Montana Mavericks: a hot cowboy collection

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Juliet closed the book. “These are incredible. Do you also work in oils?”

  Hope flared to life in Sophie’s chest. She didn’t even try to quash it. “Yes. Watercolors, too.”

  “You have the showing if you want it.” Juliet gave her a slightly apologetic grin.

  “She wants it,” Loni chimed in as both Madge and Mrs. Shiller clapped.

  “Now wait a minute.” Sophie rose from the table. “A project like that would take a year, maybe two. I’m only here for another week, ladies.” She carried her empty plate to the sink to rinse off and felt the silent communication going on behind her.

  “Will you at least think about it?” Loni asked.

  “I’ll think about it.” Sophie wouldn’t be able to think about anything else. She kinked her neck to the side before turning around. A real art showing—of her work. The thought was beyond anything she’d dared to dream about.

  If she wasn’t careful, however, Maverick Montana would become too wonderful to leave. She had to leave. Right?

  …

  Jake found Sophie sketching in an alcove in Shiller’s backyard. She sat on a stone platform surrounded by rose bushes, climbing flowers, and greenery, looking like a sexy forest sprite. “I decline your offer,” he said softly, tucking his hands in his jeans.

  She started and glanced up, her eyes refocusing. “What offer?”

  “When you said we’re over last night. I decline.” He’d spent a restless night trying to figure out how to change her mind, and finally decided the direct approach would be best.

  Her grin flashed a flirty dimple. “It wasn’t an offer—it was a statement.”

  That dimple roared a hunger through him that weakened his knees and hardened his cock. “Then I reject your statement.”

  She closed the sketchbook, her gaze dropping to the bulge in his jeans. “Doesn’t look like rejection to me.”

  Was she being coy? “Don’t underestimate me, Soph.” It was only fair to give her warning, even while claws of need ripped through him.

  She blinked back at him, her eyes darkening to cobalt. “Look who’s talking.” Desire washed her delicate cheekbones with pink, matching the cute skirt that only went to her knees. Those cowboy boots made her legs look impossibly long.

  He could find happiness with this woman. The thought flew out of nowhere, and he batted it away. For now, he just wanted a taste. So he knelt between her legs, his palms sliding up her thighs.

  Her eyes widened, and she grabbed his hands. “We’re outside.”

  Ah. He liked her off-balance. “I know.”

  “Jake.” Her lips parted, lush now with the arousal he could see running through her.

  “I do like how you say my name.” He shook off her hands and continued his journey, his shoulders forcing her knees farther apart.

  “I, ah, don’t know.” Her eyes flicked around the peaceful backyard, even as her nipples hardened beneath his gaze.

  “I do.” Her scent was driving him crazy. “All you have to do is say yes.” If she pushed him away, he’d need to go jump in the lake go cool off.

  She gingerly touched his chin, her gaze blazing. “Every moment with you is something. Yes.”

  Ah, she was a sweetheart. He leaned in and captured one nub in his mouth, sucking through her shirt. No bra. His head might just explode. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she gasped.

  His other hand found her, hot and wet. He groaned around her nipple, and her thighs trembled against his arms. She was about as perfect as a woman could be. He abruptly released her, then lifted her shirt over her head.

  “Well, okay. I guess we can see each other just until I leave town,” she said breathlessly. She fell back onto her elbows, her smile a siren’s song. Apparently, for this stolen moment in time, she was willing to forget her vow to leave him.

  Keeping her gaze, allowing her to see the hunger raging through him, he slowly unbuckled his belt. He wanted to bury himself in her so deep she’d never consider leaving him. He kicked the jeans and briefs to the rosebushes and slid on a condom.

  Feminine awareness, feminine strength, glowed hot and bright in her dangerous eyes. Teasing him, she slowly reached under her skirt and slid her black panties off her legs. Then she smiled.

  It was the smile that did it.

