A Rancher's Love

by Vivian Arend

  Dare: I’m so glad I have all boys. How did you even know what to arrange?

  Ginny: Are you kidding? Have you forgotten Sasha and her opinions that quickly?

  Dare: What was I thinking? So, pedicures? Manicures?

  Ginny: Pedicures were labelled “icky” by three out of four of the younger participants, so Madison came up with the brilliant idea of tracing our feet on a piece of paper and giving ourselves virtual pedicures.

  Dare: Get out. That sounds fun.

  Ginny: I’ll send you a picture of everything later.

  Dare: I’d love to see them. Also, speaking of pictures… Have you made any headway on the strange message from your parents?

  Ginny sighed. She’d been ignoring that part of the problem. I sent you a picture of it, didn’t I?

  Dare: Nope. Shoot me a copy, and I’ll give it some thought.

  Ginny: Don’t show it around yet, though, okay?

  She wasn’t sure why, but it felt wrong to be flashing the page around when it was a present to her, and she couldn’t even explain what it meant.

  Dare sent an eye roll emoji. Of course, I’ll keep it private. Silly rabbit.

  Ginny: You can show that cowboy who knocked you up. This isn’t a keep-secrets-from-him situation.

  Dare: You are nothing but trouble, but I love you, Truth.

  Ginny: I love you, Dare.

  Ginny slipped into the greenhouse early the next morning, breathing deep and once again soaking the sensation in to her very soul.

  There were few signs of Devjeet and Janae preparing for the season, but it was still too early to start any seedlings. And they’d obviously left the place in tip-top condition the previous fall.

  Even with a lot of work to do it felt good to be in that familiar place. Ginny wandered slowly, remembering previous years, planning what she would grow once the seeds arrived.

  She did some research for her idea of branching out into natural cleansers and cosmetics.

  She was at the far end of the greenhouse, peering at the snow-covered ground outside the plexiglass wall when a small sound echoed. She spun in time for Tucker to catch her around the hips and lift her, pressing his lips to hers and taking her mouth in a hungry kiss.

  It had been far too long. She jammed her fingers into his hair, his cowboy hat flying as she gave back as good as she got. Tongues tangling, breath growing erratic. She tucked her legs around the back of his body, and the heat between them continued to rise.

  He twisted and aimed for the nearest bench, dropping to his knees with her butt landing on the low surface. His breathing heavy, one hand slipped under her shirt as he hungrily retook her lips and palmed her breast at the same time.

  Not what she’d expected. Not at all, but also very welcome as she caught fistfuls of his shirt and jerked it free from his jeans until she could put her hands on his bare skin. She pressed her fingers over the rigid planes of his muscles, dragged her fingernails back and drew a gasp from his lips.

  He shoved her bra aside, lifted the front of her shirt, and leaned back just far enough to stare at her semi-naked in the low lights. “Dammit, Ginny. This wasn’t what I planned.”

  “It’s perfect. Don’t stop,” she ordered.

  His serious expression turned smoky hot as he reached for the button on her jeans, popped it open, dropped her zipper, and pressed her back on the bench far enough to haul the fabric to her ankles.

  Then he rose over her like some earthborn God, looking down on her partly naked form. “Hard and fast, yes?”

  “Hell, yes,” she agreed.

  But if she’d bet he would simply free his cock and drive her into the bench, she’d have lost. What he did was dip his head between her knees then rise up so that her ankles were tangled in her jeans on his back and his head was right there over her sex.

  He grinned. “My favourite breakfast.”

  Ginny laughed and then moaned, because he dove in as if he were starving, his mouth on her sex doing terribly wonderful things. She was trapped. The fabric around her ankles kept her locked in position so there was nothing she could do, no way to retreat from the rapid strokes of his tongue and his fingers sliding between her folds, dragging forward a release far quicker than she thought possible.

  “Oh. My. God.” Ginny involuntarily tightened her fingers in his hair, and for all she knew she tore out chunks of it, but she was coming so hard, her legs squeezed around his head, back arched, and stars floated in front of her eyes.

