by Joann Baker
She stumbled to the shower, turning on the water as she stripped out of her baby doll pajamas. She couldn’t wait for her furniture to get here so she could put on her satin sheets and sleep in the nude once again. She found clothing at night too restrictive for a good night’s sleep.
She squealed as she stepped under the spray, forgetting she wasn’t in her bathroom back home where the water was always hot. Here, the old, but still functioning hot water heater took a little while to warm up. Quickly soaping up and rinsing off, she leaned her head back just as the water was finally heating up. She wet her hair, lathering up the fragrant shampoo into a thick white foam. The smell reminded her of spring, light and citrusy. By the time she was applying conditioner, she actually had to adjust the water temperature to a cooler level.
Another twenty minutes and her hair was drier than it was wet, ten minutes to dress and she was ready to leave the house. She didn’t take the time to make coffee, knowing she’d just waste the majority of it. The first thing she was going to buy when she paid off her moving expenses was a one-cup coffee maker just like the one her parents had.
She sighed, her emotions a mixture of sadness and gladness as she got into her car to drive to work. She was sad because she’d moved so far from home, but happy that she’d moved so far from home. Twenty-five was too old to still be living with her parents. Especially if she wanted any chance of finding someone to share her life with.
There was still the stigma of living at home at her age, no matter what her father said. Yes, it wasn’t as bad for a woman as it was for a man, but it was still frowned upon. No, she needed to get away from her family and her sisters if she had any hope of finding a man. Lynn and Faye were two of the best sisters a girl could ever have, but they were too pretty and likable for someone like her to compete with.
Not that she wanted to be in competition with her sisters. It was just that every time she brought a guy home, he usually ended up falling for one of her prettier, skinnier sisters.
Not that she was man hungry. She figured she could do without a man if that’s what the universe had in store for her. But, she wanted a family, someone to grow old with, and someone to share the everyday things. Corny, but true.
Ryder’s face flashed before her eyes. Of course, any woman would want to spend every day with him. He was just so… masculine. It brought every feminine feeling she’d ever possessed to the forefront.
But then, he probably made every woman feel that way. She blew out a deep breath as she parked and made her way to the library. He’d be helping her paint for at least another week. She only hoped she could make it through those few days without letting him know just how much his masculine presence disconcerted her. The sooner the job got done, the better. Then her life could go back to normal. Quiet, orderly and without the sexiest man she’d ever seen in it.
˜**˜
“What’s up, Picasso?”
Ryder scowled at his older brother’s ribbing. Even before the sun had risen to light up the morning sky, he’d been out of bed, dreading the coming evening. Anticipation at seeing Georgia again warred with his feeling of irritation that she seemed to be completely oblivious to his natural charm.
Maybe that was the crux of his problem. He’d never had any trouble with the ladies before. They were usually drawn to him like flies to honey. Without conceit, he realized that a large part of his attraction to women had more to do with his looks than his family name and the success and money behind it. Still, the fact that Georgia was impressed by neither his looks nor his name set his stomach to churning. So much so that he’d been unable to enjoy his morning coffee. Strong and black, the brew he usually drank a pot of each day, sat untouched in the cup at his elbow.
“Funny, Gabe. You should be a comedian.” For something to do, he reached for the cold coffee, grimacing at the bitterness as it slid down his throat.
“Don’t you know, brother, I’m good at everything?”
The slap on his shoulder as Gabe sat down, burned like holy fire, but he refused to rub the spot. To relieve some of his tension yesterday, he’d tried his hand at breaking one of the orneriest stallions the Ace in the Hole had seen in a while and had gotten thrown more than once for his troubles. His oldest brother had been his idol since Ryder had gotten big enough to toddle around after him. For him, the bond had only deepened after the death of their parents. Gabe, however, a normal fourteen-year-old at the time, had grown steadily more sullen and belligerent. Fights in school and with his grandparents at home had led to individual and family counseling.
After several months, all had seemed to be getting better. Until Gabe had entered the dating scene. At first, his choice of romantic partners had been chalked down to finding his individuality. Over the years, as he continued to seek out the hardest drinking, good-time girls—even the married ones—concern for him had once again grown. He’d settled into a routine of working his ass off for weeks at a time, keeping his nose clean and to the grindstone, and then going off on a bender and wreaking havoc, usually spurred on by a less than savory female acquaintance. The last one, known for sticky fingers and a long rap sheet, had managed to avail herself of several pieces of their late mother’s jewelry. Gabe had refused to press charges once the pieces had been returned.
Why? Because for all of his bad choices female-wise, Gabe was still one of the most kind-hearted individuals Ryder had ever met. Without making a big deal out of it, he managed to anonymously provide food for hungry families in the area, jobs for men down on their luck and made significant donations to the local children’s home and animal shelter. He was a walking contradiction, and Ryder had long ago learned to stop trying to figure him out. He was, no matter what, the best brother a guy could ever have. Him and Cal.
“Yeah, you’re a real legend in your own mind.”
Ryder’s middle brother entered the kitchen, a grin animating his normally somber expression.
“Don’t be jealous, bro, just because I got the looks and the personality.”
“It’d be nice if you had a brain to go along with those.”