  Moving so quickly she yelped, he grabbed her up, turned to sit, and slowly, so slowly, lowered her onto his raging dick. She breathed out and yanked his shirt over his head. He rumbled with pleasure when her palms met his pecs.

  No way would he go for easy and gentle right now. Later. Much later. Right now, he was burning for her. Her tight body wrapped around him, so much heat, so much grip. Grasping her hips, he lifted her, and then plunged her back down.

  Pleasure sparked along his entire shaft. He dropped his head to her neck, nipping.

  Nothing felt as good as this moment—as this woman taking him, milking him. His balls drew tight against the base of his cock. She gave a hungry moan and arched.

  He yanked her up and back down, snarling at the dark pleasure he felt being so deep inside her. For two heartbeats, he forced himself to stop, to remain still. To just feel.

  Her sex clenched him, vibrating around his shaft, rippling over him. “I’d give anything to stay inside you forever—just you and me, feeling you come over and over again,” he murmured against her skin.

  A long, winding shiver moved up her spine. She whispered his name against his neck as she lifted up and shoved back down.

  His hands tightened on her hips, and he set a furious rhythm. Harder, faster, blinding strokes slammed her against him, his thrusts deep and sure. A roaring filled his ears. Heat clawed down his spine to flare in his balls.

  She stiffened, crying his name, her internal walls gripping him like a vise. He exploded, lightening flashing through him. Deep, violent spurts tore from him as he held her close.

  Finally he relaxed, his knees going weak. His face dropped to the haven where her neck met her shoulder. She panted and huddled against him, her heart beating so rapidly he could feel it in his chest.

  There was no way he could let her go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The week sped by as Sophie finished the design for Willa’s Garden to the council’s satisfaction. Jake won his local trial and was asked to consult on a trial in D.C. He’d called on his way to the airport to let her know.

  Pleasure had filled her that he’d checked in with her before leaving. Just like they were a couple. During that week, it had seemed as if they were. Quick lunches, a few dinners around his hectic schedule, with a hot, hungry cowboy taking her to new heights in his bed afterward. Man, she was lost.

  Without Jake around, Sophie used the time to think instead of sleep. She was sketching the porch from the swing one morning when her phone rang.

  “How’s my favorite girl?” Her uncle’s gruff voice charmed through the line.

  “Uncle Nathan! How are you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. Just got word—your commissioners denied the development and golf course,” he said.

  Defeat slumped her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” Would they go bankrupt now? Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to be furious with Jake, but if what he said was true, she couldn’t blame him for exposing the group. Though he certainly hadn’t needed to use her to do it.

  “Not your problem, sweetheart. Had an interesting phone call from a Jake Lodge, however,” Nathan said.

  “Really?” Suspicion laced her tone.

  “Offered to buy your design for a fifty-acre parcel next to some casino,” Nathan affirmed

  Sophie kicked the wooden floor so the swing started to move. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope. Of course it’ll have to be reconfigured for a different space. He also said that you staying on was a condition of the sale, however.” Curiosity filled
her uncle’s tone now.

  “Son of a bitch.” Her temper ignited until her throat closed. Sure, she had feelings for the lawyer, but nobody manipulated her.

  Her uncle chuckled. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “What? Pleased that he’s trying to run my life? Trying to keep me here? It isn’t bad enough that his mother has given me an art showing, now he’s going to buy my services? I don’t think so.” She kicked the floor harder. It was only because she might be pregnant. He had been more than happy with a short fling before the stupid condom broke.

  “What art showing?” Nathan asked.

  Sophie told her uncle in great detail about the showing, pausing once and again to kick the floor. The swing complained with a soft squeal.

  “Wow, Soph. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about? I want to design golf courses.” Her protest sounded weak, even to her own ears.

  “You like rendering the designs for golf courses. Your favorite part begins when you pull out the colored pencils,” he said

  She bit her lip. “So?”

  “So, why not give the art a shot?” he asked.

  Dread filled her. “Are you firing me?”

