Say Yes to the Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Using her phone’s flashlight to guide her, she clomped down the hallway and stepped into the bedroom. The wet tree branch sticking through the window looked a lot more menacing without Zeke beside her. She put on the gloves he’d found and walked slowly to the window, glass crunching under the soles of Zeke’s boots. He’d been right about her canvas shoes. Her feet would be bleeding by now.

  Wind and rain came in around the branch. Once Zeke pulled the branch out, water would pour in. She used her flashlight to assess the opening. Sure enough, pieces of glass stuck out of the window frame like shark’s teeth. She wouldn’t be pushing her arm through there.

  She heard the rumble of Zeke’s truck and moments later his headlights gave her a better view of the damage. She could see the slash of bare wood where the branch had been ripped from the tree by the lightning strike. The wood was singed but not burning.

  Good Lord, she hadn’t thought about the danger Zeke had put himself in by running outside to get his truck. Lightning still lit the sky. Her stomach hollowed out at the image of Zeke lying unconscious on the muddy ground.

  Suddenly, Zeke appeared at the window. Rain cascaded from his hat, and his shirt was practically transparent. “The strongest branches are inside.” He raised his voice to be heard above the wind. “Here’s the end of the rope. Loop it through some really sturdy ones and pass it back out to me.”

  She assessed the situation and did as he asked. She was getting wet, too, but nothing compared to him. Walking around the branch, she finished the job on the other side and carefully handed him the rope without coming anywhere near the shards of glass still in the window frame.

  “Perfect, thanks.” He held her gaze. “Promise me you’ll stand back while I tow it out. I’ll leave my windows down so if you notice the whole operation going south, yell out. I’ll hear you.”

  “It won’t go south. You’ve got this.” She gave him a thumbs-up.

  His grin flashed. “Roping is what I do.” Then he was gone.

  The truck reversed direction, facing away from the broken window. She could hear him in the darkness securing the rope, and she smiled at his colorful language. If ever there was an appropriate time for cussing, this was it. The rope had to be slippery and even with gloves the job would be tough. But he’d handle it. As he’s said, roping was what he did.

  The romance of Zeke’s profession had appealed to her back in April. Because Jared was an accountant, spending the weekend with a trick roper had been a walk on the wild side. Spending time with him still was. She couldn’t imagine Jared going out into a storm to pull a tree branch from a broken window. He would have called somebody.

  Zeke, however, put the truck in gear and hauled ass, as they said in cowboy country. The branch quivered, crackled and slid neatly out of the frame to fall noisily to the ground.

  Tess made a megaphone of her hands. “All clear!”

  “Thanks!” He switched off the engine and the next thing she knew he was back in the house and standing beside her. He dripped all over the floor as he gazed at the damage. Somewhere along the way he’d ditched his hat. “We have to do something about that hole.”

  “I know.”

  “But not until I take care of another situation.”

  She glanced over at him. “What?”

  “This.” Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her.

  She almost dropped her phone. She knew right away that this wasn’t the kiss she remembered. Their relationship had changed drastically since April and so had Zeke’s kiss. The mood in that Texas hotel room had been playful, exploratory.

  But Zeke’s hungry mouth as he coaxed hers open, and the determined thrust of his tongue, told her that playtime was over. He was extremely focused. And the most virile man she’d ever known.

  Breathing hard, he lifted his head. “You kissed me before I went outside, Tess. I need to know what that means.”

  She wiggled closer to his wet, clammy body. “It means the same thing it meant in Texas. You turn me on.”

  “That’s great, but I’m a simple guy, so I like things explained in simple terms. Let’s say we get this window under control, clean up the glass and mop the floor. That leaves us with a queen bed that’s available for use.”

  “Sounds like an interesting concept.”

  “The bedding will be damp, but I have spare sheets.”

  “The plot thickens.”

  “Oh, hell, Tess. Just tell me this. If I follow my instincts, am I dooming my chance to interact with little Abelard?”

  “That’s not his name.”

  “I know, but we don’t have one yet so I have to use something as a place marker. Put me out of my misery. Can I make love to you tonight without worrying that it’s a gigantic mistake?”

  She wound her arms around his neck, being careful not to hit him with the phone she miraculously still held in her left hand. She gazed into his shadowed face. “It probably is a gigantic mistake, but we’ll make it together. You won’t get all the credit.”

  He slowly let out a breath. “Fair enough.”

  Giving her a quick kiss, he released her. “Phil and Damon left the plastic drop cloth rolled up in the room they were painting. I’m sure I’ve seen duct tape somewhere. I’ll look for it if you’ll bring in the broom and dustpan from the kitchen closet.”

  “As wet as it is, we’ll need a mop and bucket.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Are you smiling? You sound like you are. Too bad it’s so dark in here.”

  “I’m smiling. That was cute. So where can I find a mop and bucket?”

  “They’re in the closet, too. I wish Damon and Phil had left their Shop-Vac but they took it with them for a project they’re doing at home.”

