Roping the Marshal: A Sweet Contemporary Cowboy Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 2)

by Tori Kayson

  “So what are you doing in Coldwater Ridge? Here, at the festival?” Confusion shadowed Wade’s leather-beaten face.

  “Recuperating at the ranch after a nasty accident, for starters.” He didn’t dare look at the female breathing fire next to him. She was probably shooting him daggers, and he’d burst out laughing. “But then Summer convinced me to show off my sketches.”

  Wade flicked his head toward Maverick’s table then back to them and shoved hands into his pockets. “You two know each other?”

  Mav finally dared a glance in Summer’s direction.

  She licked her lips. Moist. Red. Soft.

  Desire flickered to life and burned his limbs. He blinked. What was the question?

  “Yes, since he’s been staying at the ranch…”

  “She very kindly offered to help me organize my sketches. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be here today,” he finished when Summer’s voice faded. Now, back off, cowboy.

  Wade nodded, understanding darkening his expression. A disappointed sigh bellowed from his nose. He twisted toward Summer. “Well, I better be going. Lots of work waiting for me at home. It was great to see you, Summer. Take care.”

  “Wait!” Summer snagged the cowboy’s forearm, keeping the man from exiting. “You wanted to ask me something?” Her brows arched as she leaned in, waiting, her fingers still latched around the guy’s arm.

  “Nah.” Johnson’s gaze switched to Mav. “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  Dude, you’ll be waiting a long time.

  The cowboy gently disengaged from Summer’s arm and stalked away.

  Summer turned slowly toward him. Her nutmeg brows hovered above narrow slits. Full lips pressed together. Arms folded across a chest that lifted with every deep breath.

  Uh oh. Not quite the reaction he was going for. He took off his hat and scratched his head. Time to reassess.

  “What just happened here?” She practically snorted fire.

  He plopped the hat back on his head, frustration stiffening his back. Did that kiss from the other night not mean anything to her? “Do you really think Wade Johnson is the cowboy for you? That he’d make a wonderful daddy for Logan?”

  “I’ll never know now, will I?” Her arms dropped to her sides, her fingers curling into fists.

  Those same fingers had curled around his neck, threaded through his hair, splayed across his heart. Didn’t she realize that they belonged together? That he was the missing link to make their family whole, complete? That thought ping ponged through his brain, icing his blood.

  No!

  He wasn’t a full time cowboy. He’d made his choice years ago to leave Coldwater Ridge, and ranching. As much as she might want him to, he couldn’t fathom leaving his career now. Could he? “Summer—”

  Her hand uncurled and a finger poked him in the chest. Determination thinned her normally full lips, and steel glints sparked from turbulent blue eyes. “You see. That’s exactly why I never want to be involved with another law enforcement officer again. Because you think you can ramrod people into doing what you want them to do. It doesn’t matter how they feel or what they want.” The finger jabbed again for good measure.

  “Is Wade really who you want, Summer?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her lips quivered and the steel glints melted into puddles on mottled cheeks. “Go back to Dallas, Maverick! To your job and the apartment you never see. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Her anger appeared to be shattered, and a sob gurgled from her throat. She stalked away from her table, a dejected slant to her shoulders and a hand covering her face before the crowd swallowed her.

  Maverick kicked at the hard ground and slapped his hat against his thigh. No! That wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all.

  He wanted her and Logan by his side. He wanted a lifetime of love, to share the load of everyday life, to lighten hers by keeping Logan safe. He wanted to wake up every morning to those freckles and that sweet laughter. He wanted to gaze into her eyes every night as he held her tight while they drifted off to sleep, locked in each other’s arms. He wanted to love her as a husband loved a wife, to create more precious little ones.

  But, with his job, was that fair? Every day he worked, he took a chance he might not come home.

  Just like his partner.

  A fresh wave of grief and loss stabbed him. For his partner. And now, for the love of this precious woman.

  13

  Maverick tossed the duffel bag in the cab of his truck, indecision churning his insides. Should he swing by Summer’s apartment on the way out of town? Or would that only heap frustration on top of the other conflicting emotions rampaging through his body?

