A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss

by Stephanie Rowe

  Steen ignored the phone. “Where’s my bike?” His fingers curled, as if he could feel the handlebars beneath his fingers.

  But Chase shook his head and waggled the phone at him. “Dinner and ranch-sitting first.”

  Shit. He had no money to buy another one, and Chase knew it. His brother had him by the balls. He glanced down at Mira, who was watching him with a soft expression. He was surprised by the look in her eyes. She wasn’t judging him, despite the fact he was being an ungrateful sod to the man she was going to marry.

  Suddenly, he felt like a shit. Just because he’d failed at his life didn’t mean Chase and Mira had to suffer. He took a breath, and managed a smile. He didn’t want to be the guy everyone thought he was anymore. He had a chance to start over, and he wanted to take it. Dinner and ranch sitting for the brother who had saved his life seemed like a decent step in the right direction. With a scowl, he grabbed the phone out of his brother’s hand and shoved it in his back pocket. “Yeah, okay. Dinner and I’ll watch the ranch, but I’m not moving into your house.”

  Chase laughed and slammed his hand down on Steen’s shoulder. “I’m almost a married man, buddy. I’m not going to complain about having you sleeping far enough away to give me a little privacy with my woman. The bunk house is all yours.”

  Mira’s cheeks flamed red, and she poked Chase in the chest, much like she’d done with Steen. “You’re such a pig, Chase. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight just for that remark.” She rolled her eyes at both men, and then marched inside. Steen thought he heard her giggle just before the door slammed.

  Chase grinned as he pulled the door open and held it for Steen. “She never makes me sleep on the couch,” he said with a wink. “But I like earning my way back into the bed.”

  “Shit, man.” Steen grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about stuff like that.” Women? Dating? Romance? Stuff like that made his stomach turn, and all his alarms start ringing.

  He’d learned his lesson, and he’d learned it well.

  He might be willing to sit through dinner with his brother, and he could be coerced into watching over the ranch, but women? That was one road that had burned him badly enough that he was never going down it again. Ever. It didn’t matter what Mira had said to him. It really didn’t.

  But as he followed his brother into the kitchen, Erin’s face flashed through his mind. Had there been pain in her eyes when she’d looked at him? Was she the one who needed to be saved? Because if it was her…well…she was different.

  Shit. He couldn’t do that. Not even for Erin. Not even for her.

  Chapter 5

  Five days later, Steen was pretty sure he’d made a colossal mistake in agreeing to watch over the ranch while his brother was gone. Chase and Mira had been gone less than two days, and Steen was convinced the job was going to kill him. He’d already gone the “almost dead” route, and now that he’d reclaimed his place in the land of the living, he wasn’t sure he was ready to go down that road again. He wasn’t ruling it out indefinitely, just not at the moment, and he really didn’t want to die shoveling horse manure.

  He set down the hay bale and leaned over, bracing his gloved hands on the hay as he tried to steady himself. His mind was spinning, and his back was drenched with sweat from the effort of fighting off the pain in his side. When had he become such a lame ass that he couldn’t do basic physical labor? Yeah, true, he’d been feeling a lot stronger this morning than he had a few days ago, but he’d pushed it too hard and now he was paying for it. He hadn’t even done that much. Shit. He was pathetic.

  He bowed his head, struggling to catch his breath. A few minutes of rest, and he’d be fine. Just a minute—

  “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  Steen jerked upright the moment he heard Erin’s voice echo through the stables. He moved so fast that everything spun, and he had to grip the wall of the stable to keep from staggering. Swearing, he closed his eyes and wiped the sweat off his brow, hoping that Erin would just disappear and not walk down his aisle—

  “Steen! What’s wrong with you?”

