Cowboy Summer

by Joanne Kennedy

  “Or dance.” He took her paintbrush. “Especially not on a ladder, balancing a full can of paint.”

  He set the paint can and brush on the drop cloth she’d spread over the floor. “This looks nice.” He gestured toward the one finished wall. “Sure beats that ugly wallpaper.”

  “I spent all night tearing that stuff off. Lucky it was just some temporary stick-on crap Mom bought online. What do you think of the color?”

  “I like it.”

  “It’s called Unicorn. I’m painting over all my bad memories, most of which involve my mother.” She waved toward the sheet-draped furniture. “Maybe you could help me carry all that crap out to the barn.”

  “What are you going to put in here?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll leave it empty. Let the Rhinestone Cowboy and his pretty, pretty princess decide.”

  “Oh no. They made an offer?”

  Pressing her lips into a thin line, she nodded.

  “Damn.” That was bad news, but at least she hadn’t said her bad memories involved him. They’d left things on a sour note the other day, but she seemed to be in a good mood now. Maybe he could turn things around.

  You never give up, do you?

  Shut up, Dad.

  “Need help?” Picking up a Boone’s Hardware bag, he found a second paint roller and tray. “I wouldn’t mind erasing this room myself. Your mom used to call me in here while you were upstairs getting ready so she could tell me I didn’t deserve you.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Now you do.” He grabbed the paint can and poured a thick, smooth runnel of Unicorn into the pan, then slid a cover on the roller. “There’s a lot of the past I don’t want to erase, though. Like…well, a lot of things.”

  He’d been about to mention their recent roll in the hay but thought better of it.

  “Heck and Molly got off okay?”

  “Uh-huh. They’re in a rush to find a place now. Apparently, the Swammetts are in a hurry.”

  “Shoot. I’m going to have to move.”

  She barked out a mirthless laugh. “Molly said the Dude wants you to run the place and teach his wife to ride.”

  “Not happening.”

  They finished two walls before Cade started to get restless. Covering up bad memories was fine—but he’d rather create some good ones.

  * * *

  Jess felt something poke her between her shoulder blades and whirled to see Cade with his roller held high.

  “That shirt just needed something.”

  “You!” She fought back, slashing a wide, cream-colored streak across the front of his shirt.

  A paint fight was the kind of thing they’d done when they were kids—silly, fun, and competitive. Neither of them liked to lose, so what might have been harmless fun always turned into a high-stakes battle as they became desperate pirates on a gangplank, fighting above a shark-infested sea.

  Jess was quick, but Cade was more aggressive, so she wasn’t surprised when he accidentally poked her in the cheek with the end of the roller. She wasn’t hurt, just breathless and flushed, but he reached for her, cupping the back of her head, and oh, he was so close, gazing at her with such grave concern. Her mind swam, her body yearned, and as usual, her brain shorted out.

  Everybody says you could do just about anything, and he’d never quit.

  Riley had been right about that. So how could Jess resist? Why would she resist?

  She couldn’t remember what they’d been fighting about. Probably something stupid. Because what could possibly matter more than this, them, together, now?

  His eyes went soft, and just like that, love flowed over her like a wave, filling her heart, swamping her mind, and drowning all her anger. The barriers she’d erected buckled under a tsunami of emotion as he bent his head and paused, his lips inches from hers, a question in those eyes.

  Closing the distance, she said yes.

  Midkiss, he swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the parlor while she stripped off her oversized shirt and tossed it aside. In the front hall, he set her down, and she pulled his paint-splashed T-shirt over his head, tossing it out the open door. It caught a breeze and drifted down to the tumbled chaos of the wrecked porch and lay there like a white flag of surrender as he hoisted her to his chest, slammed the door with his foot, and carried her, like a Wild West Scarlett O’Hara, up the stairs.

