A Rancher's Love

by Vivian Arend

  “I can handle that,” Ginny promised. She laid a hand on her sister-in-law’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m family. You don’t need to guest me up.”

  Tamara wrapped her in a big hug. “I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you better. I’ve always enjoyed the time we’ve had in the past.”

  “Me, too,” Ginny said honestly. “Plus, we need to reminisce in Caleb’s presence about how you were a total badass and took him to the ground the first time you two met.”

  The burst of laughter from Tamara was heartfelt, and Ginny’s optimism returned. Maybe this coming back to the family fold would be easier than she’d hoped.

  But she was glad to slip away a few minutes later. Away from the rumble of laughter and the sheer presence of people and back into the quiet of the winter night. Ginny grabbed her backpack from her truck and wandered slowly, taking in all the visible changes to the place she’d grown up but been away from for years.

  The trailer Tamara had sent her to sleep in was a newer one, parked neatly beside the south barn. Maybe twenty-seven feet long, it looked sturdy yet cozy.

  Three goats in their nearby pen watched with wild curiosity, and Ginny saluted as she passed. “As you were, fellow mischief-makers.”

  She opened and closed the trailer door as quietly as possible though. No use in warning the goats they had a neighbour, or the hellions would find a way to break out and come haunt her in the night.

  The trailer smelled strangely good. She’d expected the air to be slightly stale, so the unusual scent was both a relief and a mystery. Bergamot? Coffee? Those two for sure, but something else familiar that she vaguely remembered…

  Tired enough to simply want to crash, Ginny stopped in the small living space to get ready. She stripped off her pants, then slipped her bra from under her top, leaving only her oversized tank to sleep in.

  “Be free,” she mumbled softly, taking a deep breath to enjoy the lack of pressure on her shoulders from the bra straps. Big boobs were a pain at times, literally. “I crack me up.”

  Her eyes adjusted to the pale glow coming in the window from the yard light, so she didn’t bother with turning on the overhead light. She shuffled toward the bedroom area, suddenly wary when a strange, out-of-place sound rumbled her direction.

  Ginny cautiously peered around the corner.

  Holy shit.

  The bed indeed had sheets as Tamara had told her, but they were messed up, scrunched into semi-piles over the long, muscular form of a naked man. He lay face down, his butt on prime display. The edge of fear that had swept in vanished.

  Ginny knew her mystery man.

  Lying before her was Tucker Stewart, nephew to Silver Stone’s long time foreman, her older brother Luke’s companion in crime during the summers while they were growing up, and her own personal kryptonite.

  What she should do was back away and find somewhere else to sleep.

  What she did was stand motionless for far, far too long, simply staring.

  Time had only made him more delicious. His face was mostly scrunched into the pillow, but his lips were visible. Strong and full, they parted slightly, a soft rumble an uncharitable person would describe as a snore escaping him.

  She didn’t need to see his eyes to remember the pale blue shade. Didn’t need to see him awake to recall his all too brief smiles, always accompanied by a spark in his eyes, as if he were astonished that she’d pulled an expression from him other than his usual gruff visage.

  Nope, memory painted plenty of pictures for the parts she couldn’t see. The parts she could? Holy mother. Tucker had packed on muscle in the three years since she’d seen him last.

  Triceps defined even in sleep, his visible forearm was dusted with a faint layer of light brown hair. His big hand pressed to the mattress where his strong fingers were splayed as if ready to cup her breast.

  His big, talented hands. Ones Ginny had enjoyed feeling him run all over her. Broad shoulders that she’d dug her nails into as they’d shot together toward a sweaty, dirty, overwhelmingly pleasurable peak.

  The curve of his hip teased her vision, one thigh pulled up to protect more delicate body parts. The hollow of shadow that hid his groin made her smile and lift her focus to the star of the show. His ass, the sheet shoved far enough aside to showcase every muscular dip and the straight row of dots scarring his right butt cheek.

