Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  Mistresses? Emma wrapped her hands around her middle, her stomach churning.

  Bile rose in her throat as Jake said, “Do what you have to do.”

  Emma knew she should move. Hell, maybe even run away, but she couldn’t. Her heart broke into a thousand pieces right there. She couldn’t find the strength to move, to breathe, to do anything. All Jake had to do was tell John that he cared about her and that she was staying put at Cadwell Advertising and in his life.

  Why wasn’t he?

  Besides, she’d worked damn hard for the promotion as Executive Creative Director. Transferring her would only prove the gossip right, making everyone believe she screwed her way to the top. All her hard work would forever be tainted.

  She blinked to clear the tears, and a solid figure appeared in front of her.

  “Oh,” John said, stepping back, his eyes huge, face pale. “Emma. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”

  Jake was at the doorway a second later, his brows drawn tightly over his intense brown eyes. His hair perfectly styled, as always; his gorgeous chiseled face marred with a frown; his suit tailored to fit him like a glove. “Emma.” Jake reached out to her, regret in his eyes.

  She hated her goddamn tears and stepped back. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

  Jake’s jaw muscles clenched, then he sighed, gesturing at John. “Leave us a moment.” John left without objection, and when it was just the two of them, Jake’s voice softened. “This is complicated, Emma. I should have transferred you the moment we started dating. I told you before I wanted to keep this quiet. It’s not quiet anymore.”

  “Actually,” she retorted, folding her arms over her chest, “this is all very simple. You need to tell everyone we’re dating so that my reputation isn’t ruined here at work. You also will not transfer me to ensure the gossip doesn’t spread further. Do those two things, and this becomes very uncomplicated.”

  Jake shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced down at his fancy, shiny black shoes.

  Reality dawned on Emma then like a frigid wave drowning her, leaving her gasping for breath. “You don’t want anyone to know we’re dating?” The words barely made it out of her tight throat.

  Jake slowly looked up. “Emma, like I said, it’s complicated.”

  She blinked, trying to let what he said sink in. Her head swam. For a year it never bothered her that they kept their relationship private. She understood. Now she realized she’d been played. “You had the chance to stop these rumors by owning up to our relationship, and now you’re only fueling them, pretty much shitting on all the good work I’ve ever done to rise to the top. I thought you cared about me, but I guess I was wrong, wasn’t I? Just another notch on Jake Cadwell’s bedpost, huh?” Sure, she knew he’d had a handful of flings in his time, but with her, he seemed different. God, had it all been lies? Had he been sleeping with other women this whole time too? Endless horrific possibilities rushed through her mind, shattering her heart with every one of them.

  Emotion suddenly filled his face. “Emma, I never meant to hurt you. I’m just not looking for anything that serious right now.”

  “So, because you’ve got some fucked-up commitment issues, you are willing to ruin my career? No one will take me seriously, Jake, do you not see that? Whispers will spread through the advertising world, and no one will touch me because, no matter how strong my portfolio is, they’ll think I got the promotion because we’re screwing.”

  “I’ll get you into a good agency, you don’t need to worry about your job.” His brows came together, hand reaching for her.

  “Don’t,” she snapped, jerking away from him. He was only thinking of himself. “You know what, Jake, I don’t need your handout. Don’t worry about transferring me. I quit!” Instead of doing what she craved to do so very badly—punching him in the nose—she walked away.

  “Emma,” he called.

  “Emma.”

  She startled and blinked, finally managing to say to Shep, “The relationship ended.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” She swallowed the emotions threatening to escape. “I left New York City to come to Grams’s funeral, and I never left.” She bit into the burger.

  Shep’s brow rose. “What about your job?”

  “I quit,” she replied with a full mouth.

  He paused, then cocked his head, obviously curious. “Do you think you’ll move back to New York City?”

  She’d wondered that herself over the last few weeks. Just like she’d been doing all this time, she shrugged. “That remains undecided.” She glanced away from his captivating eyes to the barn. “For now, Grams left me this farm when she passed away, so I’ve decided I’m taking a long vacation to figure out my next steps.”

