To Love Her Cowboys

by Laura Sutton

  God she was attracted to him, too! How could the two sexiest men in Texas, if not the world, be working on the same ranch? The ranch she had moved to in order to avoid all distractions. How could she be attracted to both of them? She felt the same light-headed buzz looking at Dean that she did when she looked at Jason.

  As he approached the low fence of the corral, his smile widened, his warm light brown eyes welcoming. Two perfect men. She wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse.

  Dean

  As Dean approached Jason and the woman he assumed was their new temporary tenant, he could tell by the look on Jason’s face that he was very interested in her, and the look in his eyes told Dean he would also be interested. Sharing a woman was something they had done in the past, on a few trips to New Orleans, and one very hot weekend in Vegas a couple of years ago, but never a woman that was in such close proximity to where they lived and worked. Dean wasn’t sure taking up with a woman who would live two hundred yards from them for four months was a good idea, no matter how excited Jason seemed by the prospect.

  Jason had been Dean’s best friend for over ten years. They met serving together in Afghanistan, and the bond they formed was very strong. When Dean left the Army to take over the ranch from his grandfather, Jason was soon to follow.

  Jason knew nothing about living and working on a ranch, growing up a rich boy from a powerful family in New Orleans, but he didn’t let that stop him. He learned, and over the last five years, the two of them had made the Mariposa not just a profitable ranch but a flourishing one. His grandfather, in his later years, had let things slide. It was understandable, but they were problems Dean had to fix. The ranch had been in his family for over one hundred years, and he refused to be the Whitfield that failed the ranch and their legacy.

  “Hello!” Dean called as he finally got close enough to them, and he could see instantly what was drawing Jason. Underneath all those ill-fitting clothes was a real woman. He was sure that if he stripped her naked, he would find full, heavy breasts under that clunky sweater, followed by a soft, slightly rounded belly and thighs just plump enough to cradle his hips perfectly as he moved his cock in and out of her body.

  He took a deep breath to bring his arousal under control, but Jason’s grin quickly turned into a leer, and if he knew his friend, he knew the way his thoughts were going.

  “Hi,” the girl returned, a sweet smile on her wholesomely pretty face. Her eyes were the deepest blue Dean had ever seen, wide and expressive. She had a pert little nose and a full Cupid’s-bow mouth. She wore no makeup, refreshing in an age of heavily overdone Insta-models, and her skin was a beautiful pale porcelain. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink either from the warmth or maybe some arousal. Dean was the hopeful kind of guy. Even if it was a terrible idea to bed this pretty, mousy, luscious woman in front of him, he liked the thought that maybe she was attracted to him or Jason. Hopefully both of them.

  He took her outstretched hand for a shake, and he felt heat and something close to electricity as he took her soft hand in his rougher one. He was hard just from touching her hand! It had obviously been too long since he had a woman if an innocent handshake made his body stand at attention.

  “Hi, I’m Dean, and you must be Gwyneth?” he asked with a smile, noting that she blushed an even deeper red at the touch of their hands, and his male pride swelled at the thought. She looked so innocent and sexy all at once.

  “Yes, but please call me Gwynn. Only my mother calls me Gwyneth, and trust me, you don’t want to be in the same category as her.” She laughed nervously and released his hand. Dean let go as well, though he loathed to do so.

  “Okay, Gwynn.” He smiled at her. “Well, welcome to the Mariposa. I’m the owner, and this guy here, who you’ve seemed to have met,” he gestured to his friend, “is Jason. He handles the animal and range management.”

  The confused look on her face was adorable. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as if she was trying to solve a difficult puzzle. This woman piqued his interest like no other had in a long time.

  “Hahahaha!” Jason’s laugh forced Dean’s attention away from Gwynn, and Dean almost snarled at him in response.

  “All those fancy words mean is that I keep up with the fitness and the count of the heard and make sure they have enough grass to graze on without destroying the grasses, because if you let the cows eat too much in a pasture, then next year there won't be any grass for them to eat. It’s a delicate balance,” Jason explained to Gwynn, and when she turned to give Jason her full attention, Dean continued to study her profile.

  She had a delicate, lovely neck. He could imagine Jason behind her, kissing her there, while he was in front of her, kissing her mouth with his hands on her breasts.

  Jason had stopped talking at some point, and now both of them were looking at Jason’s expression, a teasing and knowing one.

  “Well, ma’am,” he said as he turned to Gwynn, giving her his best smile and exaggerating his West Texas drawl, “can we help you move your things into your new place? Then maybe you’ll join us for dinner? Jason is a decent cook, meaning it’s mostly edible, whereas my cooking is never edible.” He tipped his hat and climbed the fence of the corral and hopped down beside her. He moved his hand to the small of her back to guide her to the main house where her little SUV was parked.

  He glanced at Jason, who looked a little jealous that Dean had figured out a way to let his touch on Gwynn linger, and he just smirked in response to his friend. If you snooze you lose, Dean thought, and he would go out of his way to touch this delicious woman as much as she would allow.