  Chapter 42

  Rhett Butler had it easy. Scarlett’s staircase had been a wide, sweeping affair, while the staircase at the Diamond Jack was so narrow, Jess’s feet kept banging against the wall. To make matters worse, Boogy was following much too close. Cade managed to avoid tripping over the dog or bashing Jess’s head on the railing, but just barely. He was panting harder than the dog when they reached the top.

  He’d planned to gentle Jess the way he’d gentle a difficult horse, with sensible choices, careful deliberation, and a cautious eye on her mood. He’d told himself she had to make the decision to give in on her own. It didn’t matter that his body ached for her every minute of the day or that his heart had barely recovered from their last breakup. What mattered was creating a bond, the bond, that would last.

  Unfortunately, he felt like he’d just carried a horse upstairs. There wasn’t much room on the landing, and somehow his body wound up pressing hers against the wall.

  She sure didn’t feel like a horse.

  She scanned him with sparkling eyes, her body writhing against his in a struggle that could have been mistaken for refusal if her fingers hadn’t been working on his belt while her breath came fast and hard.

  “Bedroom,” she muttered.

  He thought of her lacy canopy bed and pale pink walls, and a jolt of heat surged from his mind to his heart and then to some far less appropriate organs. He and Jess had found all sorts of secret hookup spots in their teens—the hayloft, the treehouse, the line shack in the north pasture. Pretty much any shady sheltered spot had worked, as long as it was far from prying eyes.

  But once or twice, they’d found themselves alone at the ranch, and Cade was almost ashamed of the way he’d taken advantage of those opportunities. It was in Jess’s bedroom they’d made the shift from friends to lovers, and he wanted to relive that, over and over, for the rest of the day, the week, the month, the year. For the rest of their lives, if she’d let him.

  Taking her hand, he pulled her through the door while the dog watched mournfully from the top of the steps. Jess only pretended to resist; when they reached the bedroom, she fell back onto the bed, bouncing among the frilly pillows. Why did women always have so dang many pillows?

  Maybe because they knew they looked sexy draped over a heap of puffy lace. Jess wore nothing but a silky tank top now, and it fit her lithe body like a second skin. He could have stared at her forever, memorizing the casual toss of her limbs, the careless curl of her fingers, and the tumble of her crazy curls fanning over a pale-pink pillow. Indulging themselves in this bed was like making love on top of a strawberry Frappuccino with extra whipped cream.

  “I was thinking we’d stay friends for a while,” she said, eyes closed, lips barely moving.

  “We’ve always been friends.” Settling beside her, he traced a finger across her forehead, then let it trail down the side of her face. “Now we’ll be really, really close friends again.”

  Letting his finger wander to her lips, he traced the seam of them and shivered when the pink tip of her tongue flicked out and licked them.

  “No promises, okay?” She propped herself up on her elbows, looking much too serious. “Everything’s too complicated, because…”

  He set his finger on her lips. “No promises, no demands. You’re in charge, okay?”

  “Seriously?” Her eyes flashed with a devilish spark from under almost-shuttered lashes. “I’m driving this trip?”

  “Yep.” His
finger drifted down to trace her collarbones, the delicate dip between the light-boned wings.

  She reached up and cupped the back of his neck. “I like to drive fast.”

  As she pulled his head down to her and set her lips to his, he realized pink frilly canopy beds probably ought to come with seat belts.

  * * *

  Jess paused in the middle of a passionate kiss and looked at Cade, really looked at him. He was all rumpled, sexy hair, eyes filled with love so strong, it warmed her down to the bone, and a lean and muscled body ready for action. There was something bothering her, some reason she shouldn’t give herself entirely to him right now, but darned if she could remember what it was. “Where are we going, Jess?” he whispered.

  “I think you know.” She smiled up at him. “We’ve been there before, but I’m thinking we need to find a shortcut.”

  Cade didn’t seem to be looking for a shortcut, though the man could move from zero to sixty in half a heartbeat. She felt his body tighten with desire, muscles growing rock-hard under her fingers. The angles of his face seemed to alter in some subtle way, making his deep-set eyes look deeper and intensifying the heat of that broken-crystal gaze. It carried her way beyond wanting him; they were in needing territory now.

