Barefoot Blue Jean Night

by Debbi Rawlins

  She’d heard all she wanted to hear about Seth’s perfect ass, his bedroom blue eyes and the way he’d lifted Lily-from-San Francisco onto a horse as if she “hadn’t weighed a thing.”

  God help her, Jamie honestly didn’t think she could listen to any more of the silliness. She and her friends had often discussed men—admittedly ad nauseum at times—but these women were ridiculous. They never gave it a rest. Anyone would think they’d come halfway across the country just to get laid.

  Sometimes they spoke openly in front of Rachel which made Jamie cringe all the way down to her toes. Three of the guys were her brothers, for heaven’s sake. Although Rachel had been cagey about the website. She’d known what she was doing by posting the guys’ pictures.

  Still, it gave Jamie the willies to think Cole could consider her one of the pack. If that were the case, she didn’t blame him for dodging her. That didn’t mean she’d back off. Only that she had to be smarter and careful to prove to him she wasn’t like the rest.

  Besides, last night she’d been robbed. They’d almost kissed before being interrupted by that drunken lout Gunderson. There was no way in hell Jamie would ignore where that kiss could’ve led. Nor would she allow the incident to encourage Cole to keep his distance from her.

  As soon as he parked the truck and climbed out, she moved away from the window and briefly listened to the laughter coming from the den. Good, everyone was busy reviewing tomorrow’s activities. Now was the chance to catch him in private. But she didn’t want him to think she’d been eagerly waiting for him.

  She eyed the stairs, then ran up as fast as her tender thigh muscles would allow. If she timed it right, she’d be coming off the last step when he came through the door. Except when she got to the second floor and turned around, through the window she caught a glimpse of him disappearing into the stables.

  “You did not just do that,” she muttered, annoyed—with him in general but more so with herself for acting like a twelve-year-old.

  Jamie sighed and took baby steps down because sore muscles hadn’t been enough punishment for her arrogance. Chafed skin and an aching butt had been added to the list of ouches, though the cream she’d bought at the variety store seemed to be helping. Not as much as Cole’s liniment had, but at least she wasn’t stinking up every room she entered.

  She let herself out the front door, waved to a couple of older cowboys who left the bunkhouse and were headed toward a row of trucks. At any given time it looked like a used-car lot on the west side of the barn. She wondered how many employees worked at the Sundance and hoped that none of them were in the stables with Cole.

  He was in the back when she entered. A dim light was on, and she heard the low murmur of his husky voice. She stopped to listen, not out of nosiness, but if he was talking to someone she didn’t want to barge in on him. If he was talking to one of the horses…well, maybe she shouldn’t barge in on that, either.

  She stood, undecided, beginning to wonder if he’d feel ambushed by her.

  His voice changed octaves and drifted out into the open.

  “What can I do for you, Jamie?”

  She jumped a little because she still couldn’t see him, or figure out how he knew it was her. “If you’re busy we can talk later.”

  “Come on back.”

  “I don’t know where you are.”

  “The last stall on the right.”

  She continued toward the back, her eyes growing more accustomed to the dimness. The sun hadn’t gone down completely but inside the shadowed stables it would be easy for someone unfamiliar with the hard, straw-strewn floor to misstep.

  He was standing in front of a bay mare whose ears went back as soon as she spotted Jamie. “She’s pregnant,” he warned, “and irritable today, so better keep your distance.”

  Jamie nodded and glanced around. The stall was different from the rest—much larger, with a Plexiglas window on the side.

  “That’s a surveillance window,” Cole said quietly, continuing to stroke the mare’s neck. “So we can keep an eye on the old girl but not disturb her.”

  “This is a foaling box?”

  Mild surprise lifted his brows. “Yep.”

  “I remembered from my uncle’s peanut farm.” She kept her gaze on the way the mare blew out short and hard through flared nostrils. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to upset her.”

  “If Jezebel was upset, you’d know it. Isn’t that right, girl?”

  Jamie looked over and saw him smiling at the horse as he gently stroked her neck. He was different around animals, more relaxed, content. “What about you? Would you prefer I weren’t here?”

  He hesitated just enough to make her regret the question. “I don’t mind.”

  “I got the feeling you might be avoiding me because of what happened with your neighbor last night.”

  He moved away from the mare, his lips pulled into a thin line. “I’m not avoiding anyone. Ranches don’t run themselves.”

  Dammit, why had she brought up the incident? She honestly hadn’t thought much about it. But of course Cole was still smarting. She would be, too, if someone had called her a whore, no matter what the context.

  She blinked when she realized he was standing directly in front of her, waiting for her to move out of his way. He smelled surprisingly good for having been out in the heat all day, a pleasant citrus scent almost as if he’d recently taken a shower. But if he’d been home since she returned from town, she would’ve known.

  A sudden thought struck her, a most unappealing thought…he could’ve been visiting a woman in town. Well, that idea totally sucked. Made sense though, since he hadn’t made it home for dinner.

  “So…” She stuck her hands in her back pockets as she slowly stepped backwards. “How was your meeting?”

  “Too many opinions. Not enough problem-solving.”

