Shep took her hand from her face and kissed her palm, his potent stare never leaving her face. “Now what do you believe?”
“Now I know that fate is intertwined in there too.”
“In what way?”
She moved a little closer, sliding her hand over more of his cheek. “Things in New York City had to fall apart in the most terrible way, or I would never would have come here. It was the perfect timing that made this all happen. Yes, I made choices along the way, but fate led me here, and I followed where it took me.” She took a large, deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I couldn’t understand why Grams left me the house. At first, I thought it was because she knew I would have trouble selling it, and that I would take care to find the perfect owner who would continue looking after all the animals.” Shep wiped the tear trailing down her cheek with his thumb while she added, “Now I know that she left me the farm to bring me to you. That was her final gift to me.”
Emotion drew his brows together, his voice softened. “She loved you.”
“She did,” Emma barely managed, emotion hitching her voice, “and I loved her.”
Shep took her in his arms then, wrapping her in all his strength. He let her cry, her head pressing against his chest. He said nothing, simply holding her, only firming up her choice that she needed to be nowhere else but right here with him.
When the emotion drained, she leaned away. He cupped her cheeks, brushing the lingering moisture away with his thumbs. “I think you’re missing something very important in all this.”
“What’s that?”
“Your grandmother wanted you to be here in the one place she loved most. This farm was all Daisy. She’s here, in all of this farm. All around us. Her love and kindness is rooted into River Rock, and there was only one person she thought worthy of taking it over . . .” He hesitated and his eyes positively glowed. “ . . . You. You’re Daisy’s greatest gift, Emma.”
Tears welled again, and Emma did nothing to stop them, because she knew Shep would never let her crumble. And yet he wouldn’t let her hide either. Safe and comforted, she hid nothing. Not anymore. “She gave us this, Shep. A home. Our home.”
Her belly fluttered under the love in Shep’s smile. “And that was her greatest gift to me,” he said.
Emma saw her future in his eyes before she leaned in, pressing her lips against his. Warmth flooded over her like it had that first day he touched her. Though this time there was more than lust, there was love, and there was the promise of forever.
Epilogue
Seventeen days later . . .
With the Navy SEALs on their way through the vast forests of Colorado with nothing but their egos, adrenaline, and the Blackshaw team to keep them alive, Shep turned his truck into the driveway. The two-way radio resting in the cup holder was turned on, in case anyone needed to be pulled out of the training. While his ATV had fuel, and was waiting for him if needed, he was calling it a day. He often regretted that business took him away from going out with his team. Not today. He’d rather be with Emma.
When he turned off the main road into the driveway, moving closer to the farmhouse, he spotted Emma at the fence, watching the horses, who were out in the big grass field along with the other animals. Coming home to her every night after work had been as natural as getting to know her. Being with her felt right. Without her, nothing made sense anymore. He pulled his truck to a stop and she gave him a wave and a cute smile.
This place . . . she . . . was home.
Those thoughts followed him as he exited his truck, quickly moving in her direction. When he reached her, he pulled her in for a kiss that he hoped ignited her bones. Only when she melted beneath him did he release her, finding her a little breathless.
She grinned, her hands on his chest. “So, you missed me, I see?”
“Of course I missed you.” He gestured toward the horses out in the field. “How are they doing?”
Emma followed his gaze. “Oh, they’re doing great with everyone else, but I think Tadgh might be jealous. Bentley seems to love Fiona too.”
Shep laughed, draping his arm across her shoulder, studying Tadgh staring at Bentley and Fiona eating hay together. It only seemed right not to take Tadgh away from Bentley, but that meant Fiona needed to move in too. “We might have to bring another girl down from the ranch to even out the playing field,” he said.
Emma laughed. “I think you might be right.”
Before Shep could say more, he spotted Nash’s truck speeding down the driveway.
Emma’s long sigh drew his attention back to her, as she said, “He seriously cannot slow down, can he?”
Shep pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Nash doesn’t know how to be slow.” He caught her smile before he glanced at the truck as it pulled to a stop.
Chase jumped out of the passenger seat, holding up a black tube. “I’ve got the plans.”
“Oooh, this is exciting,” Emma said, eyes bright.
Shep agreed with a nod. “It is.” This was the day they’d been waiting for. Chase had taken over getting all the permits and drawing up the plans. This was his shot to show everyone in River Rock, and Colorado alike, what he could do, and he wasn’t wasting it.
Nash finally exited the truck, following Chase up to the house.
Emma went to stride forward. Shep grabbed her hand, pulling her in close. “This is happening all because of you. You know that, right?” The smile she gave had him tugging her closer, dropping his mouth to hers. He enjoyed himself probably more than he should right now.
“Fuck later. We’ve got shit to do,” Nash called.
Emma broke away, laughing. “A day isn’t a day in River Rock without Nash being Nash.”
Shep nodded and sighed, taking her hand then leading her up the porch steps into the house. He found his brothers in the kitchen, and like always, they’d made themselves perfectly at home, taking a couple beers out of the fridge. Emma sat down at the kitchen table while Shep grabbed two beers out for them, cracking them open, handing one to Emma.