  Gwynn

  Dean’s touch on her back was disconcerting in the best possible way. He seemed to want to prolong the touch, and this made Gwynn’s head spin. Never had such a handsome man given her this much attention, and she felt a bit adrift because of it. She didn’t know how to be coy or flirtatious, or how to lure a man to her with just her charms. She had never felt a loss at her lack of feminine wiles until this moment.

  She wasn’t sure how to lead a conversation with a handsome man. She couldn’t even look him in the eye, for goodness' sake! Just looking at his handsome face and his warm brown eyes made her blush all over, and his hand on the small of her back, no matter how light the touch, was making her hot and wet in parts that hadn’t been hot or wet in an embarrassingly long time. She was a twenty-five-year-old virgin, untouched and unpracticed, and surely this handsome man wouldn’t want to touch her. He probably had far thinner and more beautiful women just waiting to take his call.

  “So, what made you want to rent from us out here in the middle of nowhere? You're not hiding from the law, are you?” Dean asked from his position next to her. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize the conversation had stopped.

  “No-no, ahem.” She had to clear her throat to get rid of the tremor of nervousness.

  She turned and smiled at him, hoping her smile was bright and not as shaky as she felt it was.

  “No, I’m not a criminal of any kind. I even pay my parking tickets. I’m a writer, and I’m hoping to use these months to really work on my masterpiece,” she added a little more confidently. Talking about writing always made her feel good, more like herself.

  “Yeah, Dean… Gwynn told me she will be working on an epic fantasy series. We are hosting the next Tolkien or George R.R. Martin.” Jason joined the conversation from her other side. While Jason wasn’t touching her, he was close enough that she could feel his body heat and smell him. She was sandwiched by two handsome men, and her mind had gone to mush. She could almost imagine both of them touching and kissing her. Did she pack her vibrator? It mostly sat unused in her bedside drawer, but she had a feeling she would need it, and often, while she lived in such proximity to these two men.

  “Ohhh, a writer!” Dean let out a low whistle.

  “I’m a simple guy, really. A good book and a beer and I’m happy, though I’ve never met anyone who wrote before. Have you publishe
d before?” Dean asked her, and it touched her that his interest seemed genuine. No one in her life ever seemed very interested in what she did aside from her ex-stepfather, but they only conversed via sporadic emails these days. Her mother just wanted her to quit her “little hobby,” as she said, and find a husband. Sometimes she felt her mother was some kind of 1950s throwback and refused to accept that women had careers of their own and didn’t need men.

  “Well, I’m a published author in that I get paid for the blogs and articles I write, but I have yet to publish a novel,” she told him, trying to meet his gaze. His eyes made her feel like she had a fever. She would have to stay away from Dean—and Jason, because looking at him was just as difficult.

  “I’m hoping if I spend most of my days writing, I can be completely done with my first book while I’m staying here and have it ready for editing and maybe even start the second.” It was freeing to talk about her books, her ideas, and not feel judged. These two men didn’t know her, but they seemed open and welcoming, a far cry from what she felt when she talked to others in her life, namely her mother.

  “How many books do you think your series will be? Have you gotten that far in the planning process?” Jason asked, smiling his easygoing smile, and she couldn’t help but return it.

  “Ummm.” Gwynn chewed on her lower lip, a habit when she was working through a problem in her brain. She had plotted the first three books, but she knew her characters wouldn’t be done after three. Maybe four, but more likely five, and she told him as much.

  “I think five books, though I only have the first three fully plotted. I’m trying not to get bogged down, which is something that can happen easily when you’re creating worlds and characters.” She ducked her head and broke her gaze from Jason’s, his smile and bright green eyes drawing her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her feet as they continued to walk to her car. She could see it just a few yards in front of them. It looked like an oasis, because her nerves could not take much more of these men or their attention much longer. She felt shy and nervous, though she hoped she was doing a good job hiding it from them.

  “Well,” Jason drawled and squeezed her shoulder gently. His touch coupled with Dean’s hand still at her back made her stumble a bit, tripping over her own two feet.

  “Whoa there!” Jason murmured and grabbed her arm gently but forceful, steadying her.

  “We will have to get you some cowboy boots, sweetheart. Those little flats are cute and all, but they will hardly protect your feet out here.” He teased her good-naturedly, and she tried to smile but couldn’t. She was embarrassed. She had once again been clumsy and inelegant in front of not one but two nice, handsome men.

  “Hey now, look at me,” he said and lifted her face to look at his with a finger under her chin.

  “It's just a little stumble. Blame Dean for not making sure the path was even.” He winked and grinned at her. All at once, Gwynn felt both at ease and nervous. Jason had soothed her nervousness, but the way he looked at her made her feel like he was a hungry lion, and she was a lamb that was to be his prey. What was worse, she thought, was that she just might enjoy being the lamb, ready to be slaughtered by this handsome lion.

