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The Rancher’s City Girl: Wells Brothers Book One

Page 6

by North, Leslie


  “Where are you going?” Cade called after her.

  “To prove myself,” she said.

  And for the next week, that was what Becca did. She set three separate alarms on her phone so she’d get up with everybody else. She started every day freshening the stalls in the barn, and then she spent the rest of her time glued to Cade, taking in everything he did. And every night, she collapsed into bed like she’d run a marathon. The days had a rhythm that sank into her skin, and by the end of the week, she couldn’t imagine going back to the city.

  Or rather—she could imagine it, but she didn’t want to. She very much didn’t want to.

  But there was no time to think about that. There were stalls to clean, pigs to feed, eggs to gather, and miles to put on her new cowboy boots every day. So every morning, she slipped them on, proud of how broken-in they’d gotten in such a short time. And she went out into the sun and got to work.

  8

  “Mmmm.” Becca came out of the front door of the house and let the screen door swing closed behind her, and Cade swam up out of his thoughts. The sound of her voice did that to him—broke him right out of whatever he’d been thinking about and hauled him back into the present. And the present was all Becca, all the time. He had no idea how black-and-white life had gone at the ranch until the past week, when the fact of her there turned everything to color again. He sat in one of the old rockers near the corner of the porch, and Becca dropped into the one beside him. “It’s a gorgeous evening.”

  He heard the sparkling challenge in her voice. Only this time, it got his blood up—in a good way. Not like the first time she’d shown up on his front porch. Had it only been a week or so ago? It seemed like she’d been here forever. It almost seemed like she belonged here.

  The twilight settled in pinks and purples over the front lawn, the driveway snaking down below them to the main road. He’d sat on this porch and driven down that driveway a hundred times in his life. A thousand. And he’d never felt the way he did right now—so utterly aware of another person, and not the bounce and jive of the truck or the changing landscape.

  “Just say what’s on your mind,” he said, stealing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Becca’s hair gleamed damp from the shower, and she’d pulled it up into a bun on the top of her head. When it dried in the morning, he now knew, she could release it into curls and waves that taunted his hands. “I know you’re wanting to tell me something.”

  “No, I wanted to ask you something.” She grinned down at the road like it had done something nice for him. “Any other cows due to give birth?”

  He let out a good-natured groan. “You still on about that?”

  “I’m just saying, the sooner we start collecting data, the sooner we can make better decisions for the ranch.”

  We. The we went off like a firework in the center of his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it was celebration or warning. How was he supposed to tell her that second thoughts had been running rampant in his mind, more and more every day? Their time together was already shrinking into the rearview mirror, and Cade had no idea what he was going to do about it. “What’s so wrong with doing things the way we always have? You saw how it worked out with Dr. Lambeth. I knew when to make the call.”

  “Of course you knew to make the call. But what about when it’s not you? What about being prepared ahead of time?” A little frown danced across Becca’s face. “It doesn’t hurt you to have the information at your fingertips.”

  His skin went tight at the thought of having to search through computers and databases every time he needed to know something about one of his cows. “Who do you think has time for all this? Ranch work isn’t done in an office.” He kept his tone light, but the hair on the back of his neck had raised. What was the point of even considering new technology, if he wasn’t going to sell the ranch? He’d run it for all these years without spreadsheets and RFID tags and everything else.

  Something else gnawed at him, too—the nagging sense that Becca was right. All this new data science was the way of the future. All around the Wells ranch, his neighbors had been adopting it piece by piece for years. But he’d never needed it.

  And now…

  Maybe it wasn’t the data he needed after all.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, and then she was gone, the clean soap scent of her whispering in the air behind her. A minute later, she came back out, easing through the door with two glasses of sweet tea in her hands. She handed one to him, her dark eyes lingering on his. “It takes time at first,” she said. “To set everything up. But then it pays dividends. It’ll only be easier if we start now, but I can always wait.”

  He took a sip of the sweet tea, the flavor nostalgic and delicious on his tongue. “How’s everything inside?” he asked, his soul veering away from the unsaid question between them.

  Becca’s mouth curved in a smile that told him she knew exactly what he was doing. She leaned against the porch railing and sipped at her own tea. “Joey’s asleep. Must’ve had a long day, because she only made it through a couple chapters of the book.” That evening, Joey had begged for Becca to read to her, kicking Cade to the curb. He’d been out on the porch ever since. What did a man do with so much spare time? “And Jayne’s gone for the day. Didn’t you see her leave?”

  “Guess I had other things on my mind.”

  “I know how that is.”

  He snorted into his iced tea. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a few other things on your mind. You know what it’s like to have everything else on your mind. Honestly, Bec, I don’t know how you can stay here.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s amazing here.” She flung one arm out to indicate the scene below them, slowly sinking into night. “I mean, look at that. Just look at it.”

  He had the uncomfortable sensation of wanting to look at this view—this view, and nothing else—forever. But at the very core of him, Cade still didn’t know if that was because of the view or the person sitting next to him. “Can you look at it without wanting to bring it up to date?” He joked. “Are you going to need data tracking on the sunset sooner or later?”