  He swore and turned to face Erin as she jogged down the aisle toward him. Her dark hair was in a loose ponytail, with the wavy ends pulled forward over her shoulder. Her jeans fit her just right, and her muddy tee shirt was much too snug over her breasts for his comfort. What did him in, however, was the look of concern on her face. She looked so damn worried about him that he felt the tension in his chest ease, and he was able to stand taller.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” He made himself release the bars, and was pleased to discover he was perfectly capable of maintaining his balance unassisted. Score one for a quick recovery. “What’s up? Why are you here?” The moment he asked the question, he winced. He sounded rude and obnoxious, which he generally was, but he didn’t want to be that way with Erin. “I mean, yeah, good to see you again.”

  A small smile curved the corner of her mouth as she stopped in front of him. “Is it now? Delightful, in fact? Is that what you were trying to say?”

  He watched the way the sunlight from the open barn door made the auburn highlights glisten in her hair. “Yeah, kinda. Delightful sort of works.” Delightful wasn’t a word he’d ever used in his life, but it seemed to fit the moment. He kind of liked it, actually. Delightful. Delightful. Erin the Delightful. Erin with hair that looked delightfully tempting, like it was begging for him to run his fingers through it. Yeah, delightful worked in a whole lot of ways when it came to Erin.

  Her smile became wary, and she put her hands on her hips. “So, I’m here because Josie had the ranch on her schedule for a deworming treatment today. All the horses.”

  “All of them?” Steen dragged his attention from her hair and refocused on her face. He noticed that there were circles under her eyes, and she looked tired. He narrowed his eyes. “Late night?”

  “What?” She frowned. “No, of course not. Do you have the horses ready?”

  He glanced down the aisle at the empty stalls. “Not so much.” There were at least thirty horses on the grounds right now, more if he counted the two small herds that were roaming the high plains. Almost all of them were turned out in the assorted fields on the ranch at the moment.

  “Not so much?” She looked around, as if noticing the silence of the aisle for the first time. She sighed, giving him the kind of impatient look that made him want to grin. “Josie’s notes said that Chase always brings them in so I’d be able to go right through them.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t get Chase today. You got me.” Steen tipped back his hat and wiped his forearm over his brow. “He’s out of town for a few days, and he didn’t mention it. I didn’t see that on the schedule. We’ll have to reschedule.” A part of him wanted to ask her to stay until he could round them up, just so that he could be around her, but he wasn’t that much of a fool. The longer she stayed, the more of him she’d see, and the less of himself he’d be able to hide from her. “See ya.”

  He turned away and gripped the hay bale, but when he lifted it, the pain was so great that he had to set it down again. Shit. He’d totally pushed it too hard today. He leaned on the bale, trying to catch his breath, grimacing when he heard Erin striding along toward him.

  He didn’t look up, hoping she’d get the point, but instead, she crouched down next to the hay bale and peered up at him, her brown eyes steady. “Guess what, Steen.”

  Damn, she smelled good. What was that smell? Lavender? It was so faint he almost couldn’t catch it. Not perfume. Maybe just the soap she’d used in her shower. “What?”

  “Did you know vets go to medical school? Did you know that we can tell when someone is in extreme physical distress? It’s a handy talent sometimes, you know?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and gave up the pretense. He eased down to his knees and braced his forearms on the hay, taking the strain off his body. “I’m recovering from an injury. I just need a sec. I tweaked something.”

  “An injury?” Her eyebrows went up, and he w
as annoyed to discover that he thought she was even sexier when she was looking stubborn and mutinous. The hero-worship thing she’d had going on in high school had had its own appeal, but her “don’t mess with me” attitude was awesome. “And what would that injury be?” she asked dryly.

  A stab wound in prison that nearly killed me, a surgery that saved my life but left a mile long scar down my body, and then a second surgery to clean up the shit from the first time around. The truth sounded so crappy he’d never say it aloud, not to her. So, he shrugged. “I got cut.”

  Her gaze flicked to his right side, where his most recent incision was, her intuition apparently not failing her at all. “I want to look at it.”