“Thanks.” She smiled.
Shep nodded and sat next to her, saying to Chase, “Wow me.”
“All right.” Chase took out the blueprints and spread out the documents along the kitchen table. He handed Shep one, Nash another one, and Emma one too. “Here’s my thinking: Based on what we’ll charge per guest, we’ll start to build the sleeping cabins first. Twelve in total. Along with a comfort station with washroom and shower facilities. That will get us started.” He handed Shep another blueprint. “From there, the plan will be to build an outdoor pavilion.” Then he handed Nash the last blueprint. “After which, we’ll finish up with the dining hall, because it’s the most expensive. For now, we’ll get Mom to host the guests in the house.”
“That will certainly work,” Shep agreed, studying the blueprints. “And I can only imagine Mom will be onboard with this.”
“We’ll need to hire a couple of cooks, though,” Nash interjected, handing the blueprint back to Chase. “Mom can’t handle all those meals.”
Emma added, “I wish I could help her, but honestly, cooking isn’t really my thing.”
Shep placed his hand on her thigh, giving her leg a squeeze. “You’re doing just fine running all the website stuff, and you’ve still got your part-time job at the Spurs. Besides, we need someone on social media, and that’s your thing. That’s where you should stay.” He knew that at some point her position with Blackshaw Cattle would become full-time, and she’d put her marketing experience to good use, but when that happened, and if it did, would always be Emma’s decision.
“Okay, good.” She smiled. “Because I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility that I would give the guests food poisoning.”
Shep pressed a kiss to her forehead, right as Chase asked, “The closing on your house is in a couple days?”
Shep leaned away from Emma and nodded at Chase. The sale of his house had happened in six hours. The buyer, who they learned was a famous
actor looking for a quiet home, came in at seventy thousand over asking price and wanted a fast closing. “Once we’ve got those funds available, I’ll cut you a check, then we can move ahead.”
“Great.” The spark in Chase’s eyes was undeniable. His brother needed this venture, and Shep had given him complete control, only offering to help on the business end of things whenever Chase asked.
With Colin continuing to run the cattle company, keeping the current customers happy, this was all Chase’s show. And they projected that six months after the grand opening, which was set to happen in three months, they would be recouping the finances they’d lost. Of course, Shep was taking a financial hit fronting the money, but they didn’t need to sell or close Blackshaw Cattle, and nothing mattered except that. Besides, his home was at the farm with Emma now.
“So, we’re good, then?” Chase asked, studying the plans, his hands pressed against the table.
Nash nodded. “I’m good.”
Shep examined the blueprints, then grabbed Emma, pulling her onto his lap. None of this would mean what it did without her. She’d given Chase his dreams and Nash a purpose. “What do you think, Emma?”
She smiled at him, then glanced at Chase and Nash before nodding. “I think we’re ready.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Shep said to Chase, sliding his fingers along Emma’s nape, relishing the shiver she gave.
“Jesus Christ, and everyone says I can’t keep my dick in my pants,” Nash quipped, clearly noticing her reaction. He rose from his chair, hurrying out of the room.
“He’s not wrong, you know.” Chase gave an exaggerated sigh, leaving the blueprints on the table and frowning. “Is it really necessary for us to continually watch you two nearly fuck each other constantly?”
Emma laughed.
Shep didn’t. He ignored his brothers as they left, wrapping his arms around Emma. As she turned, straddling him, he cupped her face. “It is necessary.”
“And why is that?” She smiled.
He nipped her lip. “Because I do want to constantly fuck you, and that, Emma, will never change.”
She leaned forward and whispered against his mouth, “Promise?”
“Darlin.” He slid his tongue across her bottom lip, relishing in her deep shiver. “Reach into my pants, and then you can feel my promise.”
Turn the page for an excerpt from
SWEET-LOVING COWBOY
Coming Fall 2018 from SMP Swerve
Chapter 1
People came to the western themed bar, Kinky Spurs, for the live country music, a ride on the mechanical bull, and the famous off-the-charts-hot chicken wings capable of bringing men to their knees. They even came for the sexually charged nightly roping game between the customers to win a free dinner. For Chase Blackshaw, the best thing about Kinky Spurs wasn’t the place itself, it was a person within its wood-paneled walls.
Harper McKinney.
Dressed in the Kinky Spurs uniform of a T-shirt with Kinky Spurs written across her chest in bold white calligraphy and tiny denim shorts, Harper was everything beautiful in this world.
With her warm hazel eyes and honey-colored long hair, she stunned with a natural beauty that had come to her later in life. Chase remembered when Harper had left River Rock, a town nestled in the Colorado mountains, to attend culinary school in Denver a few years back; she was awkward and young. She’d returned a breathtaking woman whom Chase couldn’t ignore. Every awkward thing about her had turned into sexy confidence.
Standing behind the bar, she caught him looking at her and aimed a sultry smile in his direction, hardening his cock to steel. This was their game. She’d tease, he’d tease back. The game was becoming old. He wanted the real deal.