  “No worries. Let’s get to it.” She switched on her flashlight app and started to walk away.

  “Tess.” His voice was deeper and sounded strained.

  “What?”

  He reached for her and pulled her close. “I’m going crazy. What if we leave the mess for now?”

  “We shouldn’t.” Her heart rate picked up at the thought of abandoning everything for the sake of passion. “You’d hate yourself if you let this get any worse.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He cupped her bottom in his gloved hands and drew her in tight so she could feel how much he craved her. “But it would be worth a little self-loathing, don’t you think?”

  Her breath hitched. She remembered the pleasure he’d given her, could recall it in exquisite, panty-dampening detail. He had an amazing talent for choosing the exact pressure and the perfect rhythm to send her spiraling into a climax. No other lover held a candle to Zeke.

  His grip tightened. “What do you say, lady?” His voice was low and seductive as he gave her a sexy nudge with his hips. “The bed’s right behind you.”

  As her blood heated, her resolve faded. Maybe it wouldn’t matter much if they taped the window now or a little later.

  “The storm’s letting up. I doubt the floor will get any wetter.” A gust of wind blew rain through the opening, spraying them with water.

  “What were you saying?”

  Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed. “Okay, so I’m wrong.” He kissed her softly. “Soon,” he murmured as he let her go.

  “Hang on, I’m wobbly.” She clutched the front of his soggy shirt.

  “Uh-oh.” His grip tightened on her waist. “Is something wrong?”

  “Only that I’m consumed by lust and my legs feel like rubber.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He sounded pleased.

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s going in the opposite direction.”

  She laughed. “Saying things like that doesn’t help.”
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  “Which makes me kind of happy. I like knowing you’re focused on my—”

  “Stop! Talk about something else, please.”

  “Like what?”

  “The weather.”

  “Okay, the weather.” He paused. “Say, Tess, the storm really is letting up. If no rain comes in for a while, then we can return to my earlier suggestion.”

  “No, we can’t. This is Wyoming. Just because it’s stopping now doesn’t mean it won’t start up again in ten minutes.”

  “A lot could happen in ten minutes.”

  “Zeke, work with me, here.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re right. We really do need to cover the window and take care of the glass and water on the floor.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Because pretty soon we’ll be walking on it in bare feet. In fact, the rest of us will also be—”

  “And I’m cutting you off, cowboy, before you get me all hot and bothered again. I’m steadier now. Let’s do this.” She pointed her flashlight toward the door. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Left it in the kitchen. Meant to grab it on my way back here, but I was focused on a hot woman and forgot. If you’ll take the lead, I’d appreciate it.”

  His “hot woman” remark reminded her of another reason she’d been unable to forget him. She’d never thought of herself as particularly sexy, probably because she’d been raised by her strict parents not to think like that. Three years with Jared hadn’t changed her opinion of herself.

  Zeke was the first man who’d labeled her hot and his vision of her had changed the way she’d behaved during their weekend together. The mental makeover hadn’t lasted, though. Back in the house she’d once shared with Jared and in a classroom full of small children, she’d reverted to her normal persona—an intelligent woman with average looks and a pleasant smile.

  Finding out she was pregnant hadn’t changed her view of herself, either. If anything, she’d denied even more of her sexuality. Mommies weren’t sexy, or so her parents had taught her. But Zeke, who knew perfectly well that she was a mother-to-be, had just called her hot. And damn it, she felt hot! She wanted to peel him out of those wet clothes and lick him all over.

  In the back of her mind a little voice whispered that surrendering to her urge was counterproductive to her original plan to raise the baby without him. If they rekindled their sexual bond, he might only stick around for her and not for their son. But wait—this was a man who didn’t do commitment.

  And that would make everything worse, wouldn’t it? He’d be her lover until he tired of that role and a father to their son until that also wore thin. He might be good for her ego right now but he was a bad gamble for the long term.

  By the time she’d reached that depressing conclusion, Zeke had retrieved his phone from the kitchen counter and gone off in search of duct tape to hold the plastic over the window. She found the broom, dustpan, mop and bucket in the closet and carried them to the master bedroom. The cleanup would be a challenge using only their phones for light.

  No sooner had she thought that than Zeke walked through the door holding a battery-operated camping lantern. He’d tucked the roll of plastic under his arm and held the duct tape in his other hand.

  “Where was that when we needed it?”

  “Excellent question. Tucked away in the back of the kitchen closet.”

  “You didn’t know it was there?”

  “I knew, all right. But a certain woman who shall remain nameless has the ability to scramble my brain. I completely forgot about it. Herb bought it when I first moved in here. As he said, the power goes out all the time when you live in the country.”

  “I’m glad you remembered. It’ll be a big help.” And once again he’d reminded her that she was sexy enough to make him forget things. Heady stuff. He might be a bad gamble, but they were stranded here, perhaps for the entire night. If she thought she could resist him, she was kidding herself.

