Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys

by D'Ann Lindun

  She froze as she mulled it over. The idea tempted her more than she wanted to admit. The last vacation she’d taken was over a year ago. How much fun would it be to stay here and get to know him better? She instantly banished the idea. Doing so might get her attached. “I can’t. I have a job in Houston coming up.”

  “The offer stands.” He reached for his shorts with stiff, jerky movements.

  She reached for his wrist. “Wait. Let me do a few more shots.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged and dropped his shorts. “What the hell. What do I do?”

  Motioning toward the slicker he’d spread out earlier, she said, “Lie on that.”

  Complying, he lay on the bright-yellow raincoat. “Is this what the guys in porn magazines do?”

  She laughed and raised her camera. “I don’t know. I imagine there’s some fondling and touching, though.”

  He spread his hands out to his sides. “Go ahead.”

  She flushed. “I meant you.”

  “You’re not taking pictures of me yanking my dick.”

  Laughter gurgled out of her. “I don’t want you to. You’re perfect exactly like you are.”

  And he was. Reclining on the raincoat, hands lying loosely by his sides, flat belly and long legs, he looked better than any paid model.

  Muscled.

  Lean.

  Hard.

  She fought to keep from focusing solely on his erect cock, standing proud and enticing.

  He was so sexy it was all she could do to not throw her camera aside, climb aboard and ride him to the ground. Only the knowledge that such actions could lead to unwanted consequences kept her from doing so. Instead, she took pictures from every angle she could imagine. She asked him to put his hands behind his head, on his belly. She even had him roll over so she could shoot his fine ass.

  All kinds of poses, but none that belonged in a pornographic magazine. Just pictures that would remind her of a lover. Fond memories she could hold close.

  As he rose and dressed, she couldn’t resist snapping a few more candids. Finally, she put down the Canon. “Got ’em.”

  He shot her a grin. “Don’t think I want to make a career out of modeling.”

  “You’re a cowboy until you die?”

  “Yup.” He reached for the saddlebags he’d dropped nearby. “Don’t want to be anything else.”

  “I admire that.”

  “But you don’t think a lot of my actual job, do you?”

  “Of course I do. Why would I make a career out of glorifying the American cowboy if I didn’t?” A realization hit her, she meant every word.

  He opened the saddlebags and withdrew wrapped tortillas. “I think you like the idea of cowboyin’. Everybody thinks it’s glamorous, but the truth is its long, hot days in the sun with low pay and no benefits.”

  “I know the truth,” Alannah protested.

  “Do you?” He handed her a Tupperware bowl filled with beef-and-bean burritos, followed by oranges, bottles of water. A plastic bag filled with cookies.

  “Of course,” she retorted. What had gotten into him? “I grew up on a dairy farm. I know exactly what agriculture life is all about.” She took a deep breath. “It means endless backbreaking work. No vacations. Every dime tied up in livestock and feed.”

  He reached for a rolled tortilla, his mouth set in a tight line. “I go places. I’ve even been to Hawaii.”

  “Every year?”

  His silence told her his answer.

  “I didn’t think so.” She knew she was right about this.

  “You can’t live without vacations, designer clothes and nightlife?” Bitterness filled his voice. “My mother couldn’t. She ran off with the first city guy she could find when my dad wouldn’t give up the ranch and move to Dallas. I grew up with a housekeeper for a mother. I love Lupita, but she’s not my mother.”

  “I don’t care about any of those things,” she said. “But I also don’t want to be tied down and unable to go wherever I choose, whenever I want.”

  He spread green chili on a tortilla. Took a bite, chewed. Finally, he spoke. “Sounds lonely to me.”

  “Sometimes.” Picking up an orange, she began peeling it. “But I don’t have family to go home to. My parents died a few years back.”

  “All the more reason to put down roots somewhere. Have some babies.” He ate another tortilla stuffed full of Lupita’s specially spiced beef and beans.

  How could he eat like that and his body still look so good? Hard work. With a shrug, she said, “Maybe someday.” Not now. Not until she had her fill of wandering.

  The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Gentry began packing up leftovers, sticking everything back in the saddlebags. “You ready to ride?”

  “Yes. Are you dry?”

  “Everything but my boots and chaps, and they’ll get toasty soon enough in this heat.” He stood and moved toward the horses, tying on the saddlebags and hooking his chaps over the saddlehorn. Last, he fastened his bright-yellow slicker behind the saddle.

  Alannah untied Silver, checked her cinch and mounted. She watched Gentry swing his long leg over the paint’s back. He was so graceful in everything he did that she was tempted to photograph him constantly. However, she didn’t want to cause Scribbles to buck again, so she refrained.