  “Of course not, but I want you to be happy. I’ll adore you no matter what you do for a living,” Nathan said.

  Warmth for her uncle filled her chest. He’d always been there for her. He knew how much she wanted to paint—to be a real artist. But she wouldn’t be bullied into it by Jake Lodge, who only wanted to keep his possible kid close. “It’s my decision on what I do for a living, and nobody is going to railroad me into a career. Any career.” The term so there echoed in the silence.

  “Like your mother?” Nathan asked.

  She jolted. “Uncle Nathan—”

  “Say the word and you’ll have a plane ticket waiting for you at the airline counter. I’ll bring you home immediately if you want,” Nathan said.

  Sophie stopped swinging. If staying in town would save her uncle’s company, she’d suck it up and do it. “Are we going bankrupt?”

  He sighed. “No. Well, I don’t think so. That’s not something for you to worry about, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too. Want me to send you a ticket home?” he asked.

  “Thanks, but I have some business to take care of here first.” Then she would make her own decisions—without any interference.

  “Call me if you need me.” He ended the call.

  Sophie pushed back from the porch swing just as a blue Toyota Sequoia rumbled to a stop behind her Jeep.

  Leila waved from the backseat’s open window. “We came to take you to lunch. And to see your surprise.”

  “Hop in.” Loni reached across the front seat and pushed open the passenger door.

  Sophie wavered at the top of the porch stairs.

  “Come on. You get a surprise,” Leila called out impatiently.

  Grinning, Sophie bounded down the wide steps and hopped into the large SUV.

  “We should’ve called,” Loni said as she drove away. “Sorry about the commissioners.”

  “It wasn’t much of a surprise after the hearing, anyway,” Sophie admitted.

  “Now you can design the tribe’s course, right?” Loni asked.

  Sophie stiffened. “I don’t think so.”

  “I guess that’ll be between you and Jake. “ Loni focused intently on her driving. “Should we do lunch first or go see the surprise?”

  “The surprise!” Leila chirped from the backseat. “You are going to love it, Sophie.”

  Sophie turned smiling eyes on the little girl. “I do love surprises.”

  “Are you and Daddy getting married?” Wise charcoal eyes twinkled.

  Loni gasped out a cough. “Uh, Leila, that’s private.” She shot a curious sideways glance at Sophie.

  “No, it isn’t. If Sophie marries Daddy, then I get a mama.” Wistfulness filled the girl’s tone.

  Sophie’s heart splintered. “You and I are friends, no matter what.”

  “Oh. So you won’t be my mama.” The girl sniffed.

  “I’ll be your friend,” Sophie said softly.

  Leila shrugged, crossing her arms. “That’d be good, too. Though Daddy’s a catch. Somebody else will marry him and be my mama if you don’t.”

  Loni smothered a laugh with her hand. “How do you know your daddy’s a catch?”

  Leila clapped her hands together. “Grets’s mom said so last week.”

  “Grets’s mom shouldn’t say things like that,” Loni said.

  “Well, Grandma? Is Daddy a catch or not?” Leila asked.

  “Of course he’s a catch.” Loni rolled her eyes.

  “Told you, Sophie.” Leila giggled.

  Sophie turned a surprised glance toward Loni when they entered the drive leading to Jake’s house. Loni smiled.

  “You could live here. It’s pretty great.” Leila continued her campaign.

  The vehicle rolled to a stop before Jake’s expansive home, and Sophie was saved from answering as the little girl jumped out of the Toyota.

  “This way.” Loni’s eyes sparkled as she got out of the car and turned toward the stand-alone garage with triple brown doors.

  “My surprise is in the garage?” Sophie asked. Leila placed a small hand in hers, and Sophie’s heart swelled.

  “No, upstairs.” The little girl tugged her toward the stairway to the left of the doors then released her to run up and push open the door. Sophie followed at a slower pace with Loni on her heels and gasped as she entered the empty room.