  “It’s a good place to get away,” Shep said gently.

  She smiled. “You’re right—it is.”

  Silence fell between them while they finished eating. On the last bite, Shep asked, “So, what’s your final verdict?”

  It took her a minute to realize he was talking about the burger, and not about her moving back to New York City. She chewed a minute longer, then smiled. “It’s good.”

  “Just good?” He leaned forward and lowered his voice into that sultry tone. “Ah, I think you can do better than that, don’t you?”

  That same slow unavoidable heat slid between her thighs again, her heart racing, her temperature rising. “Incredible. Mind-blowing. The best burger I’ve ever had.”

  He gave a sly grin and winked. “That’s more like it, darlin’.”

  * * *

  The clanging of the dishes as Emma cleaned up after dinner followed Shep outside. He shut the wooden screen door behind him then trotted down the old porch steps, each board groaning under his weight. When his boots hit the dirt, he pressed his cell phone to his ear. Danny, the twenty-two-year-old farmhand at his parents’ ranch, answered the call on the second ring. “Danny, it’s Shep. Would you mind bringing Tadgh out to the Monroe farm?”

  “I take it you’re helping out with that horse out there,” Danny replied.

  “Yeah, bring him tacked up, all right?”

  “Will do. I’ll be there soon.”

  The line went dead and Shep returned his phone to his pocket, setting out toward the small red barn ahead. The Monroe farm was a typical hobby farm. The sand ring where the abused horse was, was off to the left side of the house. A larger grass paddock was off to the right, with the barn across from the white farmhouse. He’d meant to come out earlier to the barn, but Emma had been his priority.

  When he entered the barn’s double doors, he discovered that each stall door opened from the front as well as the back, letting the animals out into the grass paddock as they pleased. Shep had been to the farm once before, taking a horse off Daisy’s hands, and all of Daisy’s animals lived out together. He wasn’t sure how she made that work, considering he’d never seen a cow, a donkey, a couple of sheep, and a handful of goats get on together so well, but somehow here, with Daisy, they all got along. Quite possibly because they’d been through hell and back, and anything better than that was good.

  “Ugh, again!” Emma’s curt voice snapped behind him. “Why aren’t they eating?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, discovered Emma frowning at the donkey and the goats. He peeked into the stall over the side and smiled. “The problem is you’re feeding the donkey food meant for the goats.” He gestured to the goats. “And what you’re feeding them is meant for the donkey.”

  Emma’s eyes went huge, hands coming to her chest. “Oh, my God, I’ve been feeding them the wrong food for weeks.” She paused. Then her eyes went even wider. “And sometimes they eat it. I haven’t caused some mad cow thing, have I?”

  Shep moved around her to grab out the food from the donkey’s stall. “They’re fine. Don’t forget, they’ve all been through far worse, and I’m sure they’re just happy to be fed at all.” Once he switched out the feed, everyone beg
an eating. “Besides,” he said, facing her again, “how would you know what’s what? Nothing is labeled.” He called her over with a wave of his hand. “Here, come on, I’ll show you the ropes.”

  Heat flooded her eyes, and he knew that had nothing to do with him being sweet. Rope had apparently become a trigger word for her, causing her to sensually react. Ah, she wanted him to put her in his ropes, did she?

  Interesting.

  When he reached the three garbage bins full of feed, he noticed a marker resting on the wooden railing. He hastily wrote on the bins: HORSE, DONKEY, EVERYONE ELSE. “Goats, pigs, and cows can all eat the same thing. The horse and donkey have different food.” He reached for the three sizes of scoops on the ground, placing them in the right bins. “In the summer, you don’t need to feed them as much because they’re grazing the fields, so a smaller scoop for each should be good. And always top up their hay in the afternoon, a couple flakes per stall will work.”

  “Thank you for explaining all that.” Emma sighed, looking at the bins. “I saw Grams feed them when I visited during the summers growing up, so I got the hay down, but the feed looks exactly the same. Even Google couldn’t help me figure it out.”

  Shep laughed. “You know you have a problem if Google can’t help you.”