“Hey, are you still harping because the books are a little behind?”
“A little?”
Realizing that the conversation was about to take a turn for the worse, Ryder intervened quickly. “Don’t you think we should get to those horses? I have to be at Pop’s place before five.”
Instead of having the effect he desired, Gabe turned an interested gaze his way.
“Word around town is that Miss Georgia Stevens is a curvy little number with breasts that could fill a man’s…” He made a gesture that all men recognized.
“Shut up, Gabe.” Ryder jumped up, coffee sloshing from the sides of his cup as he dumped the remainder into the white porcelain sink. Taking a minute to calm his jumping pulse, he stared out the window that overlooked the back paddocks, letting his gaze go up the mountain, past the line of pine trees that seemed to reach right up to the bright blue sky. “I don’t think she’s your type.”
Gabe, unperturbed by his brother’s response, laughed deeply. “She has a pulse, doesn’t she?”
In spite of his best efforts, anger simmered inside of Ryder. Not the kind of brotherly annoyance he normally felt when he and one of his siblings were having a quarrel, but a righteous anger that demanded he protect Georgia’s honor from his brother’s crude comments. He pushed away from the sink. “I’m warning you, Gabe, leave Georgie alone.”
“Georgie?” Gabe’s black brow rose. “Nice work, little brother.” He brought his empty cup to the sink, placing it beside Ryder’s. “And since you are my brother, I’ll wait till you’re done with her before—”
Without thought, Ryder’s clenched fist pulled back. Before he could swing at the brother he idolized, Cal was there, pushing his way between them. “The horses are waiting, Ry, and the morning’s getting away from us.”
Cal watched his little brother until the door closed behind him. Turning, he glared at his oldest sibling
. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
The typical, cocky grin disappeared, replaced by a thunderous anger that Cal intuitively knew wasn’t directed at him—or even Ryder.
“Nothing’s wrong with me. I wish everybody would shut the hell up and stop asking me that.” He turned on his heel and stalked away, his usual answer to anything of importance.
Cal sighed, carefully setting his cup beside the others. He loved his brothers, truly, he did. But he wondered if there would ever come a day when he could stop being the mediator, the peacemaker? The one that made sure everything was done.
˜**˜
Georgia’s heart pounded at the knock on the door. Determined to be warm and friendly, she went to open it. Ryder stood on the threshold, gray Stetson in hand, a wary expression in his brown eyes. Her throat went dry as she looked at the tall cowboy, once again struck by his physical presence. How could one man be so mouthwateringly gorgeous?
Old insecurities surfaced and she hid them behind her oversized glasses and gave what she hoped passed for a welcoming smile. “Come in.” She pushed the door open wider, allowing him room to enter. “I’ve started on the hallway.” She glanced over her shoulder, her body doing odd things as the big cowboy followed behind her. “The taping, that is. I’m almost finished. See?”
She groaned inwardly. Taking a deep breath she turned toward him, mentally commanding herself to stop talking like an eager sixth-grade girl dealing with the class hottie. “Do you want to help me finish that or get started on the ceiling?” She’d done most of the taping for the floorboards, leaving only one end of the hallway near the door of the bedroom that she’d chosen for herself.
Still reeling from the sight of her rounded backside in the cutoff denim shorts, Ryder swallowed against a dry throat and searched for words that remained hidden beneath the unexpected rush of sexual desire coursing through him. As much as he’d like to watch her bend over in those sexy shorts, he didn’t think his heart could take it. Taking the roll of tape from her hand, he grinned, “Why don’t I finish this while you get started on the trim?”
Damn those dimples, Georgia thought, as she strove for a bland-yet-friendly expression. That his smile was doing more to arouse her than the practiced efforts of her few past relationships confounded her. For a woman who prided herself on having her head screwed on straight, the feelings he stirred were damn confusing. “That’ll work.”
The quirk of her lips was like a shot of whiskey to an already inebriated man. With a nod, he turned, glad for a few minutes reprieve. Taping off the remaining section of the wall was a no-brainer and his mind kept straying to her pink, bow-shaped mouth. He wondered if her lips were as soft as they looked.
Dammit, he needed to find a break between working with the horses and working here and go on an actual date. With someone who knew the south end of a horse from the north end—someone familiar with his way of life and the day-to-day operations of a working ranch. Getting involved with a book-smart librarian would not be a good idea. Besides, she might up and decide to go back home.
“What brought you to Devil’s Spur, if you don’t mind my asking?” Ryder glanced over his shoulder, immediately regretting his decision to do so when he caught sight of her on the ladder, stretching up to painstakingly paint a line close to the papered trim, her lush bottom lip caught between straight white teeth as she concentrated on her task.
Georgia kept her attention on the line of Antarctic White paint as she carefully guided the brush in her hand, willing it not to shake and make a mess of the whole thing. She’d found it easier to talk to Ryder when she wasn’t looking at him. Used to looking people in the eye all day at her job, connecting with them so that they felt comfortable and would look forward to returning to the library, the way she felt around Ryder was a new experience. And it wasn’t simply because he was a man—she dealt with those too. A lot of fathers brought their children to story time or to check out a book for a school report, and she didn’t go all shy and tongue-tied around them. There was just something about Ryder that made her… jumpy. Like her skin was too tight and a fire had been lit in her belly.