  “Where do you think the bull might’ve gone?”

  He pointed up the valley. “That way. There are more ponds and a small herd of cows and calves there.”

  “Why do you want him to come home?”

  “We don’t want him breeding those particular cows. They’re first-year heifers. He’s too big for them. His calves are large, too much for a heifer to birth.”

  “Oh.” She reined Silver behind him so he couldn’t see on her face how talking about the bull’s size made her think of Gentry’s cock deep inside her, planting his seed in her belly. “Does this bull have his own band, then?”

  “Yeah. Don’t know why he felt the need to range.”

  The comment was innocent enough, but it felt directed at her, somehow. “Maybe he needs to see if the grass was greener on the other side of the fence and all that.”

  Gentry glanced over his shoulder at her. “Maybe, but he should be content with what he has.”

  Alannah didn’t reply. Could she settle down and be satisfied? She was far more attracted to this cowboy than any other she’d ever met. Something about him just turned her insides to mush. As long as her brain didn’t turn to mush, too, she’d be okay. Just enjoy her time with him and move on. That was the key.

  The thought of being tied down by a herd of cows gave her chills, even in the hot summer day. Being unable to get in Mavis and just go with the wind in her hair made her stomach clench. She took a shuddering breath. No man was worth her freedom.

  Not even this one.

  ~*~

  Gentry guided the paint gelding up a narrow wash as he mulled over the day’s events. He chalked up his bad mood to having to chase down a renegade bull twice in two days, but the reality was his grumpiness had everything to do with the enticing blonde riding behind him.

  Alannah had wiggled her way into his system. He hadn’t been this wrapped up over a girl since high school when he’d fallen for Estella Escondido. At least she was from this area, and understood his lifestyle. She should—her family ran longhorns on their place. Their teenage affair had turned from red-hot love into friendship that had stood the test of time; he still counted her as one of his closest friends. He socialized with Estella and her husband as often as they could with their busy schedules.

  There’d been a few other women since Estella, including Mindy, but none since had caught his interest like Alannah. He’d wasted half a day playing in the pond with her. Ordinarily, he’d cowboy up and ride, wet or not. He wanted to spend time with her. It hadn’t been a hardship. Most of his days were spent on horseback, and it had been fun to relax a little bit.

  The city girl kept him on his toes. He never knew what she might say or d
o next. He’d impulsively thrown out the invitation to stay. It had stung more than he expected when she refused.

  There were other women he’d be better suited to, but something about Alannah intrigued him. Not since his college football days had a woman disrobed hours after meeting. Their sex had been phenomenal, too.

  He craved more.

  More of the woman herself. He wanted to get to know her, find out what made her tick.

  Maybe he could convince her to stick around if he romanced her a little. The thought took hold, and he began to mull over some options. Before he could decide exactly what to do, Scribbles snorted and pricked his ears. Gentry’s thoughts were drawn back to the job at hand.

  A small herd of cows dotted the meadow.

  Gentry reined in and surveyed them. A dark chestnut bull, the one that should be with this bunch, lay under some brush, chewing his cud, obviously, content. Likewise, cows and calves rested in the shade.

  Alannah rode beside him and lifted her camera. “Okay if I take some shots?”

  He tightened his reins and deepened his seat. “Go ahead.”

  While she snapped a few pictures, he continued to scan for the missing bull. Finally, he spotted the big animal at the edge of the meadow with an older cow. Good. If the bull had bred this one, she’d calved enough times to handle a big calf.

  He pointed. “There he is.”

  She put down her camera. “What do we do?”

  “Circle around him, and start pushing the way we came.” He nudged the paint with his heels. “Just stick with me for now.”

  She nodded and fell in behind him.

  They made their way around the bull and his lady friend. The cow darted toward her calf, and Gentry let her go. He waved a hand at the bull, eyeing him. “Go on now. Head for home.”

  When the bull tried to blow by, the fast, little paint spun on his heels, cutting him off. In his peripheral vision, Gentry saw Alannah taking pictures, but he was too busy to pay attention. The bovine continued to go by him, but the catty, little cowhorse cut him off every time, spinning back and forth on his hocks.

  Finally, the stubborn bull gave up and turned for home.

  With a shout of triumph, Gentry followed the ornery beast, waving at Alannah to come along. By instinct—or someone had taught her—she moved to the far side of the bull.

  Moving the stubborn critter through the brushy hills took a great deal of work. Gentry was more than capable of doing it on his own, but having an extra hand didn’t hurt his feelings. Every time the bull tried to turn back, Alannah cut him off like an old hand.