  His entire body went molten at the idea of her hands on his skin. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not? Because my image of your manly prowess will be shattered when I see that you actually bleed like everyone else?” She made her way over to his left side and knelt beside him.

  “No,” he gritted out. “Because I’m afraid you won’t be able to contain yourself when you see my incredible physique. You know, since you have such a crush on me and everything. I’m not in a dating mode right now, so I’d have to turn you down, and it could get awkward.” Total lie. There was no chance he’d turn her down. It was the opposite problem entirely.

  She laughed, breaking his tension. “I’ll take my chances, hot stuff. I’ll do my best to refrain from throwing myself at your feet and begging you to rip my clothes off and do lots of naughty things to me.”

  Naughty things? His imagination surged into overdrive as a dozen naughty ideas raced through his mind. Suddenly, his side didn’t hurt anymore. All his blood had gone straight south, and was accumulating way too fast for a guy of his discipline.

  She tugged lightly at his shirt. “You want me to disrobe you, or do you prefer to manage these things yourself?”

  He looked over at her, trying to think about baseball and not the erection that he was starting to get. “Can’t you go away?” Yeah, he was being completely rude, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to get rid of her now, before she started seeing things about him that he didn’t want her to know.

  She grinned, entirely undaunted by his surliness, which, if he’d had to guess, he should have predicted. She’d never seemed intimidated by him, even when she was a gangly fourteen-year-old and he was being an arrogant jerk with his friends. That was one of the reasons he’d always been fascinated by her. He sensed that she saw right through his bullshit, which was intriguing as a general rule, but right now, it was decidedly inconvenient.

  She patted his shoulder. “You’re a worse patient than the Rottweiler I had this morning. Now shut up and be good, or I’ll have to muzzle you.”

  “Vet humor,” he muttered, barely hiding his grin. He was too cranky to laugh, but damned if she didn’t make him want to do it anyway. With a melodramatic grimace, he dragged his shirt out of his jeans and pulled it up. He knew there were bandages on it, so she wouldn’t be able to see that it was a knife wound.

  She leaned forward, apparently inspecting his side. She said nothing, and he was just starting to relax, when he felt her hand on his side. He was so surprised by the touch that he jumped sideways.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I won’t hurt you. I’m just looking.”

  Her voice was soft and gentle, just like she probably used on her animals, but it worked. He felt the tension ease from his body, and he went still, his entire being focused on the next touch. This time, when her palm flattened against his side, he was ready for it. He couldn’t believe how warm her skin was, or how soft. He closed his eyes, drinking in her touch, absorbing every nuance of what it felt like. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt anything so surreal, and so perfect. He bowed his head, his gloved hands digging into the prickly hay, tracking the movement of her fingers down his shoulder blade, along the bandage, and along his waist.

  She spread her palm against his ribs, as if she were trying to hold his heart inside his body. It felt good…no, amazing…no, incredible.

  “Steen?”

  “Yeah.” He wanted to tell her not to stop, but he had no words. The sensations had gone way beyond naughty things and disrobing. Her touch was searing deep into his soul, making parts of him respond that had nothing to do with his cock.

  “The bandage is pretty soiled. You’re bleeding through it. The skin around it isn’t hot yet, so I don’t think it’s infected, but it’s going to be if you don’t get it cleaned.” She moved her hand along the edge of the bandage again, a gentle touch that somehow seemed to strip the tension from his body. “You need to go to the doctor and have it checked.”

  “You do it.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even thought them, but the moment he said it, he knew it was what he wanted. “No doctor.” He couldn’t go back inside closed walls again, not yet. A hospital was like a prison, with locks on the doors and doctors who told you what should be done with your body. They’d ask him questions, and then it would go in his file that he was an ex-con with a stab wound. He didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to be that guy, not anymore, not again. “You,” he said again.

  “Me?” She dropped her hand from his side. “I’m a vet.”

  He looked over at her. “Please.”

  She met his gaze, and he saw something in her eyes soften. Somehow, she’d understood the depth of his need without him having to explain it. “Okay, but don’t complain if you wind up with fur and a tail by the time I’m finished.”