  “Okay,” she whispered and smiled. She then turned to Dean, who looked at her with concern.

  “You should really make sure your path from the corral to your house is smooth. You wouldn’t want any other ladies falling and hurting themselves,” she told Dean, trying to flirt, and his eyes danced with barely contained mirth at her lame teasing.

  He tipped his cowboy hat. “Yes, ma’am. I will get on that right away,” he replied in an exaggerated accent. He then offered her his arm like a gentleman from a century long passed. “Shall we?” he asked.

  She beamed. There was something about these two. They were sexy and sweet, and she was thrilled she would be in their world for the next few months, if only to observe their hotness and rugged but sweet manners to immortalize in fiction later.

  “We shall,” she responded, and they continued on the path to her car, where they were greeted by a very grumpy feline who was obviously not as impressed with Jason and Dean as Gwynn was.

  Jason

  Jason shared a knowing glance with Dean as they both watched Gwynn lean into her car and remove the angriest cat Jason had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

  “Meooow!” The cat let them know how much it did not enjoy being left in the car.

  “Someone is mad at the world.” Jason laughed and took the large carrying case from Gwynn. “Hello, pretty kitty,” he purred, staring into the green eyes of an enormous, very fluffy tan cat.

  “That’s Griselda. She’s usually much nicer,” Gwynn said, peering down at the cat as she hissed her displeasure at Jason.

  “Oh, don’t blame the cat; blame Jason. He’s like that with all girls,” Dean shouted from the back of the tiny SUV, pulling one of Gwynn’s suitcases free.

  “Har har har,” Jason shot back to his best friend. He then turned and winked at Gwynn, delighting in the light blush that bloomed on her cheeks. She was too delectable for words. All innocence and wide eyes, until you got her talking about her writing. Then she practically vibrated with passion. It made Jason wonder how passionate she might be in bed.

  He was struck by an image of Gwynn’s perfect mouth wrapped around his cock while Dean pounded into her from behind. He was instantaneously hard at the image and cleared his throat, slyly holding the cat carrier to hide it.

  Dean noticed his predicament and laughed at him. Jason scowled in response.

  “Here, let me take her,” Gwynn told him, reaching for the cat.

  “Now, Ms. Gwynn,” he began in the heaviest New Orleans drawl he could muster. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you carry anything bigger than a tote bag to your house? A terrible one. Let Dean and I help you. If there is one thing we are good at, it’s manual labor.”

  He gave her his best smile and then took the smaller of the suitcases and the cat carrier, leaving Dean with the largest suitcases and Gwynn with only the tiny little tote bag to carry.

  “Thank you,” Gwynn whispered, visibly embarrassed by the attention he and Dean were lavishing upon her, and Jason loved it. He wanted to know this woman, to learn what made her tick, what made her smile, and then give her the world. It was a relief to know Dean felt the same way.

  They hadn’t spoken yet, but he and Dean had silent communication down to a science by now. They're almost-ten-year friendship that started in a sandpit during wartime had created a deep bond.

  “The carriage house is just behind the big house. Unfortunately, you must leave your car parked here till Tuesday. They are laying concrete down, and it’s just an open space right now,” Dean explained as the three of them—four, including the cat—followed the sidewalk that went around the big house and led to the carriage house.

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Gwynn said. “I won’t be leaving much except to go to the store and stuff. I plan on writing the whole time.”

  Jason smiled at her words. She seemed to light up when she talked about her writing. It made him want to know more.

  “What made you want to be a writer?” he asked. Gwynn then took her eyes off Dean and smiled widely at Jason, and it was like the sun emerging from behind the clouds after three days of rain. He wanted to make her smile like that always.

  Always?! The thought scared him. He hadn’t even known this woman two hours yet, but it was like his very soul yearned for her.

  “My mother’s third husband is a publisher for a big publishing house in New York, but when I was little and when he was married to my mom, he worked for a smaller one. He was her anomaly husband, I like to say. He was handsome, but not very rich, and Mama only married for money. ‘You can fall in love with a rich man just as easily as a poor one, so aim high,’ she would say. Except for that one time. But I think she was trying to find me a father, and he was more her age than the others.”

  Gwynn
nervously hitched the tote bag higher onto her shoulder, her thoughts obviously uncomfortable for her.

  “So, he inspired you to write?” Dean prompted from her right. Jason knew he was trying to pull her out of the thoughts that had brought her down.

  “Well, yes and no. I’ve always loved reading, and I started writing about worlds I would dream about even when I was small. Planets with purple trees and pink clouds run by unicorns. And David, my stepfather, found them one day. I thought he would laugh, like my mother did, and tell me to find something better to do. Instead, he asked me if my story was finished, and when I told him it was, he asked if he could borrow it and read it, that he liked it. When I told him yes, he took it and had it printed professionally with a real book cover and gave me my finished copy for my ninth birthday. It was the best present ever.”