  “Ah, so a normal run-of-the-mill meeting.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “Pretty much. Look out.”

  “What?” She understood his warning when her butt made contact with a pole. “Oh.” She automatically rubbed her bottom.

  “Sore there, too?”

  “Uh…that would make you grin because?”

  He massaged the back of his neck, a pained expression on his face as he tried to pull back the smile. “Bad manners, I suppose.”

  Jamie laughed, made sure she cleared the pole and turned to walk with him past the stalls. “You missed dinner.”

  “I grabbed something at Marge’s Diner.”

  “I met her today. She’s quite a character.”

  Cole sort of grunted, and looked as though he was sorry he’d brought up the subject. “Can’t believe a thing that woman says.”

  “About you?”

  He flushed a little. “I expect she had something to say about everyone in town.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not one for gossip.”

  “Can’t imagine that makes a bit of difference to Marge.” He stopped to inspect a roan who’d stuck out its nose and whinnied.

  “You’re right about that.” She sighed when she realized he wasn’t going to take the bait and ask what she meant. It was supposed to be her opening to find out if he had a special woman in town.

  His attention was solely on the horse as he worked his fingers up and down the animal’s mane, frowning.

  “What’s wrong?” She tentatively reached out and touched the velvety nose.

  “Ginger could use a good clipping and brushing.”

  “I can help with that. I think.”

  He sent her a faint smile. “Thanks, but it’s not your job. The person who is responsible for her upkeep will be getting his backside in here tomorrow to do the job he was originally hired to do.”

  “Instead of catering to a herd of city fillies,” she teased, using a man’s deep voice.

  He cocked a brow at her.

  “I wasn’t mimicking you. Just saying…”

  “Good, because it would’ve been a lous
y imitation.”

  Jamie grinned, thoroughly agreeing. He had a much huskier, sexier voice but she wisely kept the observation to herself. “Marge says you were against opening the ranch to guests.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Want to know what else she had to say?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Really?”

  For a second, he seemed torn, then shook his head. “Anything you hear around town is likely to be third- and fourth-hand information.”

  “The McAllisters have a sterling reputation. Everybody adores your family.”

  “Not everybody,” he murmured, then clenched his jaw as if sorry he’d spoken his thoughts.

  “Gunderson’s an ass, and I don’t want to talk about him, either, because he really screwed me up last night.”

  She saw the corners of Cole’s mouth twitch with amusement. So what? It was true, he’d interrupted their kiss, dammit. “Nobody seems to like him.” Cole abruptly turned his head, and she met his eyes with a chilly glare. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say a word about last night. To anyone.”

  “Yeah, I appreciate that,” he said slowly. “I filled Rachel in this morning.”

  “Why?” She pressed her lips together when she realized her response was inappropriate. “I just meant, why worry her… She’s trying to make a go of the dude ranch, and none of the guests were involved.”

  “You’re a guest.”

  That stopped her. “Well, yes, of course—” She was definitely an outsider, and how she could think otherwise even for a moment was beyond her. Slightly embarrassed, she cleared her throat, then tossed her head. “But since I’m staying on the same floor with the family I’m claiming squatters’ rights.”

  Cole chuckled. “Ah. I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

  “Don’t you dare.” She bumped him with her shoulder. It was a casual gesture, but she felt the electricity all the way down her arm. Good Lord, she hadn’t been without sex that long, had she? “I do really like Rachel and your mom, and Hilda’s great. She’s like everyone’s grandmother. She keeps us so well-fed I might have to go up a size.”

  He ran his gaze down her body, and not in a subtle way. “Mind grabbing that brush,” he said, indicating a shelf of grooming supplies.

  She walked over, conscious that he was probably checking out her ass. Fair enough. She’d already scoped his yesterday. “This one?”

  “Yep.” He turned back to Ginger’s mane, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

  “I thought you were going to leave the grooming for tomorrow.”

  “I want to get out a few of these tangles.”

  “God, I hope the horses won’t be neglected because of the extra work.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” His jaw briefly tightened, but when the roan whickered, Cole relaxed and whispered something soothing, calming her.

  Jamie liked watching him interact with the horse so she stood quietly as he ran the brush through Ginger’s thick mane. She could see the tension leave his shoulders and it was really nice, so quiet but for a few whinnies. After a while she realized she should’ve offered to help. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I’m almost done, but don’t wait around on my account.”

  She bristled at his remark. “You know, I really can be of some use if you let me.”

  “I’m sure you can, but for now you’re on vacation. Go do fun things.”

  A flash of the women’s conversation on the porch made her blink. Here she was, tingling and hot because of her proximity to this cowboy she’d only just met. Was she so different from the other guests, with their hunger so blatant and their desperation clinging to them like scented body spray?

  She hoped so. She hadn’t come to the ranch to get laid, though if Cole was interested she definitely wouldn’t say no. If not, life would go on. “Hanging out with you tomorrow would be fun.”

  He stopped brushing and eyed her with skepticism as he returned the brush to the shelf. Without a word he picked up a bucket and started walking again.