  She pouted, and he caught enough of it out of the corner of his eye to turn and look at her. “Is that really all you think of me?” Cade detected a light in her eyes, despite the fake pout on her lips. “That I’m just hungry for numbers? That I have a thing for spreadsheets? Well, I do,” said Becca haughtily. “And you can’t make me feel ashamed for it.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel ashamed.” Something came loose from the iron self-control that banded his belly. Cade knew a rusty set-up when he saw one, and that iron gatework was creaky with the strain. That kiss—that kiss had undone him, and now, with Becca making that face at him, it was front and center in his memory. And his body. “I’m the one who should be ashamed.”

  Becca leaned down and set her half-empty glass of iced tea on the table next to his arm. Cade’s own glass felt fragile in his hand, like it might shatter just from holding it, and he put it down, too. Shattered glass wouldn’t do them any good. And his heart was galloping sixty miles an hour, racing ahead at the curves of her underneath the black T-shirt she wore. The neckline scooped just low enough to show the soft skin of her breasts as she bent down. Fire ignited beneath his belly, the flames licking up around all the parts of him that had the power to drive him wild.

  “Why should you be ashamed, Cade? You’re the one who’s kept this place running. You’re the one who’s made this ranch the kind of place that I want to be at.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, bracing her hands on the railing. “So much I can taste it.”

  “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Not since that night.” He stood, his blood singing with an energy so intense it threatened to break loose from beneath his skin. Cade stepped toward her, the pressure increasing with every inch. “It’s constantly on my mind. And I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t think of you that way—”

  �
��Sounds like you’re the one doing too much thinking,” she said softly, and the gate around his last reserves shuddered and fell to the ground in a heap of useless metal.

  Cade took her in his arms, running his palms over the fabric of that shirt and sweeping one hand around the small of her back. Becca came to him, leaning in, warm and soft. Her dark eyes flitted over his, and he looked down at her. “Tell me to stop,” he said gruffly, and a smile spread across her lips.

  “I won’t.”

  And then she was kissing him, or he was kissing her—they were both kissing each other, and this time it wasn’t the cymbal crash and clang of the time in the rain: it was slow and possessive and intentional. Every second etched itself on Cade’s brain. The way her lips felt, yielding to his. The way she arched toward him, pressing every soft inch of her against his hardness. The way she hooked one hand around his neck. The way her knees buckled a little, and he had to catch her weight. Becca’s breaths came faster and lighter.

  By the time she pulled back from him, the moon had crested the tree line and Becca’s face was half-lit by the lamp she’d left on in the living room. Her chest rose with every breath. She ran her hands down the front of his shirt, skimming his chest and then digging into the fabric. “You’re not pulling away this time, Cade Wells.”

  “You couldn’t make me.”

  He only pulled her closer, lifted her into his arms with one swift movement. Becca gasped and held on.

  It had been so long since he’d felt the weight of a woman in his arms this way. It made him feel like a superhero, moving through the house and up the stairs. He could feel her holding her breath. Quiet, quiet—can’t wake anybody up, or all of this shatters like a mirror making friends with a rock. Cade made a swift right into Becca’s bedroom, set her on her feet, and pressed the door shut with infinite care. He could barely hear the mechanism engage when he flipped the lock.

  When he turned back around, she had her shirt over her head. Who on earth wore a bra like that—pink, with lace trim—to stay at a ranch? Becca, apparently. The sight of it made his mouth go dry. She let the shirt fall to the floor and reached for the buttons of her jeans. He stared, frozen, until she gave him a wink. “Hurry up, cowboy.”

  That spurred him into action. Cade tore at the buttons of his shirt and whipped off the T-shirt beneath at lightning speed. Becca freed herself from her bra, and even though his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her perfect pink nipples, he wasn’t going to let her down. He dropped his jeans. And then he went for his boxers.

  Cade gave himself several heartbeats to savor the look on her face when the last of his clothing dropped away and he stood naked in the center of the guest room, his feet sinking into the familiar softness of the braided rug and his cock already at attention, hard and pulsing.

  Becca couldn’t take her eyes off it…until she could. Then her gaze burned a path up and across his abdomen, his chest—all the muscles there that were lean and toned from his years working the ranch.

  Their breathing filled the silence in the room. Each breath had a reckless character to it, a hitch that made him feel like the world was on the line.

  “Don’t make me wait,” Becca said, her voice low and smooth.

  “I don’t have any protection.” The lack made his fingers pulse with angst.

  “I’m on the pill.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t make me wait.”

  Cade stopped waiting.

  He backed her up onto the bed, his hands on every available inch of her skin. He brushed the pad of his thumb across each of her nipples in turn and felt them peak, drawing toward him. He kissed her hard. He kissed her harder. She moaned against him and let her head fall against the pillow.

  As much as he wanted to drive into her without another hesitation, there was something else he wanted to do first.

  Cade lifted Becca’s legs over his shoulders and spread her wide beneath them. He felt her eyes on him but he could not look away from the glistening perfection at the apex of her legs.

  “Sweet,” he growled. “Too sweet.”