  Then he was up, leaning back so the jeans peeled off one of her legs. A moment later he was covered, and covering her, the thick width of his cock pressing her open as her body continued to tighten.

  Tucker placed his hands on the bench on either side of her head. Her feet were draped over his shoulders, and she was obscenely, wonderfully open. He met her gaze and pushed all the way in. Withdrew and did it again. Faster this time, harder.

  It felt so damn good. Ginny closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Look at me.” The order came out harsh and deep. “Look at us.”

  Ginny met his gaze again, fingers digging into his torso as he increased his pace, thrusting in until they were on fire, and she was once again exploding. A rocket about to be consumed by the dazzling show of lights and whirligigs and whatever the hell else happened when a firecracker went off, because her brain was trickling out of her ears and she could barely breathe with the pleasure of it all.

  Tucker made a tortured noise, hips frozen against her, the heat and rhythm of his response pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

  It took a while to come down.

  They ended up with Tucker sitting on the bench and Ginny in his lap, and neither of them completely dressed or in their right minds. Which was just fine, truth be told.

  She laid her head against his shoulder, stroking lazy fingers over his chin. “Good morning.”

  He made a small sound of amusement. “Morning.”

  Too damn funny. “Come on. That deserves a good, doesn’t it?”

  His lips twitched. “The men are going to think I’m out of my gourd if I go around saying that it’s a fucking fantastic morning, which would be even more accurate.”

  Ginny laughed. But she had to agree he was probably right.

  Tucker hadn’t meant to fuck her brains out. It seemed that, when it came to Ginny, his plans had a way of getting adjusted last minute by very impulsive ideas.

  His lack of control was disconcerting. Still, he could hardly object to how they’d spent the past moments.

  Only he’d been spending a lot of time thinking about his own decisions. Prompting Caleb and his uncle to plan wisely had been the kick in the backside he needed as well.

  While Ginny had a valid point about the two of them and their timing, it was also bullshit. He could deal with fallout and questions regarding ranch hands assuming he got the job because of his relationships.

  The only thing stopping him from throwing the keep-it-quiet plan to the wind was that he didn’t want anything to blow back on her. That was his biggest concern. People could be assholes, and he couldn’t be around to protect her from all random snide comments.

  The one thing he had decided was the announcement that they were a couple was not going to come out of the clear blue sky. Which made it all the easier to begin his own step-by-step plans. If Operation Prove It was the connection he and Ginny had to find their footing in this new reality, he had his own prove it situation when it came to her.

  How did he protect a strong woman? How did he support and listen and still take away any burdens she didn’t need to bear?

  Most importantly, how did he keep him and Ginny from becoming his parents, with neither of them ever truly happy because of agreeing to half-baked compromises?

  All of that rattled in his brain as he sat there, sexual endorphins still rushing his system. The weight of her in his lap was perfect, and heat wrapped around them in a mix of tenderness and lingering sexual satisfaction.

  S
he dragged her fingers along his jaw. “We should get dressed. Or I should turn up the heat in the greenhouse so we don’t catch cold.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” he teased. “Do you really turn the heat up enough in here that you garden naked?”

  Ginny laughed as she slid off of his lap and put her bits and pieces back in order. “What do you mean, do I turn up the heat? You’re dangerous, Mister Hottie. Good thing we don’t have any seedlings up yet, or we would’ve steamed the bunch of them.”

  “Mr. Hottie is not an approved nickname,” he said dryly. He glanced around as he did up his zipper and tucked his shirt in. “Steamy hot sex notwithstanding, it still feels wintery in here.”

  “We don’t need to turn the temperature up until closer to when we need to put stuff in the ground, and that’s not for a while still.” Ginny linked her fingers with his as they strolled back toward the main door. “Did you need something? Other than a booty call?”