“I wanted a job where I could be more in charge, you know? Plan the programs instead of just doing what other people told me to do.”
Ryder nodded, agreeing with her. “I do know what you mean.”
“That’s right, you have two older brothers, don’t you?”
“Yep, and they can be bossy as hell.” Ryder bent over to do another section of trim. The movement drew the denim of his jeans tight against his buttocks. Georgia tried to look away, she really did. She blushed when he straightened back up and caught her looking. He didn’t say anything, thank goodness, as he resumed the tedious job.
“My sisters aren’t older, but they are just as bossy.”
“Are they your only siblings?”
“Yep. Daddy decided three girls were more than enough. What about your family? Did your mama decide three boys were enough?” Georgia glanced down at Ryder and realized by the stiffness in his stance that her question must have a hit too close to home. “Ryder, I didn’t mean—”
He laid down the tape, grabbed a paint roller and turned towards her. Gone was the cowboy whose smile had captured her heart. This was a man who had known heartache. Before she could think about what she was doing, she was climbing off the ladder to go to him.
“My parents died when I was young.”
Georgia laid her paint brush on top of her can of paint. “I’m so sorry, Ryder. I don’t know what I would do if my parents were gone.”
Georgia had to fight the urge to raise on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Why don’t we take a break? I made some tea this morning.”
“Sounds good.” The grin was back on his face, even if it was a little lackluster. Who could blame him? She really had no idea how one coped with the death of one’s parents, especially at what she assumed was a young age.
Ryder followed Georgia into the small kitchen, watching the sway of her rounded hips yet again. What was it about her roundness that called to something inside him like never before? He watched her from the doorway, unwilling to be next to her in such close quarters. To distract himself, he ran an eye over the room. It was still in good condition. The appliances were relatively new, the house having been used as a foreman’s house a few years back. The linoleum could be replaced, he thought. Maybe tile? He imagined Georgia would like that.
“Here you go.”
His self-distraction had worked so well that he hadn’t heard her approach. She stood before him, her small hand clutching a large glass filled to the top with ice and the familiar amber liquid. Today, she wore her hair pulled back from the face, gathered into a barrette at the nape of her neck. Small tendrils had already worked themselves loose during the hour or so he’d been here. He took a long drink of his tea to prevent himself from reaching out and stroking it behind her ear.
Georgia watched with fascinated eyes as Ryder drank his tea. He tilted back his head, his strong throat working as he emptied the glass. A small streak of paint marred his forearm, drawing her gaze to the rest of his well-built body.
“Wow, that was really good.”
Her gaze followed his tongue as he licked his lips. Immediately, thoughts of tracing those lips with her own tongue flooded her mind. Was she a naughty librarian or what? She took his glass and turned away. Away from temptation. “So what exactly do you do on the Ace in the Hole?”
“We mostly breed and train cutting horses.”
She refilled his glass and took a seat at the small breakfast bar. When he sat down across from her, his knees knocked against hers. She cleared her throat. “No cattle?”
“We raise some cattle, mostly to feed our hands, and we also sell a few locally. It’s not the bulk of our income by any means.” He tossed a look her way. “You should come over sometime. I’ll show you around.”
She looked into his dark eyes, surprised when she didn’t see any flirtatious glimmer. He
was completely sincere in his offer. “I’d like that.” She blinked at the excitement that shot through her. The freedom to run the small-town library like she wanted had been the main draw to the area, but Georgia had always wanted to see the rugged west so to speak. Now, she was being offered a way to do just that. “I’d like that a lot.”
They finished their tea quickly and returned to painting. For the next several hours, they each concentrated on the job at hand, ignoring, by silent agreement, the sexual awareness that was growing between them. It was almost nine o’clock when they called an end to the day. The hallway walls and ceiling were finished along with the ceiling in the living room.
“Not too shabby for a day’s work, huh?”
“Not at all,” Georgia grimaced as she rolled her shoulders.
“Arms hurting?”
“You’d think I’d be used to keeping my arms up for extended periods of time from putting books back on the shelves.”
Ryder dropped the roller into the empty paint tray and moved behind her. When his hands touched her shoulders, her breath caught. His big hands were warm, his fingers strong, yet gentle, as he kneaded her knotted flesh. “Ohhh,” she moaned, as her aching muscles relaxed. “If you ever get tired of being a cowboy, you have the talent to be a great masseuse.”
He moved around her slowly, continuing to manipulate her tired muscles. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”
Georgia’s eyes opened to find his head close to hers. She could see the tiny golden flecks in his chocolate eyes and tension of a whole different sort erased the tiredness she’d felt seconds before.
His hands moved from her shoulders to cradle her face. When his head bent, Georgia could only wait with baited breath as his lips came closer, brushing gently over hers, once… twice… A shiver coursed through her, followed by all-consuming heat. Her lashes drifted down, only to shoot back up as Ryder captured her mouth in a searing kiss that stole the very breath from her body and caused her heart to race in a wild, uneven tempo.