  Skimming her hands over his bare chest, she felt the cool air from an open window stroke her own skin. He’d pulled down the straps of her camisole, and it hung dangerously low. If she hadn’t been so aroused, the filmy shirt would have slipped right down her body, but the peaks of her nipples held it up and kept her decent—if you could call anything decent that made her desire so clear.

  With a quick tug, he stripped it to her waist and lowered his head to her breast. She wasn’t sure what exactly happened after that. There was a pull at her breasts, a tug deep inside her, a struggle with his belt and jeans, another struggle with her own, and then the two of them were rolling, gloriously naked, on her bed.

  They’d had their first time in this room. They’d started in the truck but had to cut their make-out session short for her curfew. When they’d gotten home, they’d discovered Heck had gone to Cheyenne for a cattleman’s meeting, so they’d had the house—and her pink poofy bed—to themselves.

  “Do you remember?” she whispered. They’d been so in love that day, with feelings that were pure and uncomplicated. “It was so easy then.”

  “It’s still easy. I’ll show you.”

  And he did.

  He touched her like he had all those years ago, when they’d been so unsure of what was right, of what would work. From there, he took her steadily forward through the years, reviewing every phase of their relationship and reminding her, with desperate, rushed touches and sweet, slow interludes, that the lifetime they’d spent together hadn’t always been smooth. There’d been doubts and pain, but they’d always found solace in each other.

  The boundaries between them always disappeared when they made love. He was hers, and she was his. Together, they were stronger than they’d ever been apart. And when he slid inside her, she felt his joy in her own heart, and they cried out in one voice.

  It had always felt good, but this time, it felt momentous. In spite of saying she could drive, he’d gently taken the wheel and led her to a place so warm and right, she wondered why she’d ever left it.

  They stayed there until the breeze from the window softened and stilled. Twilight dropped a dark curtain over the plains, and in the hush of the country night, she lost her sense of time and all her doubts. Cade had carried her up to the stars and back and set her, sated, on solid ground. It was always solid at his side. She could count on that.

  Right then, right there, she knew, despite the doubts that prodded the back of her mind, she was right where she belonged.

  Chapter 43

  Jess’s head fit neatly in the hollow of Cade’s shoulder. Resting there, she savored the velvety peace of the night. A soft breeze wafted over her body, echoing the sound of Cade’s slow breathing beside her.

  The last hour had cleared her mind of all her fears. In the light of their lovemaking, everything else seemed small and insignificant. It was as if her life was a stew that had simmered for hours until only its essence remained, only what mattered—and what mattered was Cade.

  Because he was Cade. He loved her. They just needed to have a talk about what mattered to her—not her own goals, but her goals for her father. He needed to understand the roles had shifted, and she was taking care of her dad now. He’d see the truth then and realize she wasn’t the one playing those pranks.

  He stirred, opened one eye, and smiled.

  “We probably ought to get cleaned up,” he said. “Your folks are coming home tonight, right?”

  “Maybe. They weren’t sure how long they’d stay. Depends how much they like it, I guess.” Absently stroking his hair, she let the real world flow back into her mind, a little at a time. There were horses to feed, chores to be done, a meal to be made, but she didn’t want to move.

  Sitting up, she twisted her hair in one hand and glanced at the mirror. There was a streak of Unicorn decorating her cheek. She laughed.

  “Guess you’re right. Cleanup time.” She jumped to her feet. “Let’s use Mom’s crazy bathroom.”

  Cade threw on what clothes he could find and stepped into his boots, but Jess didn’t bother to get dressed. Giggling wildly, they stepped over the sleeping Boogy, scampered down the stairs, and tiptoed, for some reason, through Heck and Molly’s main-floor master bedroom to the fancy en suite bath Dot Bailey had simply had to have.

  “Man.” Cade gaped at the floors, the ceiling, the walls. “This is really, um, something.”