  Shit. That’s exactly what he didn’t want her to think. He stopped and pulled her against him, lifting her chin so their gazes met straight on. “Don’t think the fact that we get on like a house on fire sexually means that’s all there is to this.”

  Her head tilted slightly, and she cupped her palm against his face. “Sorry. I was being flippant. I know we’ve stepped beyond just sex.”

  It had never been just sex for him, but now wasn’t the time to say that.

  Instead, he finally got his shit together and did what he came to do in the first place. “There’s talk about heading out to Rough Cut dancing in a couple of days. I want you to show up. No staying home and watching Disney with your nieces.”

  “Tucker, we can’t—”

  “I’m not taking you as my date, but I want you there.” It was a compromise he could work with, and it fit nicely into his plan for slowly making it clear Ginny was his. That he was hers.

  That they were together.

  Thankfully, Ginny seemed to catch onto part of the idea. She nodded. “I think my girls were talking about going out. I’ll make sure it’s the same night, so there will be plenty of reasons for us to be in the same place at the same time. Oh, and we need an official Operation Prove It meeting soon.”

  A rumble of a truck stopping outside the greenhouse snapped Tucker into full attention. “I should go, but I’ll send you a message later. I have an idea of where we can meet.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, going up on tiptoes. “Send it secret messenger if you need to, but I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Tucker dragged himself away from her warmth and headed out the side door just as voices drifted from the main entrance. Ginny greeted someone who had come for a visit.

  He dragged his feet, though, as he headed back to the barns. He hated not having their relationship out in the open.

  It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough distractions to keep him busy. Between Ashton and Caleb, Tucker began the work in earnest of slowly getting to know all the tasks his uncle kept rolling as foreman for Silver Stone.

  After nearly fourteen years of being in charge, Caleb was definitely the manager. He and his brothers set the direction for the ranch operations, but it was Ashton who made sure everything got done.

  Like a juggler keeping a dozen balls in the air while spinning plates, and the entire time keeping his cool—

  As the days passed, Tucker admired the man more and more.

  “You keep staring at me. Do I have mud on my face?” his uncle asked gruffly as they stopped in the mess hall for a quick bite after a day of looking over every piece of machinery on the property.

  Tucker shrugged. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. Just thinking how grateful I am that you’re willing to stick around for the next while.”

  Ashton glared back. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” Tucker protested. “How the hell did you get from me saying I’m happy you’ll be around to I’ve done something wrong?”

  “Pretty much what you used to do. Uncle Ashton, you are so good with horses. By the way, I think I broke my saddle.” Ashton attempted to imitate a childish Tucker, which just made Tucker snort all the harder.

  “Please. Do not take up acting.”

  Ashton lifted his chin. “I’ll have you know the Heart Falls Star reported my rendition of a goat was one of the best in the Not-So-Nutcracker performance this past December.”

  Video of which Luke had shown Tucker on the sly, the two of them howling with laughter. Definitely not the thing to share with his uncle.

  “I’m sure you were a fine goat.”

  Ashton glowered. “Are you poking at me, boy?”

  “Would I ever do such a thing?” Absolutely deadpanned.

  His uncle harrumphed again, but a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

  Tucker was getting ready for bed, well pleased with the work that he had done on the sly up in the hayloft that evening. A secret that he couldn’t wait to let Ginny know about.

  His phone rang, a text message arriving simultaneously.

  He put his clothes back on and hurried to the barn where Alex and Luke were in the stall with the pregnant strawberry roan.

  She was agitated, stepping uncomfortably with her head wavering from side to side. Luke did his best to calm her while Alex came forward to get Tucker up to speed. “This is early, and she’s definitely not right.”

  “You call the veterinarian?”

  “On his way.”

  Luke spoke quietly, soothing the mare. “Quiet, darlin’. You’ll be okay.”

  Tucker moved carefully, sliding a hand along the mare’s extended sides as he checked her. Her skin rippled under his hand, twitching as he passed.