  Relief rushed over him. “Deal. Do you have time to do it now?”

  “I have all afternoon, since we’re not deworming.” She stood up. “Wait right here. I’ll get some supplies from Faith. Whatever you did to her worked. She’s been rocking along perfectly.”

  “No problem.” He stood up as she rose to her feet. She was less than a foot from him, and suddenly the air between them became heated and thick. Silence fell, and he felt that same urge overcome him, the need to touch her, taste her, and drink her into his soul.

  Slowly, he pulled off one of his gloves and brushed his fingers over a loose tendril of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She sucked in her breath, but didn’t retreat.

  He rubbed the strands between his fingers. “So soft,” he said. “I always wondered.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.” He met her gaze. “But now, it’s a different kind of curiosity.”

  She swallowed. “Because I’m not fourteen.”

  “Because neither of us are teenagers.” He opened his hand and slid all his fingers through her ponytail, watching the strands slide over his skin. He couldn’t believe how soft it was, and he was mesmerized by the sensation of the strands against his skin. “I forgot that things this perfect existed.”

  “No. Don’t say that,” she protested, her body suddenly tensing. “I’m not perfect. I’m so tired of trying to be. Please, of anyone in the world to say that, don’t let it be you.”

  The edge to her voice caught his attention, and his gaze moved from her hair to her eyes. This time, for the first time, he saw pain he hadn’t seen before. Not physical pain. The kind of pain that etched itself deep in one’s soul and never went away. He knew that kind of pain, because he lived with it every day. The realization that she carried that same kind of burden made his fingers curl more tightly in her hair. Suddenly, she wasn’t the brilliant, rich girl who would always outclass him. She was a woman who carried the same burdens that he did. She was the same as he was, which made her reachable, touchable, and accessible.

  His fingers tightened in her hair, and he tugged gently, needing more. “Is there a Mr. Erin back home waiting for you?”

  Again, a flash of pain, but she shook her head. “Just me.”

  There were a thousand more questions he wanted to ask, and a thousand reasons to walk away, but he did neither of those things. Instead, he stripped
off his other glove, and then did what he wanted to do most of all: he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  Chapter 6

  Erin’s heart hammered in her chest the moment she realized Steen was about to kiss her. Dear God, after all these years? It was really going to happen? She started to panic, but his fingers tightened in her hair, drawing her closer to him as he bent his head, trapping her.

  His grip was so warm and gentle that all her fear fled, and she lifted her face to his. He closed the distance between them, and he kissed her, a true, perfect, real kiss that was so much more than anything she’d ever imagined. The moment his lips touched hers, all the years of fantasy dissipated, and all that was left was the reality of who he was, of this moment, and the feel of his lips on hers.

  His mouth was decadently soft as he lightly kissed her, a touch so gentle that she was almost afraid she’d imagined it. It was beautiful and sensual, a caress so tender it belied the tough, arrogant attitude he worked so hard to convey. How could this rough cowboy possibly deliver a kiss so sensual and beautiful that it made her heart come alive? But he did.

  Steen paused, his lips hovering over hers, as if giving them both the chance to back away.

  She didn’t retreat, and neither did he. Time hung in suspended animation as she waited, her entire soul yearning for more. Would he kiss her again? Or had this moment been all there would be? For a split second, she considered pulling away, not wanting to be the one who was rejected, but before she could do so, he kissed her again, his lips feathering over hers in the softest of kisses, like a butterfly that had just spread its wings for the first time.

  He kissed one corner of her mouth.

  And then the other.

  It was the sweetest, purest, most innocent kiss of her life. It made her feel treasured and respected, as if she were an angel held in the palm of her guardian, protected against every negative moment in the world. It wasn’t the kiss of a man who saw her only as breasts and a way to get off. It was the kiss of her knight, her salvation, a man who had declared himself her savior through one simple kiss.