  He set the lantern on the bed to give them maximum light. Then he laid the plastic and duct tape on there, too. “Since the rain’s not blowing in right this minute, let’s sweep up the glass first.”

  “What are we going to put the glass in?”

  “I considered hauling the garbage can in here but I hate to. It’ll be all muddy on the bottom after this rain.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. There’s an empty cardboard box in the living room that Damon left for Sophie to play with. Be right back.”

  While he was gone she swept the shards of glass into a pile. The broom dragged wherever the floor was wet, but the glass had to be swept up before they could tackle the water. She went over the same areas several times though tiny pieces were probably still on the floor.

  She glanced up from her sweeping when Zeke returned with the box. “Is there a vacuum cleaner of any kind in the house? I know I’m missing little slivers of glass.”

  “Afraid not.” He put down the box. “I’ll hold the dustpan for you.”

  “Why no vacuum?” She swept glass carefully into the dustpan.

  “The Shop-Vac works fine for now.” He dumped the glass into the box and crouched to get another dustpan full. “Matt’ll probably buy a vacuum cleaner when he moves back in.”

  “Then we shouldn’t walk around barefoot.”

  “Absolutely not.” Glass tinkled as he dropped more into the box. “I’ll carry you.”

  “That’s silly.” She swept the last of the glass into the dustpan. The thought of him carrying her naked was more arousing than silly. “I’ll just wear my shoes.”

  “I’d rather see you wearing my boots.” He dumped the last bit of glass and stood. His slow smile told her exactly what he was picturing. “My boots and nothing else. There’s a fantasy any red-blooded cowboy can appreciate.”

  Normally she would have laughed off the suggestion and insisted shoes were more practical. Instead she met his simmering gaze. “Then I guess I’ll be wearing your boots, won’t I?”

  He sucked in a breath. “Let’s get that damn window covered up.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The tape job wasn’t particularly neat and definitely wasn’t pretty, but Zeke didn’t care. It would do the job. They’d stretched a double layer of plastic as tight as they could. If the wind blew hard enough, the plastic might rub against the remaining broken glass but it would take a while before the glass cut through both layers.

  The repair only had to last until morning. Zeke thought it would. Good thing his right shoulder was uninjured. His left shoulder was bothering him a little because he hadn’t worn the sling all day, but he didn’t want Tess to know he was in pain. When he finally took her to bed, his injury was the last thing in the world she should be thinking about.

  While he applied an extra layer of tape all the way around, she mopped up the water. The rain had started up again while they were covering the window and she looked as if she’d taken a shower with her clothes on. He probably looked the same.

  He kept glancing over at her as she worked. They’d moved the lantern onto the floor so she could see where she needed to mop, and the light allowed him to do some unobtrusive ogling. Every time she gave the handle a firm twist to wring out the mop, her breasts quivered under her wet shirt. The shirt didn’t disguise much. Either she was chilly or aroused.

  She wrung more water into the bucket and looked over at him. “Are you finished?”

  “Not quite. Why?”

  “You’re just standing there holding the roll of tape.”

  “Distracted by the view.” And getting harder by the second.

  “Watching a woman mop a floor turns you on?”

  “It does if her shirt is wet enough.”

  She glanced down. “Oh.” She pulled the material away from her breasts with her free hand. “Didn’t mean to
give you a show.”

  “And here I was hoping you’d intended to.”

  Holding his gaze, she let go of the material and allowed it to cling to her breasts. Her fully visible nipples tightened. “I didn’t think of it, but better late than never.”

  His jeans grew uncomfortably tight. “That shirt must feel clammy against your skin.” Her velvet-soft skin that blushed pink when he made love to her.

  “It does.”

  “You could take it off.”

  “You said you weren’t finished.”

  “Turns out I am.” He tossed the tape to the floor. “How about you?”

  Her blue eyes took on a devilish gleam. “I’ll need at least another ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”

  “Wrong answer.” He closed the distance between them, took the mop away and sent it clattering to the floor. “Finished.”

  When he swept her up into his arms, his shoulder protested but he didn’t care. Her boots fell off her feet but somehow he avoided tripping over them as he turned toward the bed. “I promised you dry sheets. Is that a deal breaker?”

  “Sure isn’t.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Takes too much time and I’m already wet.”

  “Is that a fact?” He was dizzy from wanting her. Carrying her to the foot of the bed, he laid her on the damp coverlet and followed her down. “Where would you be wet, exactly?”

  Her voice was low and silky. “Everywhere, cowboy. Everywhere.”

  Ah, there was the sexy lady he remembered from that hotel room in Texas. “I might need to check out your story, ma’am.”

  Her saucy smile taunted him. “Please do.”

  With a deep groan, he took possession of her mouth while reaching under the hem of her soaked shirt so he could unbutton her pants. Only there was no button. Hallelujah, nothing barred his way except a drawstring. “Love the drawstring concept.”