  “Exactly.” Her smile grew.

  He wasn’t blind to how much he liked that smile, and what it did to him physically when she offered him such warmth. Sara had been the last woman who made him notice her. And Sara had nothing on Emma. He didn’t only want to take Emma out for dinner, he wanted to take her to his bed. His cravings were worsening. His hunger demanding to be met. It was that damn pouty mouth of hers, the playfulness in her eyes, the spark in her smile.

  Christ, his cock hardened like he was a teenager all over again, and it was her doing this to him. All of her. Though he knew there was more going on here than lust alone. When she spoke of her past, there was something so vulnerable about her that spoke to his primal nature. Even her sadness got to him. He’d been around that a lot lately with his mother and his brothers. He couldn’t help them. But Emma he could, that he knew for certain.

  He swallowed deeply, forcing himself to look away from her, staying on task. Everything else seemed to be in order in the barn. He quickly tossed the hay into the stalls, since they’d missed the afternoon feed, before addressing her again. “Got any more questions while I’m here?”

  She followed his gaze around the barn then shrugged. “I think I’m okay now. The feed bins had me confused. So, it’s morning feed. Afternoon hay around three?”

  “Sounds about right.” Shep nodded.

  Desolation filled Emma’s eyes as she scanned the animals in their stalls, her voice becoming small. “Grams was so much better at this than me.”

  “You’re doing fine,” he said, moving closer. “You need to settle in, is all.”

  She snorted a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah, I’m doing great. I was dragged by a crazy horse through a field and needed rescuing. On top of that, I’ve been feeding the animals the wrong food for weeks.”

  His mouth twitched. “I’m sure Daisy had her share of those moments too.”

  Emma’s smile turned sweetly sad. “Maybe.”

  Something passed between them then, and Shep thought this Jake was a damn fool. He couldn’t imagine hurting this woman. Emma had been through too much, and through her eyes he saw that pain, visible, raw, bleeding. Protective feelings flared through him. He could make things better for her. He oddly found himself wanting to.

  “I’m not sure I can ever thank you,” she whispered, voice thick. “For the help. For the kindness.”

  His fingers twitched to reach out and grab her, bringing her in nice and close. “Please don’t thank me. I am not being put out any.” She took another step forward, and before he lost all control, he stepped back. “Let’s go see about getting that horse settled for the night.” Emma was tired. Dark circles rested under her eyes. She needed rest, and he needed time away from her to remind himself now wasn’t the time to indulge himself in the likes of Emma Monroe.

  On the way out the barn’s door, he grabbed four flakes of hay, then stepped out into the warm fresh air. Immediately, he spotted Danny atop his bay quarter horse coming down the hill on the left side of the house, Shep’s black warmblood, Tadgh, following at Danny’s side.

  Shep moved toward the sand ring, stopping near the gate of the abused horse, and tossed the hay over the fence into the feeding bin next to the water trough. Most horses would’ve made a beeline for the hay; the chestnut gelding whinnied then pranced to the other side of the paddock, watching them, on alert. Shep turned to Emma as she settled next to him. “Your horse needs a name.”

  Her nose scrunched. “A name, huh?”

  “A name gives someone an identity—a meaning. This fella needs that as much as anyone does. He needs to belong.”

  She leaned against the fence, her pretty eyes regarding the horse. “Bentley, that’s what I’ll call him.”

  “Like the car?”

  She smiled with a nod. “Everyone knows Bentleys are nice and expensive, so hopefully, the name puts off some good vibes.”

  Christ, they lived in very different worlds. Shep thought Bentleys were a waste of money. Sure, they were flashy, but spending that kind of money on a car that couldn’t be put to work was worthless. Now, spend that money on a souped-up Ford F-150, and they’d be talking. “Bentley it is.” He turned away from Emma as Danny drew closer. Shep met him halfway, taking Tadgh’s reins. “Thanks for bringing him, Danny.”

  “No problem.” Danny tipped his hat in Emma’s direction. “Good evening, Ms. Monroe.”