  Which was how she’d recognized him. Ahem.

  She’d not only enjoyed seeing his naked ass up close and personal before, but she’d been there when her older brother Luke had given Tucker that scar. Twelve years old and pretending they were hosting a magical duel, Tucker had reacted to Luke’s spell with determination, throwing himself backward only to unknowingly land full force on a rake.

  Tucker was no longer that youngster. Nor the teenager she’d followed after like a love-struck puppy. Not even the serious young man she’d finally convinced she was grown up enough to know what she wanted—which included wild, vigorous sex with him.

  Long lean lines, bare skin she wanted to touch…

  She must have made a noise, because he woke. His body tightened, which did wonderful things to his ass.

  He rolled. Ginny forced her gaze off the tempting bits—parts. That was not a bit—coming into prime display, shifting to meet his eyes.

  Tucker blinked, then blinked again, as a dark smolder twisted into place.

  “Ginny Stone. Well, well, well. Merry Christmas to me.”

  2

  What a tempting present to show up on his doorstep.

  Tucker Stewart curled upright, taking his time to enjoy the vision standing motionless in the doorway of his trailer bedroom.

  Luscious was the first word that struck, followed rapidly by beautiful and then holy fucking hell, because he was totally up shit creek without a paddle.

  It had been three years since he’d seen her in person. From eight years old onward, he’d spent most of his summers at Silver Stone ranch, in theory to spend time with his uncle. The truth was probably a lot more tangled than that, but it had meant he had years to build friendships with the Stone children. Especially Luke and Walker, but also the four-years-younger-than-him Ginny and her best friend, Dare.

  A few years in the not-so-distant past, something far more physical than simple friendship had developed with the woman before him.

  Pictures of Ginny had shown up on his phone plenty over the past couple of years, forwarded in notes from Luke or Walker as they tried to keep him up to date with where and what their little sister was doing. The messages had made him ache and made him happy. Except for the timeframe where she’d bleached her hair some godawful pink and white shade, and all he could think of was shaking her and telling her to stop messing with perfection.

  Thankfully, her hair was now back to its natural deep brown tone, long and curling around her pale shoulders.

  Natural, like the full, heavy breasts pressed against the thin material of her tank top. He kept going before he got hypnotized by her nipples tightening under the fabric.

  The top stopped just past her hips, the icy blue of her underwear peeking from underneath like a tempting X marks the spot.

  Long legs with ample curves and muscles all the way down to where the pale pink polish on her toes highlighted the delicacy of her feet.

  Damn if he didn’t want to eat her up one bite at a time. He’d start at the bottom, get lost in the middle for a long while, then gorge himself on her full lips when he finally made it that far.

  A mouth that twisted at the corners more and more the longer he stared.

  She folded her arms over that gorgeous chest and met his gaze. “I’m pretty sure my sister-in-law didn’t mean for me to find a naked man in my bed. Either that, or she’s now my favourite person in the whole wide world.”

  “Which sister-in-law?”

  “Tamara.”

  “She probably doesn't know I’m here,” Tucker admitted. Being amused was dangerous, but the sensation was pretty unavoid
able around Ginny. The damn woman had a way of making him lose all mental clarity. “You mind if I get dressed, or do you plan on joining me?”

  He’d meant it as a joke, but from the way her eyes lit up—fuck.

  Nope. Cutting this one off at the pass…

  “Back up, Ginny, and let me get some clothes on,” Tucker ordered.

  Instead, she stepped closer, gaze dropping to dangerous territory. “But I’m ready for bed.”

  The husky words stroked his cock as firmly as if she’d used her hands.

  Screw this. Ignoring the fact he was naked as a jaybird, he moved decisively. Tossed back the covers and slid toward her. A second later he was on his feet, the fronts of their torsos in full contact. Which meant his instantly hard dick pressed to the softness of her belly, and he flashed back to times and places that should never have happened.

  But damn if he didn’t relive them far, far too often.