  This wasn’t Tucker’s area of expertise, but he knew enough to agree it wasn’t something simple gone wrong.

  The three of them worked together best they could to ease the mare’s discomfort. Tucker was very relieved when the barn door swung open in the distance, announcing the arrival of the expert.

  Only it wasn’t Josiah Ryder’s familiar face that appeared. Instead of the sturdy veterinarian who had become a Heart Falls mainstay, it was the far smaller woman he’d hired as an assistant.

  Yvette Wright strode forward with an easy confidence though. Laying a hand on Luke’s back, she spoke quietly to the horse. “Hey, beautiful. Sounds as if you need a little help.”

  “Where’s Josiah?” Alex asked.

  “Busy.” Her gaze danced over the horse as she shrugged her way out of her coat then pressed it into Alex’s arms. “Here. Make yourself useful.”

  Tucker blinked at the change in her tone of voice from sweetness with the horse to dry disdain for Alex.

  He examined the other man’s face. Alex stared after Yvette with something akin to puppy love.

  Oh boy. Tangled webs always showed up at the most awkward times.

  It only took a few minutes before Yvette was ready. “Tucker, come help me,” she ordered quietly. She gave him directions that he followed explicitly as she slipped a hand into the mare, confusion slowly shifting into comprehension.

  “Well, sweetheart, no wonder you don’t feel so good. Your babies are a tangled mess. I’ll get you straightened out as soon as I can,” Yvette promised.

  It took an hour and a half, and by the end of it Tucker felt as if his arms had been put through a wringer. He had no idea how Yvette stayed on her feet, working inside the horse to untangle the limbs of a rare set of viable twins.

  By the time the tiny beasts arrived, the crowd around the pen had expanded by a few. Ashton had shown up. Luke had contacted Kelli, who had obviously sent a message to Ginny in case she wanted to get in on the action.

  Ginny brought a thermos of chai, and once Yvette had washed up, she wrapped her hands around the mug Ginny handed her and took grateful sips. “Thank you. That hits the spot.”

  “Glad to help,” Ginny said quietly.

  Inside the pen, Strawberry Delight was now resting comfortably
, one of the tiny foals fast asleep as the other nursed.

  “That’s a sight we don’t see too often,” Ashton said with approval.

  Tucker couldn’t take his gaze off of Ginny’s face. The wonder in her eyes, her happiness as she glanced between the newborn fillies and Yvette. The young woman finished her drink, and Ginny moved ahead of her, grabbing her coat and helping the veterinarian into it.

  Constantly helping. Constantly aware of others—

  “It’s turned out to be a good evening,” Luke said, coming forward to shake Yvette’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Yvette dipped her chin. “Glad I could help.”

  Alex moved forward as well, hand outstretched. “That was wonderful to see.”

  She eyed his hand as if expecting a joy buzzer, then shook it firmly as well. “Thanks.”

  It looked as if Alex would say something else, but Tucker stepped in. Exhaustion was written all over Yvette. “Come on. I’ll get you home,” he offered. “Alex will drive your truck for you.”

  Yvette blinked. “Oh, no. That’s fine.”

  But when an enormous yawn escaped her, Tucker held out a hand and tugged her forward. “Don’t fight it. I’d offer Josiah the same deal. Honest.”

  Which meant instead of finding Ginny, Tucker finished the evening by acting grateful chauffeur to one very tired but thrilled veterinarian.

  She laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes, sighing softly, the sound happy and content. “That makes it all worth it, you know? The moments when you’re not sure things will work out, the mental questions if you’re doing the right thing, and even the fear.” She glanced at him quickly. “Don’t tell Josiah I said that. About being afraid.”

  Tucker snorted. “He’d understand completely. No way any of us on the ranch get through a day without being afraid of something. Not when we’re really trying to live to the fullest.”

  She nodded and yawned again. “Pretty little fillies. I’m glad they’re going to make it.”

  On the trip home, Tucker and Alex sat in silence until they were nearly in sight of Silver Stone.