Want Me, Cowboy

by Sinclair Jayne

  This is happening. It’s really happening.

  She would have pinched herself, but her hands were too busy touching his hot skin. Michelangelo couldn’t have created a better torso on his best day with his David.

  “It’s like a cloud of fire.” He breathed against her mouth, pressing against her further back so her butt hit the hard edge of the table. He lifted her up onto it and stepped between her legs.

  “Yes.” She hissed, pulling off his shirt all the way and tossing it over his shoulder even as she assertively grabbed the buckle on his belt to get to the zip on his jeans.

  “Thanks, but I already got a shirt.”

  Luke swore and spun around blocking her from whoever had come into the trailer.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you too big brother.” He emphasized the word big and laughed.

  Tanner quickly checked her clothes. Mostly together, but her heart was pounding and not in a good way and her cheeks were nine or ten shades of red probably.

  “Ever hear of knocking? Give me my shirt.”

  “I did knock. Twice. And called out and since I’d seen you both come in here, I thought I’d better make sure you were okay. Not needing oxygen or anything.”

  “I locked the door.”

  Shit-eatin’ grin. He dangled a key. “Used to be mine. You wanted me to keep a key in case.”

  “Shirt.”

  “Don’t know, brother. Your girl gave it to me.”

  Tanner winced and waited for Luke to deny the “your girl” comment.

  “Shirt.”

  Tanner poked her head around Luke’s spectacular chest, which was unfortunately disappearing back under his shirt. Tanner sucked in her breath, when six-foot-plus pushed himself off the trailer door and held his hand out for her to shake like this was a social situation. His eyes were like Mercury and definitely brimming with amusement.

  She’d seen him in a lot of IBR ads and in commercials, but none of those began to do him justice and being in such a closed space with two spectacularly, masculinely beautiful specimens hurt her eyes and brain and was devastating to her ego. Tucker would have been thinking twosome. Tanner was thinking escape.

  “Kane Wilder.” He continued to hold out a large, calloused hand, and Tanner shook it automatically, trying to shake off her embarrassment and shock and disappointment, all of which warred for supremacy.

  They were grown adults. She shouldn’t feel like a teen caught out by her dad, but she did.

  “The prettier brother, I heard,” she mumbled.

  Kane smiled wider. “Now that’s just Luke bein’ mean,”

  “What are you doing here, Kane?”

  “Tryin’ to keep mom from simultaneously having a heart attack, stroke, and aneurysm while burning down the town and dragging your sorry, naked butt behind that new hot little red Audi convertible she just bought because you haven’t been taking her calls. And now I know why.”

  Luke flipped his brother off. “Can we do this happy reunion later? Like never,” he muttered.

  “No worries.” Tanner slid off the table. “I gotta get back to work.”

  “So that’s what you call takin’ a break,” Kane drawled. “Now I know why you like the rodeo circuit, big brother. Much friendlier.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Kane,” Luke said, more tersely than she’d heard him speak before.

  He turned back toward her, his hands covering her ears as if he could help her to unhear Kane’s teasing. “Sorry,” he said softly, his lips brushing hers, and her toes curled at the sensation and warmth in his voice and gaze. He still hadn’t buttoned his shirt and her eyes ping-ponged between his heated, honey gaze and beautiful, tanned, sculpted chest that begged to be touched.

  “I’ll see you later.” Luke spoke low in her ear, his body never breaking contact.

  She tried to stop the rush of pleasure, of happiness that he still wanted to see her and that he wasn’t playing it cool in front of his brother, and utterly failed. She felt giddy, and her body still hummed as if it hadn’t gotten the email that the physical touch was over for now.

  “Sure,” she said, suddenly shy with Kane watching them, his dark hair was longish, past his jaw line and his eyes were a disarming, light blue, almost silver-grey, and she felt like he could see all the way through her. He looked friendly and amused, but there was a coiled tension in him that belied the charm. Tanner was too much around animals not to be able to read the dominant ones that could get dangerous quickly.