  A high-pitched roof and exposed beams gave the shadows angles to play while light filtered in wide windows scattered across all four walls and illuminated the oak floor. Sophie focused on the lone easel set on a drop cloth in the middle of the room.

  “Jake always planned to make this into an exercise room, but he uses the gym in town instead. It looks perfect for a studio.” Loni’s voice echoed around them.

  “It is perfect,” Sophie breathed, the possibilities entrancing her. “But I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you like it?” Leila asked, her eyes gleaming.

  “I love it.” Rolling pastures dotted with horses spread out the back window, mountains rose high and proud out the side, and Mineral Lake stretched out to the left. “But Loni—”

  Loni opened her arms. “Looks like a nice place to work on the exhibit for Juliet. The girl really could use a successful launch.”

  “She could?” Sophie asked.

  “She just moved here a few months ago. An exhibit would surely put her in good form. But we hadn’t found the right artist. Until now,” Loni said.

  “I don’t know…” Sophie’s gaze softened on the easel and empty canvas. “I’m shocked Jake would create this for me at his house. I mean, we’re not really dating or anything.” Why would he create something like that for her at his home? She hadn’t decided to do the gallery showing and hadn’t agreed to the tribe’s golf course—as far as he knew, she was returning to San Francisco soon.

  “It’s just a great place where you can capture the surrounding area easily, and it wasn’t being used. We help each other here, and you needed a place to paint. Although, whether you’re dating or not, take that up with Jake. I believe my boy can be extremely persuasive.” Loni turned for the door and beckoned Leila forward. “Where should we take Sophie for lunch?”

  …

  Sophie wasn’t surprised when her cell phone rang. Jake’s deep voice slid over the line like warm honey. “How are things?”

  “I’m not sure what to say.” She leaned against the wall in her room.

  Silence pounded across the line for a minute. “Say about what?”

 
“The art studio,” she said quietly.

  “What art studio?” he asked.

  She jerked. “Um, the art studio in the top of your garage?”

  He cleared his throat. “There’s an art studio in my garage?”

  “Oh, no.” She sank on the bed and yanked a pillow over her face. Jake had no clue. “Your mother and Leila—”

  Jake swore. “Aw, shit, Sunshine. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “I figured that out,” she mumbled. For a brief time, she’d thought maybe he was considering something permanent. Heat filled her face until her cheeks ached. What in the world had she been thinking? She hadn’t wanted that anyway—the man was too controlling.

  “The town, my mother, they love you.” Jake sighed. “They interfere, but they mean well.”

  Could the world just open up and swallow her? Please? “I like them, too,” she said.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing. The studio at my place… In case you’re pregnant,” he said slowly.

  Oh, for goodness sakes. There was no way she was pregnant. “I’m not, and even so, I could be pregnant in San Francisco,” she ground out. She threw the pillow across the room.

  “A baby needs a father,” he said.

  “We’re way ahead of the issue, here. I am not pregnant. Seriously, Jake. It was one. Well, two, times.” Her embarrassment turned to irritation. “Besides, I won’t let you manipulate me—trying to buy my design and everything.”

  There was a shuffling and then, “Damn it. I have to go. But I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

  “Are, too,” she retorted.

  “You’re impossible. We’ll discuss it as soon as I can call back.” With that, he disengaged the call.

  “Jerk,” Sophie muttered into the empty room.

  …

  Sophie finished the designs for Willa’s Garden but neglected to redesign the golf course for the tribe. Jake didn’t call, and she told herself she was happy about that. The last thing she wanted was to fight with him. Loni and Leila found an excuse each day to drop by and take her to lunch, and one day the three of them even rode horseback to a picnic spot overlooking Loni and Tom’s ranch. Loni patiently related tribal history, probably to nudge her into doing the paintings, while Leila blatantly brought Jake into every conversation along with not so subtle reminders that if Sophie didn’t snatch him up, somebody would.