  And then he dipped his head low and took a long, possessive lick.

  Becca curled against the sheets, slapping a hand over her mouth. Cade licked again, tracing her folds, flattening his tongue against them. He circled her clit with his tongue and sucked. She tasted so sweet, so good, that he wanted to stay right here for the rest of eternity.

  But his body demanded more. So did the fingernails scratching at his shoulders, pulling him up.

  “Oh—” Becca said. “Please, it’s so—it’s so good, please—”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, come up here…”

  He crawled up between her legs, kissing as he went, feeling all the tiny shivers that came when he pressed his lips against her skin. He swirled his tongue along her collarbone and his heart nearly burst at the gasp she let out. Cade was on fire. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, his body pulled hers. Becca wriggled her hips and slid him into position between her legs. With a crash of his hips, he sank into her to the hilt.

  Her hips met his with every thrust, and Cade let himself go. He let go of all the tension in his soul about the ranch. He let go of how wrong it was to do this with her—how against the unspoken rules. He gave himself over to the warm, slick pleasure of her and the little moans and groans she made against his lips.

  He reached the peak and his desire broke free of him. His hips left his control and he emptied himself into her while she ground her hips against his in a jerky, sensuous rhythm that told him she was coming. Coming hard.

  They froze together when it was done, relaxing bit by bit. At some point, Becca reached over and switched off the lamp by her bed. She snuggled up against him and her breathing went instantly even and deep.

  Cade wanted to stay.

  He took one more breath of the salty glowing shampoo scent of her and tore himself away. He gathered his clothes in his arms and listened at the door. All was silent.

  In the hall, his heart beat loud in his ears. He slipped into his room and closed the door, then leaned against it, head thrown back.

  What had he done?

  9

  Becca stole a glance at Cade, who attacked the floor of the next stall over in the barn with a laser focus. She watched him for another minute. He kept his eyes on the floor. The air felt almost chilled, too cold for the temperature outside.

  So it was just sex, after all.

  She hadn’t expected anything else. Not really. Not when she’d woken up with the bed empty beside her. If Cade had wanted it to be more, he’d have stayed the night. Wouldn’t he?

  His green eyes flicked up to hers, quick as a lightning bolt. The charge shot through the air and hit her in the center of the chest. “Hey, cowboy,” she called. “What are you looking at?” She might have said the same thing before last night, but now it didn’t seem the same.

  He gave her a guarded smile. “How’s the cleaning going?”

  Becca shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She stood on the spot where the cow had given birth a week before. There was no sign that anything so miraculous had happened here. There was no sign in Cade’s eyes that they’d kissed, either. “It’s good.” She raised a hand to brush away a lock of hair from her face. Cade looked away from the movement, as though she was doing something incredibly private. What was going on? Had she completely hallucinated the night before? He’d devoured her like he was starving and she was the only thing that could satiate him.

  The tension grew at the back of her neck, pressing harder and harder until she hefted the handle of her broom in the air, slung it over her shoulder, and moved out of the stall.

  “Where are you headed?” Cade’s question bounced off her shoulders while she hung the broom in its spot.

  “Taking a break.” She gave him a quick smile. So much for acting normal.

  Out in the sun, Becca tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Mistake—all that did was
bring back memories of last night in supersaturated color. She headed toward the house. Maybe a turn in the rocking chair would help her. Just for a few minutes.

  But as she approached the back, something caught her eye. She stopped dead in the middle of the yard, cocking her head to the side.

  The farmhouse’s neat wood siding was all painted white, but some of it was…different.

  What was it?

  She got closer, circling the house once, then twice. On the third time around, she figured it out. The siding itself. The paint itself was consistent, but the siding beneath it wasn’t. It was only obvious in this particular light. If she hadn’t taken this break, she might not have seen it. It wasn’t all the siding, either—only some parts of the house. Seemingly random parts, too. It wasn’t an added-on room, or a new second floor. Becca went around a fourth time, then a fifth. Why hadn’t this been disclosed in the selling documents? Why had the house been rebuilt—or re-sided, at least? Curiosity tingled on the backs of her hands.

  Becca went back into the barn at a light jog. Cade wasn’t there. She found him in the stables, standing in the center aisle, talking to Danny. Danny looked at her over Cade’s shoulders and raised his eyebrows. “Something up, Bec?”

  Cade’s broad shoulders stiffened, but she came over anyway. “Yes. No.” She let out a laugh that didn’t sound quite genuine. “I’ve been walking around the house.”

  Both men gave her a look.

  “And I noticed there are pieces of new siding on the outside.” The atmosphere shifted, thickening. “Was there a siding problem? Or were there rebuilds? Nothing like this was disclosed in the sale sheet. I think I’d remember if it had been.”

  Danny clapped a hand on Cade’s shoulder. “I’m going to go check on the cows.” The two of them exchanged a look, and Becca’s heart beat faster. “Call me if you need anything.” He went out of the stables at a clip.

  Becca watched him go. When she turned back to Cade, he was watching her, rubbing a hand slowly across the back of his neck. “Guess we could go for a walk.”

 

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