  “Later,” she said as breezily as she could as if she got caught stripping men she’d technically known less than twenty-four hours all the time.

  No. That would be Tucker.

  Tanner managed to somehow unglue herself from Luke, who swung open the door and walked down the two stairs to the grass. She had the impulse to kiss him again, but there were too many people around, many whom she’d known growing up, plus she could see his brother, definitely hot and gorgeous and laughing at the situation, lounging against the same table she’d been aiming to use as the launch pad to vanquish her sexual drought.

  Luke seemed to read her mood because he leaned forward to kiss her then hesitated. Instead his hands gently framed her face and then touched her hair so reverently.

  “Your hair is beautiful,” he said. “It glows.”

  She batted his hand away. She’d forgotten it was down. It was elevated around her face like an embarrassed and very off course halo.

  “I love it,” he said, giving her the elastic back that he’d put around his wrist. “Wear it down Saturday night.”

  “Are you nuts?” She demanded.

  “Please.”

  That undid her.

  “You free later? For the barbeque this afternoon or tonight? I saw a flyer in that Big Z’s Hardware store yesterday about it.”

  She hesitated a second.

  “Please.”

  “But your brother.”

  “Can find his own date.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She can definitely find her own date.”

  Tanner laughed, knowing he was trying to make light of an awkward situation. She did feel a little lighter inside and walked away backwards, finding it hard to say goodbye. She kissed her fingers and waved to him before spinning around and walking away fast, willing him to look away. To not notice her limp, not worry about her, not speculate on her limitations and to not treat her differently.

  *

  Luke jogged back up the steps.

  Kane leaned against the table, grin wide. “All the shit you’ve flipped me about my behavior over the years.”

  “Why are you really here?” Luke demanded, arms crossed, not that surprised Kane had shown up, since Luke had been dodging his mom’s increasingly short and irritated phone calls, but he still would have appreciated some warning. Make that a lot of warning.

  “Red, huh?” Kane ignored the question and picked up Tanner’s hat from the counter and spun it around on his finger. “Little slow off the mark, brother. All you got off was her hat, and she had you half undressed and was reaching for the goods. I definitely could have timed it better. Given the girl another minute. Could have gotten an awful pretty picture.” He held up his cell phone. “Maybe could have started my retirement account with a few naked shots of you.”

  Luke didn’t take the bait.

  “Damn, you still have no sense of humor. Not like you haven’t walked in on me.”

  “Your door was open,” Luke said coolly, mentally trying to unsee the image of his then sixteen-year-old naked brother in full sexual-conqueror mode with a college girl several years older. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “True.” Again Kane grinned. “Thought you said you were done with red. Couldn’t resist working your way through the family tree?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Kane laughed. “Right, Romeo.”

  He looked at Luke, his grey gaze questioning.
“You don’t know?” he finally asked. “Damn, Luke. You really need to ask more questions.”

  Chapter Eight

  “About?”

  “Like what the T stands for.”

  “Cut the cryptic crap.”

  “Tucker T.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. That was almost five years, and yeah he’d been hurt and embarrassed and so stupid at the time. Definitely not a shining moment, but Kane usually stuck to more current barbs. Kane lived to taunt him, like he knew more than everybody else. Probably did, too. It had killed their mother when Kane hadn’t gone to college. He could have. Kane’s father, who’d done everything he could to forget Kane existed had been thrilled to fund his education when he’d seen Kane’s academic load and GPA. Kane was ridiculously smart but, instead, he’d graduated early and headed out to a rodeo school in California run by a former three-time, bull-riding champion who taught yoga, meditation, Zen and other touchy feeling shit Luke had never had time for.

  But the name Tucker T was a low punch in the gut even for Kane.

  “Way in the past, Kane,” he said flatly.

  “You never asked her why Tucker T?”