  Like Dot Bailey herself, the room was in questionable taste. Pink marble floors veined with white were polished to such a high shine, Cade and Jess had to shuffle like old folks to keep from slipping. The walls, tiled in the same blush marble, reflected the two of them in their rose-colored depths. It was like seeing themselves in some alternate dimension where they were always pink, always naked, and just a bit blurry. Jess wished life was really like that.

  Sitting on the edge of the enormous jetted tub, she cranked the hot water on high.

  “Are there life jackets?” Stepping out of his jeans, Cade gaped up at the beaded chandelier, reflected forever in multiple mirrors set in heavy gold frames. “I feel like I’m in Vegas.” His eyes fell on Jess, and the wonder turned to smug satisfaction as he sank down beside her. “And I beat the house tonight.”

  He swept a dangling lock of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and they kissed while steam from the hot water plumed from the tub.

  When Jess came up for air, she turned to check the water level, took a deep breath—and gagged. Gesturing wildly, she tried to wave away the sickening odor that rose from the steaming water. She staggered across the room, sliding dangerously on the slick floors.

  “You all right?” Cade looked up, caught the smell, and coughed.

  “It stinks.”

  “Sure does.”

  Steam rose in veils from the water, and with it the smell, powerful and impossible to ignore. It filled the room like a living thing but smelled like a dead one.

  Gasping, Cade plucked a Kleenex from the vanity and put it over his nose. With his nostrils clamped shut, he dared to bend over the tub long enough to turn the water off.

  “What the hell is it?” Jess’s eyes were watering as she wrapped herself in a towel. She worried she might never take an untainted breath again. “Sulfur?”

  “Worse. I’m not sure, but it’s bad. It smells like dirt.”

  “It smells like death.”

  “It smells like death dirt. I guess we’ll find out. Molly sent a sample of the water to the state, so they can test it for the Rhinestone Cowboy.” He wrapped a towel around his waist. “Seems he read a Louis L’Amour story about alkaline water cows can’t drink.”


  “Seriously? Louis L’Amour?”

  “Taught that man everything he knows about ranching.”

  Jess snorted, her laughter blending with the dog’s sudden barking. Cade put a finger to his lips at the sound of a vehicle crunching ominously up the gravel drive.

  “Holy crap! They’re home. And we’re naked.”

  They raced to the stairs. Cade’s first step sent his towel cascading to the floor. He tripped on the end of it, barely catching himself, but they kept right on going. They could explain a damp towel on the stairs, but it would be hard to explain a naked Cade—especially when Naked Cade was accompanied by Nearly Naked Jess.

  Or not so nearly. As she dragged him up the stairs, the corner of her own towel, neatly tucked in above her breasts, worked its way free. In slow motion, the oversized bath sheet unwrapped until it, too, lay undone on the stairs.

  “Just get to my room,” she hissed as Cade dipped to grab it, then played a quick tug-of-war with Boogy, who’d grabbed the other end.

  “Gotta get dressed,” she fretted.

  “You think?” He grinned as she shoved him into her room ahead of her.

  “I do think. Sometimes. But it’s hard right now.”

  “You’re right, it is.”

  Giggling, she smacked him and stepped into a pair of panties from her top dresser drawer. She pulled a T-shirt from the middle one, but the bottom drawer stuck, so there was a quick wrestling match before she hauled it open and found a pair of jeans. She was hopping around on one leg, pulling them on and trying not to trip over the dog, when she noticed Cade was still naked, sitting on the side of the bed with a smile on his face as he watched her reverse striptease.

  “Get dressed!” She swatted him with a pair of clean socks.

  He regarded her with a sexy grin, and she wondered why she was putting clothes on instead of taking them off.

  “I’m trying to remember where I left my clothes.”

  It all came back to her in a rush. The two of them making love in her bed. Running a bath in her parents’ bathroom. Cade had felt shy about running around naked in Heck and Molly’s house, so…