, practically squirming where she sat on top of the washing machine. “Hurry up.”
“What do you want me to do?” He lifted a brow, though his innocent look didn’t fool her for a second. He knew exactly the torment he was causing, and was enjoying it. “Tear it?”
“Tempting.” She managed to push the soap out of his hand and pulled his palm to her bare, tight breasts. The flare of surprise on his face was worth the boldness, and she looped her hand behind his neck, pulling his head to hers. “Just kiss me already.”
He stepped closer and brushed his mouth over hers. “You’re suddenly getting very demanding.”
She could feel his smile against her lips. “You have no idea.” She reached down his spine and gathered the fabric of his T-shirt in her fingers and pulled upward.
He laughed softly and let her yank the thing up and off his head. “Keep this up and you’re not gonna get out of that dress and we’re not gonna get outta the laundry room.”
She didn’t care. She was ravenous for him. “You never kiss me onstage.” She pulled his head back to hers and ran her lips along his jaw. He needed a shave, and the rough razor stubble tickled her lips. “Why?”
“’Cause I’m not an actor.” He caught her face between his hands. His dark gaze was anchored on her lips. “I’m not Rusty kissing Lila. I’m Galen kissing Aurora. And I don’t want an audience of hundreds at Cowboy Country for that.”
Something sweet squeezed inside her, even more enticing than the desire flooding her. “We don’t have an audience now,” she whispered.
“No.” He brought his lips to hers. Rubbing. Nibbling. Teasing, until she was nearly whimpering for more.
And then finally, oh, finally, he tired of toying and kissed her in earnest, and when he pulled back the next time, they were both breathless and her hands trembled as she fumbled with his belt.
“That’s not the zipper we were supposed to get down.”
She took almost indecent pleasure in the sound of his belt slithering out of his belt loops when she pulled on it. “Are you objecting?”
In answer, he pushed his hands through her hair, pulling it out of the ponytail holder and letting it fall around her shoulders. She knew men were visual creatures, and there was something electrifying about knowing Galen looked at her and liked—liked—what he saw.
Then his mouth was on hers again while his hands delved beneath her dress, divesting her of her panties while she hastily shoved his jeans aside, and she cried out when he thrillingly claimed her, right then and there in his laundry room.
With his boots on.
* * *
The rest of the week passed in a similar vein, leaving Aurora in a constant haze of delight. Fortunately, the soap bar had successfully done its job on the zipper that first night after she and Galen had finally stumbled, exhausted, from the laundry room. She’d gotten out of the dress and mended the fraying satin alongside the zipper using the thread and needle from the sewing kit he’d unearthed from a drawer.
Between the two of them, in the mornings they managed to take care of their more critical ranch chores, then perform four shows a day at Cowboy Country with Galen making his “authenticity consultant” rounds between each, and fall into Galen’s king-size bed at night in a greedy tangle of arms and legs.
By the time Sunday rolled around and they were able to sleep until seven—a nearly unheard-of hour—Aurora knew she’d never been happier in her life.
She just hoped that this time, her happiness didn’t have an expiration date.
“Come on, missy.” Galen sauntered through the back door of his kitchen where she’d been cleaning up after the eggs and biscuits she’d fixed for breakfast, and plopped the straw cowboy hat he was carrying on her head. “Horses are saddled and day’s already wasting.”
She thumbed back the hat, grinning at him. Not surprisingly, Galen was holding true to his suggestion earlier that week that they go to Hollow Springs. “You shouldn’t have showered with me after we finished the chores if you were worried about
wasting time.” She draped the damp dish towel over the side of the sink and handed him the plastic-wrapped sandwiches she’d made to take with them, along with an oversize thermos of lemonade.
“All a matter of priorities.” He led the way out the back door and they walked across to the pen where he’d saddled up two quarter horses while she’d been cleaning up from breakfast. He tucked the sandwiches in one saddlebag and the thermos in the other. Then he handed her the reins for the pretty bay. “You can take Esther here. She’s better behaved than Pepper.” He patted the rump of the buckskin crowding next to him, nudging the pushy gelding away. “You need help getting up?”