  Leaving without saying goodbye didn’t sit well with him. Rankled, actually. His heart kept whispering to go to her, to apologize, to leave on a good note, but his head kept blaring what was the point? His world revolved around suspects, protective services and safe houses. Hers involved caring for her son and finding a suitable partner, a “safe” husband.

  He scoffed. Safe! Like anyone would ever call him that.

  Their worlds had collided for a time, but that’s all it could be. So why did that sting worse than the damage to his ribcage?

  He never worked a case where their team hadn’t devised a well-thought out plan, complete with contingencies. That’s what he’d do, first thing back in his apartment. Come up with a plan. Even if that plan meant figuring out how to get on with his dreary existence without a certain special female and her adorable son to light up his day.

  He dug the phone from his pocket. Ignored the missed call from his boss and glanced at the time. Three thirty. According to his mother and sister, Summer should have been here by now to setup for tonight’s event. Probably waiting for him to be a long ways down the road so she didn’t chance crossing paths. He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, not scrounging up an ounce of remorse that he still hadn’t returned his boss’s call.

  Boots crunched through the gravel driveway, heavy and definitely male, along with a couple sets of dancing dogs. Disappointment practically crushed Mav’s chest.

  “It’s been great having you around the ranch even if I couldn’t put you to work. Sure she can’t convince you to stay?” More than a hint of amusement laced Fargo’s deep voice, but also a touch of regret.

  Mav growled and turned around, a scowl tightening his face. Son of a deuce, he didn’t need guilt from his brother too. He already dished enough of it out himself.

  Shiloah was tucked in her daddy’s arms. Miniature fists waved against Fargo’s red flannel shirt. His brother’s lips curved as he took one of her hands and kissed it.

  Oh. She, as in Shiloah.

  Deflated, he scrounged up a weak smile. “If—”

  Both dogs barked and took off running. Beyond his brother’s shoulder, a car wound up the long driveway leading to the ranch. Summer. Finally!

  “Ahh. I see how it is.” This time, Fargo didn’t bother hiding his enjoyment.

  Mav gave him the stink eye. “You don’t see anything.”

  “Only that I was referring to the wrong ‘she.’” Fargo tipped his head in the direction of the car speeding up the drive then back to Maverick. “I think I’ve missed something here.”

  “Not a thing.” He huffed.

  “No?”

  Mav was about to blast his brother with a sarcastic response when the engine shut down with a couple extra belches. A car door flung open then boots scrambled across the gravel.

  Logan raced toward him, arms stretched out, the dogs circling. “Mav!” The anguished cry ripped from the boy’s mouth. Tears tracked down Logan’s normally baby-smooth cheeks.

  Just before Logan made it to him, the kid tripped over Hope and sprawled forward, arms flailing in circles to regain his balance.

  Maverick reached down and scooped the youngster up before he fell. Nestled the kid against his chest and rested a cheek against silky-fine hair.

  The sobs wrenching from the boy’s chest final
ly subsided into a spasm of shudders.

  “Hey, it’s going to be all right.” He patted Logan’s back, swallowing the huge clump of emotion that settled in his throat. He’d miss this little mischief maker.

  “Hey.” Summer’s soft voice came out faint and a bit scratchy. Had she been crying too?

  His gaze started at her boots and took its time traveling north. Past the honey colored denims and slender legs, arms folded across the soft-looking pumpkin colored sweater that hugged her curves. A jacket draped her shoulders. When he finally made it to her face, he could see why Logan was upset. Because Mama was. She sniffled and brushed a palm across her moist cheek.

  “Hey, Summer, Logan.” Fargo’s voice broke through Mav’s inspection, all traces of humor gone. “Mav, I’ll see you around, okay? Keep out of trouble on the job, and if you need anything, just call.” His brother’s hand clapped his shoulder and squeezed while the other held tight to a squirming Shiloah. Then he left them alone, Hope and Charity herding Fargo toward his house.