  “It’s Emma,” she said with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Danny half grinned, putting on the charm Shep was sure worked with the younger ladies. “I’m glad to see you up and walking,” Danny said.

  Her expression became pained. “I take it you were there to help me in the field, then?”

  “Yes, miss, I was,” Danny said, resting his hands on the horn of the western saddle. He was also one of the guys who had wrangled Bentley into the sand ring after the accident.

  Emma gave a long-suffering sigh, then said, “Well, even if I might be embarrassed to know that more than one person actually saw me in that condition, I’ll still say thank you for helping me.”

  Danny laughed. “I’d say anytime, but I think that might give the idea I want to see you like that again, which isn’t the case.”

  Emma’s sweet soft laugh warmed Shep as Danny turned to him. “Call if you need anything else.”

  “Will do.” Shep smiled. “Thanks again.”

  Danny waved as his response, clicked once, and took off cantering up the hill.

  Shep turned his focus onto Tadgh, his seventeen hands, big-boned, black warmblood. While he began untacking him, Emma moved to Tadgh, petting his face. “Ah, better be careful there, he won’t let you stop petting him once you start.”

  “He’s cute.” She grinned, rubbing her hand down his face. “I don’t mind one bit.”

  Tadgh dropped his face against her chest, and if he were a cat, he’d have been purring. Shep was momentarily jealous of his horse before he grabbed off the western saddle and pad, setting both against the fence.

  “Come on, boy, enough love.” He led Tadgh toward the gate and unlatched the lock. Once they walked through, Bentley snorted, head high, on full alert. Shep sighed and removed Tadgh’s bridle, then left the ring, relocking the gate.

  “Is this wise?” Emma asked, stepping onto the bottom railing to see over the top. “Could Bentley hurt Tadgh?”

  Shep settled in next to her, resting his arms on the wooden fence, one cowboy boot on the bottom railing next to hers. “Tadgh will teach Bentley more than I could. He’ll show him that there is nothing to fear, and that’s what we want for Bentley. We want him to begin trusting us.”

  As he expected, Tadgh went straight for the hay, ignoring Ben
tley entirely. “Bentley’s had a hard life,” Shep continued. “He’ll settle in. I don’t doubt it. He just needs to see and believe that we’re not here to hurt him.”

  Emma’s brows rose. “How will you do that?”

  Shep leaned forward, getting close enough to inhale her flowery perfume. “By showing him that my touch doesn’t hurt, it heals.”

  Her breath hitched, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She clearly read that he’d directed that message to her too.

  Christ, he wanted to grab her and act on all that heat pouring out of her. Instead, he drew in a long breath, exhaling through his nose. “For now, let’s call it a night. I need a shower. You need rest.”

  She stood speechless, unblinking, obviously captivated by the passion between them.

  With a smile, he kept hold of the bridle, grabbed his saddle and pad to leave on the porch, and strode away. He liked her speechless. It evened the playing field. Now he wasn’t the only one fighting to stay in control.

  Chapter 4

  Ten minutes later, Emma finished putting the dishes that she’d left to dry after dinner away and flicked the lights off. On her way upstairs, she locked the front door, taking one last look at the horses in the ring. The sun had begun to set, casting a pinkish hue across the sky. Bentley still hadn’t moved. At least he wasn’t pacing the fence anymore, silently watching Tadgh enjoy the hay. That had to be a good sign.

  No matter what, she couldn’t fail at helping him. To do so would be like failing Grams herself, and that she simply couldn’t allow. A tickle in the back of her throat had her fighting back emotion. Oh, how easy it would be to admit failure and crumble into the dark empty hole of depression. That hole looked inviting. Quiet. Peaceful, even.

  Emma cleared her throat, lifting her chin, not allowing herself to sink to where her mind and heart wanted to take her. She was tired, that was all. Thick, heavy exhaustion weighed on her right down to her dragging feet while she turned and headed up the stairs, the quiet house all around her. She reached the landing and strode by the bathroom right as the shower turned on. She’d been in this house for weeks now by herself; even that sound of knowing she wasn’t alone brought comfort.