“Esther.” Aurora tsked. “Such an unromantic name for such a pretty girl.” She ran her hand down the horse’s glossy red coat. “And I’ve been getting myself on and off horses my whole life.” To prove it, she tucked the toe of her tennis shoe in the stirrup and nimbly pushed herself up into the saddle.
He automatically checked the stirrup length, adjusting them up a few notches. “What should I have named her? Juliet?” He tucked her toe back in the stirrup. “Better?”
She stood up, testing. Riding in flat-soled shoes was never a good idea, even for an experienced rider, but they were heading to Hollow Springs. She was wearing an ancient swimsuit under her cutoffs, and T-shirt and boots would have just been too hot.
Even Galen was wearing tennis shoes, along with cargo shorts that hung off his hips in a very distracting way. The only thing he hadn’t eschewed was his cowboy hat, though today it was a tan Resistol rather than his usual black Stetson. He took Pepper’s reins and led him on foot out of the pen, waiting until Aurora and Esther came through before pushing the pen gate shut. Then he easily swung into the saddle and Aurora had to stifle a purely female sigh of appreciation.
It was something to realize she’d had to get to the age of thirty before she could fully appreciate the beauty of a man on a horse.
Or maybe it was just this man.
Out of habit, she started to reach for her watch locket and the ring that still hung beside it, but she’d left it on the nightstand in his bedroom. The watch was old. Not the least bit waterproof, and after they spent at least an hour on horseback just to get to the springs, she fully intended on getting wet.
Galen took the lead, heading away from the highway and across his land, which stretched out flat and open beyond the barn. Eventually, they’d cross onto his folks’ property, then hers, and after that, they’d follow one of the county riding trails meandering around Horseback Hollow until they reached the springs.
If the horses were poky, it would be a few hours before they got there. If they weren’t, they’d make it in half the time.
Either way, she was happy with the creak of saddle leather, the warmth of horseflesh and the smell of summer grass in the air. Mostly, she was happy watching the easy way Galen sat his horse.
He’d said the only thing he’d ever wanted to be was a rancher. And even though he was only plodding across the land on a pleasure ride, she still could see how natural that choice was. For Galen, horses and cattle and all that went with them were exactly who he was.
She squeezed her knees slightly and Esther picked up the pace until she drew even with him and Pepper. “Race?”
His teeth flashed. “You’ve never ridden Esther. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”
“She’s one of your ranch horses,” she returned. “I’m pretty sure I have an idea.” Without waiting for him to agree, she lightly pressed her heels and she felt Esther’s immediate reaction as her muscles gathered together before she launched forward.
Exhilarated, Aurora sank down in the saddle, clamping one hand on top of her head to keep the hat from blowing off, and laughed as she flew across the countryside on the back of the beautiful horse.
The sight of Aurora’s red hair flying out behind her as she leaned low over Esther’s back nearly took Galen’s breath away.
Like everything else she did, Aurora threw herself into it, body and soul.
Pepper was prancing around, anxious as hell to chase after them. He was ten years younger than Esther and full of eager pride. “All right, pal,” Galen murmured, and let the horse do what nature intended.
It took only a few minutes, and they were drawing even with Aurora, who sent him that whole-body smile that never failed to make him feel good inside.
And then they just rode.
* * *
It was late in the afternoon by the time they finally reversed the trip and started back after spending hours lazing around the swimming hole.
Predictably, the place had been packed, mostly with teenagers who reminded them both of days long past. Aurora could have passed for one of them, as she’d flitted in and out of the water in a faded green one-piece that showed off her slender, fit figure.
Galen had spent less time in the water than she had, more content to sprawl on the bank and watch the young bucks try to flirt with her even more than they were flirting with the girls their own age.
They’d climbed the red rocks above the waterfall, though she’d drawn the line at jumping down into the swimming hole below like some of the more foolhardy kids were doing. Like he and Mark used to do. They devoured the roast beef sandwiches she’d made, guzzled the gallon of lemonade and felt their skin get red from the sun.