  “So, today’s the day you get your life back. I…” Summer’s voice trailed off, her wet lashes lifting over mottled cheeks. She brushed some loose strands of hair behind an ear. Scuffled the toe of her boot against the gravel.

  “Yeah.” The word came out along with a healthy sigh.

  Seemed more like he was leaving it behind.

  “I don’t want you to go.” Logan wailed, his sobs vibrating against Mav’s chest.

  “I’m sorry, cowboy. I have to go back to work.” Somehow he managed to force the words past the dry-as-cotton tongue. He glanced to Summer for help, but she only arched those brows higher, leaving him out to dry.

  Logan framed Maverick’s cheeks in his chubby hands. “Stay here, Mav.”

  The kid’s unhappy face and his mama trying to hide her sniffles behind a cough broke his heart. Couldn’t they see that? “I live in Dallas, Logan, where my job is. I was only here—” Recuperating? Falling in love? His brain tossed around a couple fill-in-the-blank answers, finally deciding on something Logan should understand. “—until my ribs got better. Now, the doctor says it’s time for me to go back.”

  But the question was…go back to what? An empty apartment. Protecting the next state witness or whistle blower at a safe house. Working alongside a new partner. None of it sounded appealing. Not without these two.

  The boy pressed his eyelids closed, and more tears leaked out to track down his cheeks.

  “You know. My mother is baking cookies. I bet they’re coming out of the oven right now.” He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed, loud and long, hoping Logan would catch on. “Yep. I can smell them. Can you?”

  Logan scrunched his nose and took a few deep breaths, reducing his shudders to quivers.

  Just like he’d hoped.

  “Yes. I smell them.”

  “What do you think? Chocolate chip? Oatmeal? Peanut—”

  “Oatmeal. Yuck!”

  “You don’t like oatmeal cookies?”

  “No.” Logan shook his head violently, as if even breathing oatmeal would be akin to touching poison ivy, his eyes as wide and warm as the chocolate kisses smooshed in the middle of some of the cookies cooling on the counter.

  “What if they had chocolate chips in them? Would you want to try one?” Mav’s favorite. Actually, his mother had packed a plastic bag for his commute.

  Logan tilted his head sideways. “Maybe.”

  Maverick squeezed the boy in a tight hug. Maybe just a bit of heart wrenching going on here and maybe he had to blink back a tear. He pressed a kiss to the youngster’s head then set Logan on the ground. He crouched until they were face-to-face, Maverick’s hands feeling like bear paws as they curled around the kid’s tiny shoulders. “You take care of your sweet mama, you hear?”

  Logan nodded, all serious, trying like a big boy to stifle the tremors that still rocked his torso.

  Maverick took off his hat and plopped it on the boy’s head with a firm tap. So what if he had to buy a new hat, his second or third since knowing Logan. It was worth it. “That’s a big cowboy. Now, go ask my mama for an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.”

  “Okay. Bye, Mav.” Short, stodgy legs took off running toward the house.

  Mav watched until the front door opened and closed behind Logan and then he finally straightened. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gut churning with regret, his heart aching.

  “You’re really something, you know?”

  He glanced at Summer, who’d moved to stand next to him. Were her lips quivering too?

  Son of a deuce if he didn’t want to kiss them, to make them quiver from an entirely different reason.

  ****

  Would he just kiss her? Put her out of her misery?

  Summer wrapped arms around her waist, shivering in the warmth of the late afternoon sun, even under the heavy sweater. She clamped her jaw to keep her teeth from clattering.

  “And would that be a good something or—”

  “So you’re leaving today.”

  Mav nodded. His lips pressed in a thin line as he backed his rump against the truck and folded arms across his chest.

  Did he really have to look so scrumptious on the last day he was here? Not that she hadn’t considered devouring him every other time, but today? Mercy! It wasn’t bad enough that his biceps rounded out his sleeves, practically busting out of his Henley, but his legs seemed to go on forever, all the way from the wide belt buckle with the K blazing from the silver to the shiny tips of his new leather boots.