  “Some alliterative performing name. Fake like everything else,” he said, trying to shrug it off, but instead a deep dread took hold as he saw Kane counting off seconds on his fingers like he’d always done when Luke had been slower on the uptake about everything than he had been.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  “Tucker McTavish. Triple T Ranch. Montana born and bred. One half of the McT twins, barrel racers and rodeo darlings in their early teens.

  Luke stared, speechless at his brother, forgetting even to breathe.

  “Twin sister to Tanner McTavish. Geneticist and former star barrel racer. Took a crippling fall at fifteen. Four months in a Seattle hospital far from home and family and never competed again. Ring a bell.”

  Oh, hell no. No. No. No. Impossible even with his shitty luck this weekend in this town.

  Kane, who always did his research, and could quote the stats of every bull rider on the US Tour as well as Australia, Mexico, and Canada like he was some kind of savant, laughed at Luke’s obvious horror and became a mind reader as well.

  “Ah, hell yes,” he said.

  Luke’s mind went blank. His body turned to stone. He couldn’t even dredge up the fiercest, most heartfelt curse of all.

  He leaned back and let his head hit the cupboards above his stove once, twice, three times. What karmatic god had he pissed off to deserve this weekend? It hadn’t even officially hit the weekend, or the rodeo and he couldn’t tangle with gravity to bottom out any lower.

  “Hey, now, you may need a few of those brain cells left to apologize.”

  How the hell could he apologize for that? He’d slept with Tanner’s twin over the course of a few rodeos, and there hadn’t been much sleeping involved. He hit his head again, eyes closed as if he could shut out the image of Tucker, all curves, siren smile, auburn hair curling down her back, sparkling, emerald eyes promising heaven, reeling him in like a prize marlin over and over. Until she cut him loose to snag another cowboy after a few weeks of Luke following her around dazed and thinking himself in love. And then she’d cut that poor bastard loose for another. She’d laughed at Luke and shrugged off his attempt to discuss their relationship.

  He could still hear her musical voice low with a husky note, see the astonishment in her eyes, the disdain on her beautiful, bow shaped candy red lips. “What relationship? It was sex Luke. Just sex. Better than most I must admit, but still just sex. Grow up. Men do it all the time. Thought you were a big boy but you’re acting like a big baby whose toy was taken away. I’m not your toy. I’m not yours. I’m my own person.”

  Still burned him how he’d read her so wrong. He’d been totally infatuated. He hadn’t listened to anyone when they’d tried to warn him, but he was new to the California circuit. And he’d left mid-season because he couldn’t stand watching her hook up with different men each weekend. He’d felt like such a stupid idiot. He’d just turned twenty-three and thought he definitely should have known better.

  He’d joined the Mountain Rodeo Circuit and found a job at a bull-breeding ranch in Colorado and tried to put the whole moment of madness behind him. He’d been caught up in the fairy tale that his mom used to tell him about. How, when she’d seen his dad, it had been magic. She’d known he was her soul mate, her true and only love. It had seemed like love the first time he’d seen Tucker T take a practice run, jump off her horse, and shoot him the most smokin’ hot, sexual appraisal he’d ever been exposed to and ten minutes later he’d been in his trailer thinking about making himself a sandwich when she’d shown up with a bottle of champagne and wearing ripped jeans that barely qualified as clothing and leather lingerie. He hadn’t been into the champagne but he’d definitely appreciated the other.

  Love. How stupid he’d been. He’d been as blind as his mother. Luke banged his head back again.

  “Climb off your guilt horse,” Kane said. “From what mom said, you’re banged up enough from the bar fight, which I’m totally pissed I missed. Besides, you didn’t even know Tanner then.” Kane shrugged it off. “You thinking of signing her to a stock contract for the tour? Which tier? Anything I might be interested in? She got some bulls at Copper Mountain Rodeo we can check out?” Kane had gone from teasing to professional in a blink.