All in all, it was one of the most perfect days Galen could ever remember having.
As they rode back, Aurora seemed content to rock along in her saddle as the horses picked their way across the rough dirt trail. When they got to one fork in particular, though, she pulled up on the reins.
Pepper stopped, too, and Galen folded his wrists over his pommel and eyed Aurora.
The right fork took them toward their spreads.
The left would take them toward the back side of the cemetery, which was accessible by car from the highway on the other side.
Her nose was pink from too much sun and her hair was a mess of tangles hanging loose around her shoulders. And the way she was looking left made him hurt inside.
“When’s the last time you went there?”
She finally looked back at him. “His funeral.” Her lips twisted at the surprise he couldn’t hide. “I know. Horrible of me.”
He shook his head. “Wasn’t thinking that at all.” He waited a beat. “You want to go there now?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know.” She chewed her lip. Then her eyes met his. “How can you be sure?”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Your brother wasn’t suicidal, Aurora. It was an accident. A terrible, rotten accident that would never have happened if Mark had had the sense not to get behind the wheel.”
She plucked the stitching on her pommel. “I went off to college. He didn’t.”
He knew where she was going, and felt a knot in his chest. “He was accepted to A&M same as I was.”
“And he didn’t go because of the money.”
He silently apologized to the friend he’d once had. But Mark was gone. And Aurora was very much here. “He got a better scholarship than I did.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“He didn’t take it because he didn’t want to go,” he said evenly. “He’d only applied in the first place to make your parents happy. I was there when he opened the letter. We were eighteen years old. He made me promise never to tell anyone what he turned down.” Mark had even burned the scholarship letter to make certain it wasn’t seen by anyone.
Her eyes reddened. “Did my parents know?”
“He obviously never told them, or you wouldn’t be thinking what you’ve been thinking all this time.” He sighed. “After he died, there was never a right time to. They were devastated enough without learning that he could have gone to school like they’d wanted.” He willed her not to look away from him. “When you went off to UCLA, you weren’t stealing an opportunity from him, Aurora. You didn’t take anything from him by going off to live your own life.”
Sh
e blinked hard and a tear slid down her cheek. “College was a dream of mine. Why would he turn down that opportunity for himself?”
“There never was any explaining your brother,” he murmured. “I should have told you before now.”
She sniffed, finally looking away and swiping a hand over her cheek. “So why didn’t you?”
“Because I wasn’t sure breaking an old promise to him wasn’t just going to cause more hurt.” He’d also been busy lately working on not falling for the man’s little sister. A woman who, for as long as he could remember, had yearned for something other than the kind of life that was in Galen’s DNA.
She absorbed that. “Knowing he had a chance like that and—” She broke off and shook her head. “It would have broken my parents’ hearts even more.” She laid a loose rein against the left side of Esther’s neck and the horse obediently headed toward the right fork, and away from the cemetery.
Galen stifled a sigh. Just because he figured she needed to visit her brother’s grave if only to finally vent her anger or confusion or sadness didn’t mean it was the right thing for her. Only she could decide that for herself.
So he nudged Pepper along after her and they rode back to his place in silence. When they reached the barn, she slid off Esther’s back and replaced the bridle with a halter before unsaddling her. He knew offering to do it for her wouldn’t be welcomed, so he focused on doing the same with Pepper. When she pulled the saddle clear, though, he silently took it from her, carrying both into the tack room, hanging everything over the racks there before wiping a cloth over the saddles. Then he grabbed the bucket of grooming tools and rejoined her outside the barn at the wash rack, where she was already hosing the sweat from Esther’s coat. When she was finished, she handed him the hose and used the scraper from the bucket to remove the water.
“You’re a love, aren’t you,” she murmured as she sluiced water from the horse’s back. Esther looked blissful.
Pepper, not so much. He wasn’t quite the fan of water that Esther was, though he had calmed down some about it since Galen had bought him at auction a few years back. He could have made shorter work of hosing him down, but there didn’t seem to be much rush, and it was uncommonly peaceful working alongside each other.
Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) Page 14