  He looked like a cowboy, even without the Stetson he’d just given her son. Why couldn’t he be one?

  Her breath came out on a shudder. Sheesh, get a hold of yourself, girl. You’re sounding just like your almost three-year-old.

  “Come here.” His arm unfolded and reached out to slide around her back.

  That was more like it. She buried her face in his velvety Henley. Blinked back sorrow when his arms draped around her lower back, his touch warm, comforting. Oddly exhilarating, though, with the rapid thump of his heart under her palm.

  He didn’t smell like a cowboy. No, he smelled better than Wade. Leather and woods and some kind of spice, all wrapped up in a clean laundry scent. “Mmmm. You smell nice.”

  “So do you.” His chin rumbled against her head, his hands dancing circles on her lower back, warming her all the way to her toes.

  She lifted her head to look up at him.

  Silver eyes appeared to soften with regret as he met her gaze. His head dipped until his cinnamon scented lips whispered against her cheek. “Summer, you don’t know how sorry I am that I can’t be your cowboy.”

  Her heart hurt worse than if a bullet ripped through it, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. Not like she didn’t know that already, but did he have to put it into words? “Me too.”

  “Can we still be friends?”

  “Friends?” Nausea swamped her. “You want to be friends.” Friends! After the kisses they’d shared? She backed up a couple steps. Just enough to put some space between them. But not enough that his arms dropped away.

  He stared off in the distance, toward Majesty’s pasture. Her fingers itched to smooth the tic that pulsed in his jaw.

  “Yeah. Maybe.” His haunted gaze landed back on her. “Why not?”

  “Isn’t that what someone says when they’re breaking up,” she said, more statement than question. Dread prickled her eyes, but she refused to give in to the deluge that threatened.

  Silence. Only the chirping of the birds, the scuttering of squirrels as they darted from tree to tree, and cattle lowing. No Logan. No other Kesters or ranch guests. No couple waiting for a photograph. No dogs. Just the two of them.

  One more step back, and she folded arms across her chest, hiked her chin. Stubborn man! “We were never together, so how could we break—”

  A strangled groan, then lips came down on hers. His hands framed her cheeks, then hungry fingers slid through her hair. His mouth demanded release o
f pent up emotions, devoured her lips, her cheeks, her jaw. When his mouth latched onto her neck, she moaned her pleasure. But then his kiss transitioned into something softer, teasing almost, as if he had all the time in the world. Hands moved inside the waistline of her pants, and his thumbs danced along bare skin on her back, sparking fire to race through her veins.

  Her arms wound around his neck, tugging him down, inviting his mouth to explore her neck again. She mashed her length against his until only the fabric of their clothes separated them. Her body trembled with need, longing to be loved. Her skin tingled from his touch. How long had it been since she’d felt feminine, beautiful, desirable? Too long!

  His mouth paused at the same time his fingers stilled. As if he just realized what he was doing and where they were. Or did he regret kissing her? He nibbled her bottom lip with one last teasing kiss then disconnected.

  Whoa! Her eyelashes fluttered open. Breathe in, breath out. You can do it, girl. You’re a survivor! Her pulse threatened to explode while air clogged in her lungs. Summer pasted on a nonchalant look, hoped to cover her disappointment over the abrupt ending to that kiss. That nonchalance faded when his thumbs moved to trace the curve of her now swollen lips. A tremor shook her top half.

  “You were saying?” he asked. His smug tone challenged her to remember.

  “I...um.” Fragments fluttered back, crumbled into oblivion with that kiss. Couldn’t she just pretend that all was right with her world? That he’d be here on the ranch this evening, tomorrow, and the next day when she came? That he wanted to stay in Coldwater Ridge…with her and Logan? That confusion and loss didn’t constrict her chest like a starving boa?

  “Friends.” She repeated the word, testing it on her tongue.

  His brows hiked, waiting for her answer.

  Could she? After that kiss, and the way her body responded to this man?

  “No, Maverick.” It killed her to say it, but she forced the words out anyway. “I don’t think we can be friends.”