  Bulls? How could his brother think about bulls at a time like this, the self-absorbed prick? Every shy look of uncertainty he’d seen chase across Tanner’s face when the topic of her twin came up lanced through him like a hot poker. No wonder she thought a man wouldn’t be sexually interested in her, growing up with that breath-stealing, beautiful, calculated sex-on-a-stick man collector.

  He groaned and banged his head again.

  He had to tell Tanner. Had to before he took it any further, not that there’d be a further after the revelation, which would be for the best, so why did disappointment settle over him like an early snow? Luke hadn’t been involved in the stock business long, but he knew a deal-breaker when he saw one.

  Kane slapped his back. “Get over the mea culpa. This isn’t your usual circuit and Tucker’s in California so, yee haw, ride ’em, cowboy. No need to go all confessional prematurely so avoid the hassle and just have a good time. Not like you’re setting up your rig in Marietta permanently. Now let’s go check out the stock.” Kane rubbed his hands together in anticipation and Luke swallowed the urge to puke.

  The fact he was bothered he was going to lose a chance with Tanner sucked, but what was worse was how much it burned. He tried to tell himself that feeling something for her was bad news, and he should be relieved to shut any of that shit down, but he wasn’t listening to his so-called wiser self, which should not have been sleeping earlier when he’d invited her back to his trailer.

  He liked Tanner. He was attracted to her, but it wasn’t just sexual. It was… hell. He had to stop thinking this way. He had to get on the back of a bull in twenty-four hours, and he could not have his mind on Tanner or his dumb ass, naïve infatuation with her sister five years ago. Or his maybe brother. Or his mom. Or anything else but the ride.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Kane demanded. He was already down one step on the trailer and still eye level with Luke. “You still strung up with Tucker?”

  “Hell, no.” Luke had no hesitation on that front. None.

  No he was strung up, in the words of his brother, on Tanner. He’d been a punk with Tucker. He was a man now, and he could tell the difference between lust and feelings, and he didn’t think Tanner was going to be an easy chord to cut. But cut it he must, because long-term relationships were out, and a relationship with a woman who lived and breathed Marietta had mega-disaster stamped all over it.

  *

  Tanner was measuring out feed when Jorge drove up with her father. It took him several minutes to get out of the truck. Tanner pretended not to notice and Jorge pretended he had an email on his
phone to read while Bruce McTavish coordinated his four limbs and pushed himself out of the truck. He left his cane in the cab. Tanner’s lips tightened.

  Her dad tried to pretend the accident hadn’t happened. He tried to pretend he hadn’t had compression fractures in his chest, broken legs as well a closed head injury that had left him in a coma for almost a month.

  “Feels good to be back,” he said, each word deliberately spoken thanks to over a year of speech therapy that had left the ranch in debt and struggling.

  But the Triple T was back. All her fierce dedication and pushing of her father to complete his therapy both physical, speech, and language processing had paid off. She looked up.

  “Yes,” she said. “It is, Dad.”

  “You heard from your sister?”

  “Tucker?”

  “You got another?”

  She resisted the urge to say “thank God, no.” Her dad adored Tucker. She’d always been his favorite. Always. She looked like their mother, who, even though she’d left their family when she and her sister hadn’t yet turned twelve, still held a piece of Bruce McTavish’s heart.

  “I wanted her to come home this weekend,” He said after a long silence.

  Tanner nearly dropped the bag of enriched blend of oats and grain. That was all she needed—Tucker. Tanner loved her sister. She admired her confidence. Her drive. Her focus to go after everything she wanted and then some. She admired her career, her sense of fun and daring, but next to Tucker she just… Tanner cut off the unproductive, but true, thought. She’d never had a date in high school because boys had only wanted Tucker. The friendships she would develop she’d soon learned were all about getting closer to Tucker. And when they’d been competing in teen barrel racing events, she’d won most of the events, but Tucker had received all the attention.

  She hadn’t been trying to be mean. She was just crazy charismatic, and she’d shrug off the latest boy or man defection and tell Tanner. “He’s no prize if he tosses you at the first barrel. I’m saving you time and heartache.”