A greasy aroma spilled from the kitchen, drawing him forward. To her. He passed the empty stage where the country music band would play later that night, weaving his way through the scattered tables. The bar was quiet save for a soft hum created by reruns of the football game playing on the flat-screen TVs and soft chatter among the dozen customers there for dinner.
When Chase slid onto the stool at the bar, she moved in front of him. “Your usual?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Please.” He stared at her darting tongue, the way her teeth grazed her lips.
She avoided his gaze when she fetched his drink, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink. He restrained a groan as she bent at the waist to grab his favorite craft beer, Foxy Diva, from the fridge below the liquor bottles. A ravenous hunger overwhelmed him, forcing him to glance at the stranger next to him, the one with the brunette sitting on his lap.
“Oh my God, what did you do?”
The high pitch of Harper’s voice caused him to snap his head forward, finding her wide-eyed stare. He followed her gaze, discovering blood dripping from his hand onto the reclaimed wooden slab of the bar. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Now aware of the warm wetness, he scooped some napkins off the bar, wrapping them around the small laceration on his index finger. “I cut myself earlier on a saw. I thought the bleeding had stopped.”
Harper frowned, peeling back the napkins, examining the laceration for herself. “By the looks of it, you need stiches.”
“It’s fine,” he countered.
She gave the laceration another look, then rolled her eyes. “Actually, it’s not fine at all. Come on, there’s a first aid kit in the back.”
He stayed put on the stool. “Nah, it’s good.” What he needed was a beer, food, and a little time with Harper. Those three things always seemed to right his world.
Harper’s expression turned hard, her hands on her hips. “You are bleeding all over the bar. First, that’s really gross and unsanitary for the other customers. Second, stop being a big baby and follow me.”
Beside Chase, the man chuckled.
Chase rose, giving the guy a grin. “Careful. I still have that saw.” He left the guy, who wisely shut up, behind him, following Harper as she ducked under the bar to lead him into the back. They passed the kitchen, full of stainless steel appliances and tables, where the cook was too busy to notice them passing.
Harper made it to a small office and pointed him inside. “Sit.” He dropped down into the client chair while she left him, returning a minute later with a first aid kit. “Since you refuse to go get stitches, let’s hope this works.” She took a seat at the desk and pulled out sterilized wound-closure strips from the first aid kit and began cutting them. After she’d cut the second strip to size, she asked, “Are you okay?”
“Besides having a cut finger, yes.”
She took the napkins away, placing them beneath his hand to catch the blood. “You sure?”
Chase gave her a hard look now. “It’s a cut, that’s all. I’m fine.”
She hesitated. Then, “You look tired.”
“I’m fine.”
“You do realize you’re saying ‘I’m fine’ a lot, which indicates that you’re totally not fine.” Her wise eyes flicked to his, seemingly reading right through him. “Besides, it’s not like you to cut your finger on a saw.”
“Precisely,” he agreed. To stop this conversation that was going nowhere, he leaned forward, watching her lips part in a blatant invitation for him to claim her, and winked. “Truly, Harper, the only problem right now is that my pride is being crucified.”
She laughed softly and inspected the wound on his finger. Blood continued to seep down his hand onto the napkins. Chase didn’t need to discuss how exhausted he felt. The heaviness was there in his damn bones. But that was expected, considering his company, Blackshaw Construction, was at the end of a three-month job that his two brothers had entrusted to him. They were turning their late father’s cattle ranch into a guest ranch, where guests could come run cattle alongside the Blackshaw Cattle Company cowboys.
“Well, I don’t think you should feel too bad or embarrassed about it anyway,” she eventually said. “All you’ve been doing lately is working. That’s not good for anyone. It’s a surprise the
accident didn’t happen sooner.”
Chase gave her the soft smile she deserved. Harper’s defending him had become a staple of his interactions with her. He liked how she talked like she knew him inside and out, seeing the good in him.
“Sorry,” she said, pained. “I suspect this is going to suck.”
And suck it did.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to flinch while she squeezed the wound tighter together. Carefully but with focus, she applied the wound closure strips to the laceration until she sealed the wound tight.
Her worried eyes met his. “Better now?”
“Much. Thank you.” He rose.
Her fingers snagged his wrist. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”
The silkiness in her voice brought his attention back to her. The heated look in her eyes returned him to his seat, his muscles quivering. He stared at her hand on his arm. For the nine months since she’d been home from Denver, he’d been managing his desire for her privately and efficiently. He focused on that potent touch now, knowing he’d never tell her to let him go. Sensing the raw heat burning between them, he lifted his gaze to hers, discovering her firm eye contact, her chest rising and falling quickly with her heavy breaths. He flooded with warmth, fighting against his desire to erase the distance between his mouth and hers.
She visibly swallowed, her hand trembling when she took the sterilized wipe from the first aid kid and cleaned all the blood from around the wound, her fingers trailing over his. This time, the pain didn’t even register. With every swipe of her finger across his, his cock twitched, making him entirely aware of her. Her fruity aroma filled his senses, and the world around him faded away as he became aware of only her.
Dirty-Talking Cowboy--A Kinky Spurs Novel Page 24