  Control. Get your goddamned self under control.

  He caught her shoulders and kept her right there, skin to skin, heat to heat. It was torture of the most delectable kind. Especially when she stared with that hint of challenge and bravado that pushed his every damn button.

  “Having you under me would make for one hell of a perfect evening. Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen.” Tucker trailed his knuckles over her cheek slowly, then traced her lush mouth with a fingertip. “Only you’d better hope no one in your family gets it into their heads to stop in, because I’m not about to lie to their faces if we get caught burning up the sheets. No more keeping this thing between us quiet.”

  The sigh that escaped rocked her entire body, but she stepped back and let him pass. “You play mean,” she complained.

  “You’re the one who rightly insisted anything we did was our business and no one else’s,” he reminded her. “But secrets don’t stay secret if we’re caught in flagrante delicto.”

  “You’re right. Also, stop showing off your damn intellect.” But she snickered, gaze still firmly on him as he pulled on a pair of old sweatpants that would have to double as pyjama bottoms. “Looking good, Tucker.”

  He snorted. “Stop objectifying my brain.”

  “Ha. It’s the least of your assets, and you know it.”

  “Enjoy the Full Monty?”

  She let out a forlorn sigh. “Every damn time.”

  They grinned at each other, and when he opened his arms wide, she dove into them, this time squealing like a little girl. The contact wasn’t sexual but back on track with friends and family and exactly where they needed to be.

  Exactly where Tucker hated that they needed to be.

  The only good part about being here was being closer than ever before to fixing the travesty of him and Ginny being a no-go for more than clandestine fun. He needed a little more time to update his master plan before he said anything.

  No use in rushing before he had everything lined up properly.

  Ginny laid her head on his chest. “I missed you. Jerk. You’re shitty at keeping in touch.”

  “Me? You were the one on the other side of the world. I wasn’t messing with time zones and all that bullshit.”

  She squeezed him again then sat in the chair against the wall. “What are you doing here? And I don’t mean the trailer, but at the ranch?”

  “Technological screw up.” He settled kitty corner, reaching into his gym bag and pulling out a sweatshirt. He spoke as he dragged it over his head. “Uncle Ashton sent a text at three a.m. that said I needed to get my butt out here as quickly as I could.”

  Ginny blinked in surprise, her expression immediately sliding to worry. “Is he okay? I didn’t see him in the house, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He’s usually around on Christmas Day, not the evening before.”

  “He’s fine,” Tucker assured her. “Well, a little less fine after I shouted at him.”

  It had been the weirdest thing. Tucker’s phone shut off between midnight and five except for emergency contacts, and his uncle was one of the few who could get a hold of him no matter what.

  Ginny was another, but he wasn’t going to tell her that now.

  “I tried to get in touch with him, but no answer. After half an hour of fucking around, I figured I may as well get on the road. I waited until six o’clock here to contact Luke, which meant I’d gotten nearly four hours of driving behind me.”

  “You drove all the way from Winnipeg since this morning?” Ginny shook her head. “Damn, I’m sorry I woke you. I hate anything longer than three hours, and you did over thirteen.”

  “Roads were good, so I made it a little faster than that.” He kept a straight face. “We don’t need to tell my uncle about that part.”

  “Where is Ashton?”

  “He’s fine. Luke couldn’t find him at first, and he wasn’t answering his phone. Finally showed up after lunch, and Luke said he was completely surprised to hear I was on the way. He swears he never sent any text.”

  Ginny pulled a sweater from her backpack and tugged it over her shoulders. “Well, I’m glad he’s okay, but that’s odd.”

  “Very. But since I was already mostly here, Ashton told me to come for the holidays.”

  “I hope you don’t need to turn around and drive back in a couple of days.”

  He’d done it before, but getting to enjoy an extended stay was good for many reasons. “I contacted my boss while I was driving. J&R Stables gave me two weeks off. Said they’d decided to run with a limited staff anyway since the place needs some upgrades done before customers can return. They were having some electrical problems, so it’s probably a good thing.”