  She caught his arm where he’d rolled back his sleeve, and a muscle flexed beneath her palm. His flesh was warm with a sprinkling of dark hair and she wondered what his chest was like…smooth, a smattering of hair, she didn’t have a preference, as long as he wasn’t too hairy.

  Her eyes were drawn to the unfastened top button of his blue Western-cut shirt. His skin was tanned and smooth, but she couldn’t see enough, not nearly enough to give her a hint at his chest. She’d bet anything he wasn’t overly muscled, just nicely defined. Her attention went back to his corded arm, and heat flared low in her belly.

  Before she made a total fool of herself, she withdrew her hand. She doubted she’d get her way by ripping off his shirt. Some guys, yeah. But not Cole. “Why is that so hard to believe? I don’t want to go white-water rafting tomorrow—I’ve done that before, a couple times. One of these days I would like to go hiking but I’ve also hiked in really cool places like the Himalayas and the Appalachian Trail. I’ve snorkeled in Hawaii and Fiji for a week, scuba-dived in Australia, piloted a houseboat down the Mississippi for a…well, frankly, too long…and piloting might be sugar-coating the experience, because I was really terrible at it.” She shrugged, then noticed he’d narrowed his eyes as if he thought she was telling whoppers. “What?”

  “You’ve really done all those things?”

  She nodded. “It’s kind of my job.”

  “Interesting.” The frown was still there, causing his dark brows to dip. “Let me get rid of this bucket.”

  Disliking the defensiveness welling up inside her, she watched him stow the wooden bucket in a closet. She wasn’t sure what caused the reaction, it wasn’t as if he’d called her a liar, he just seemed surprised. Maybe it was the way he’d said “interesting” that bothered her.

  “I write a travel blog,” she said.

  “Rachel mentioned something about that.”

  “I have quite a few followers, which means I get a lot of hits and sponsors, who pay for advertising. But it also means I have to shake things up, try new experiences, then write about them. Can’t bore the readers.”

  “No, I suppose not.” He turned for a final look at the two rows of stalls. “I don’t imagine tagging along with me will give you anything exciting to write about.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  His suspicious gaze shifted to her.

  “I’m not talking about anything personal, for goodness sakes.”

  “I wasn’t, either.”

  She stepped closer, aware that anyone walking by could see them. “I mean if you wanted to retry that kiss from last night…” She moistened her suddenly dry lips. “It wouldn’t make the blog, or anything.”

  Cole coughed a little. “I would hope not.”

  “Are you referring to the kiss or writing about it?”

  He swung a look toward the house and tugged at his shirt collar. She followed his gaze and realized anyone peering out the front window could see them, or at least him. She was far enough from the opening, but she had a mind to grab him by the shirt and pull him back inside.

  She sighed. “I suppose if I’m totally bored or worried about material for the blog, I could head to town and hit up Marge. I’m sure she’s a wealth of fascinating tidbits.”

  Snorting, he met her eyes. “You blackmailing me?”

  “For a kiss? Nope.” She smiled. “To get you to take me with you tomorrow? You bet.”

  His low husky chuckle danced along her nerve endings, tickled her insides. His eyes changed from milk chocolate to a rich, dark, irresistible temptation. “What’s wrong with hanging out with the other ladies?”

  “They make me crazy.” She purposely whispered, forcing him to move closer in order to hear.

  “What about Trace?”

  “Trace who?”

  His smile was slow, his gaze lazily lowering to her lips. “Those fancy trips you were talking about…you go with anyone?”r />
  “Once upon a time I did, but things have changed and now it’s only me.” Judging from his expression, he’d misunderstood. Probably thought it was about a breakup and this was a rebound trip. “Occasionally either my cousin or one of my two best friends used to go with me. Now they’re all married. The last fatality was a week ago.”

  She saw a flicker of pity in his face, and she looked away, gave a shrug of indifference. “Yep,” she said, her mind scrambling to figure out what she’d said to elicit the reaction. “Linda could’ve been here with me, but she insisted on that trip to the altar instead. Her loss.”

  “What about your family? Where are they?”

  “No brothers or sisters. My parents live in Switzerland. Job-related. Diplomatic service.” She hoped he didn’t ask anything more. Surrounded by a big loving family as he was, he’d never understand her relationship with her parents, and besides, she didn’t like talking about them.

  Somehow she always ended up in a position of trying to defend their choices. Defend her stilted relationship with them. She liked to think she’d made peace with not being put first and that she respected their sense of duty to their country. But if she let down her guard and thought too much…it rarely turned out well.

  He studied her a moment, then moved closer and caught her chin. “I hate unfinished business,” he murmured quietly as he lowered his mouth.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed as his lips brushed hers. Somehow her breath got trapped in her chest. She felt behind her for the wall and pressed her palms against the rough unfinished wood. Shamelessly she let him do all the work, and he took his time, letting them get used to the contours of each other’s mouth before using his tongue to trace her bottom lip, then entering.

  Even though a part of her wanted to hurry him, she loved that he went slow, because slow meant thorough and she was pretty damn sure she’d never been kissed like this before. It was crazy because her response was anything but hesitant. A fever raged inside that shocked her with its lightning-fast intensity.