  “Well, that is good news.” She covered her mouth, but the yawn still escaped. “I’m sorry. I’d complain it’s been a long day, but mine wasn’t anywhere near as bad as yours.”

  “It’s not a contest,” Tucker drawled.

  “Ha. Tell that to Luke.”

  Which made something inside him happy. After many summers spent together, Luke was a good, good friend, but they did tend to bring out the competitive nature in each other.

  Her eyes lit up. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s like a summer reunion, only in the middle of winter. Without sunscreen.”

  He gestured to the bedroom. “You need sleep. You’re less coherent than usual.”

  Ginny paused. “I thought you didn’t want to get caught in the same bed.”

  “We won’t. You’ll take the bed, and I’ll sleep out here.”

  “Bullshit.” Ginny rose, reaching for her coat. “I’ll go find a different trailer to sleep in.”

  “Bullshit,” he echoed back. “This one is all warmed up, which took half of forever, by the way. It’s damn cold out there, and it’s a waste of time. You get the bed, I’m out here. Then it’s all good when someone sneaks around in the morning to surprise you.”

  Ginny pooh-poohed that idea. “They’ll be too busy staring at the Christmas tree and stuffing their faces with Tamara’s cinnamon buns to wonder where I am.”

  She tried to stifle another yawn.

  Exasperated, and closing in on his own limits, Tucker caught her by the shoulders and marched her back into the bedroom. “Sleep. There will be plenty of time to torment me in the coming days.”

  “You should have the bed,” she said, but when he glared at her, she tossed aside her sweater and crawled onto the mattress.

  Tucker watched her ass. There was no earthly way to resist.

  Her head hit the pillow and she tugged ineffectively at the covers. He gave up and helped, tucking her in. Avoiding accidental contact with any hotspots—he was up for fucking sainthood after this.

  Ginny’s eyes opened to half-mast as she licked her lips. “You’re sweet. You know, you like to act all gruff and stern, but really, you’re a total pushover.”

  “Shut up,” he said with a laugh, kneeling on the bed beside her so he could lean close and press a kiss to her forehead. “No spilling secrets, remember?”

  “Okay.” She watched h
im with those big eyes. “Tucker?”

  “Yeah?” He wouldn’t bother to make a bed. Just crash on the floor.

  “While you’re here, can we have sex?”

  He swore softly, instantly aroused.

  A laugh drifted upward as she stretched lazily, breasts pressing the blanket into dangerous curves. “I won’t tell. That will also stay our little secret.”

  “Go to sleep, you evil woman.”

  “That wasn’t a no,” she pointed out, the words fading on a soft exhale.

  Tucker firmly closed the door between them. He tossed the quilt on the floor and collapsed onto it. Between the drive and the demon woman sound asleep less than ten feet from him, he was more than exhausted.

  He was also done for, because she was right. He hadn’t told her no. In fact, the first chance he got, every wicked thing they could dream up was totally on the menu.

  Keeping secrets might eventually kick his ass, but he would walk through hell for another taste of Ginny Stone.

  On the edge of waking up, Ginny snuggled deeper into the cozy warmth around her when the trailer door opened. The faint metallic screech of hinges protesting the cold loud enough to carry through the thin panel door of the bedroom.

  Her brother Luke’s voice rang out a moment later. “Tucker? What the hell are you doing on the floor? Is something wrong with the bed?”

  A low groan rose from Tucker. “Close the door. You’re letting out all the heat.”

  “You must have been wrecked last night.” Luke chuckled softly. “You forget what a bed looks like?”

  Ginny hurriedly crawled off the mattress and made her way to the door. She swung it open before Tucker could answer.

  Luke’s gaze shot to her, his eyes widening for a second before he slammed a hand in front of his face as if blocking a dangerous sight. “Dammit, Ginny, you’re indecent. Put some clothes on before I go blind.”