  Impressed by her skill, he had to ask. “Who taught you to herd stock?”

  “My father.” She grinned at him. “You do move dairy cattle from time to time, you know.”

  He hadn’t been around a lot of milk cows, but he knew they were rarely moved by horseback. They automatically came and went from the milking barn with no urging needed. Beef cattle were almost an entirely different species, and herding them a different thing.

  Maybe she wasn’t as much a city girl as he’d thought. He shrugged mentally. Did it matter? She would be leaving soon even though he’d been foolish to ask her to hang around.

  He reined in to let the big animal rest. After reaching into his saddlebags, he withdrew a bottle of water. He offered it to Alannah, but she shook her head.

  “I have mine, thanks.” She grabbed her own bottle and guzzled it, then wiped her mouth with her hand. “That’s good. This is so awesome. I love it.”

  Not awesome enough for her to stick around though. Gentry replaced the water and buckled the saddlebags. “Let’s go home.”

  “Is it okay if I take some more pictures?”

  He glanced her direction. She already had the damn thing aimed at him. He sighed. “If you have to.”

  The whir of her camera was his answer.

  The sight of his truck and trailer near dusk came as a welcome relief. Gentry’s muscles ached from the long day riding and he knew Alannah had to be done in. They put the renegade bull through the fence, closed the gate behind him and turned toward the vehicle.

  After dismounting first, he tied Scribbles and moved to help Alannah down from Silver. The minute he put his hands on her waist, his libido sped up, and his exhaustion faded away. Damn the woman for stirring his blood so easily.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Alannah ate dinner, showered and hit the hay by ten p.m. She stretched out on her borrowed bed and played over the day’s events. Understanding of why Gentry had been so tired the night before sank into her fried brain. Exhausted or not, he’d made love to her all night long. The thought made an explosion of butterflies take off in her stomach.

  The man had her twisted up like a kite in a tree. She had plenty of pictures, more than her editor could ever use. She smiled a little, thinking of the nudes Gentry had allowed her to take. Too bad he didn’t want them seen by anyone else. He was a stunning male. Women all over would go wild at the sight of those pictures.

  The thought of sharing those shots with anyone else sent a flash of possessiveness zinging through Alannah.

  She liked Sterling Gentry. A lot. Too much.

  He’d asked her to stick around for a few days. Could she risk it, getting more attached than she already was? The idea scared her to death. Better to leave, and soon. Maybe even in the morning.

  The idea of her next assignment didn’t excite her as much as it usually did. In fact, the idea of packing, traveling and opening her luggage in a new town made her weary. She didn’t have to be in Houston for another week. What could it hurt to stay here at least four or five more days? Enjoy some time off and make memories she could hold onto during the lonely nights ahead?

  ~*~

  Gentry poured himself a cup of coffee and watched the sun come up over the hills as he sipped.

  Although he rose at his usual time, Gentry let Alannah sleep. He knew the day before had been harder on her than she let on. His respect for her had grown during the long day. She hadn’t bellyached or quit until the job was done.

  He had plenty to do today—he always did. But some of her words yesterday had struck home. Taking every other day off to play never had been, and never would be his way, but a little rest and relaxation wouldn’t hurt him. He could take a day off, and the place wouldn’t fall down around his ears.

  Sergio and Raul could handle things on their own for a few hours.

  He poured a second cup of coffee and carried it to the barn. The men had their horses caught and saddled, ready to ride. Gentry told them he wasn’t going along and neither commented.

  “Make sure the bull stayed put, then check the cows and calves in the north pasture,” Gentry said. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too.” Sergio winked and flashed a knowing grin.

  Gentry slapped him on the shoulder and hurried back to the house with a light step. On the way in, he picked up the mail lying on the hallway table. At the bottom was a newspaper. As he walked, he unrolled it. The front page showed a picture of a young girl leading a big, black steer. He didn’t recognize her, but he knew where she was at: Navajo County Fair and Rodeo.

  His step lightened. He knew exactly where to take Alannah.

  After placing his cup in the sink, he headed for a shower.

  ~*~

  Gentry stole a glance at Alannah as they chatted. She’d pulled her blonde hair back into a tight ponytail that showed off her bright-green eyes and high cheekbones. Her dress made his blood quicken. Denim, with small straps that showed off her collarbones, tight across her breasts and waist, then flaring out, reaching down to her tooled, red boots. But it was mostly the dozens of tiny buttons up the front he liked most. What would it be like to undo them one at a time? Taste each inch of skin? Tease her nipples with his tongue until she cried his name? To dip lower?

  He'd packed several condoms in his wallet, just in case such an event occurred.

  To take his mind off his aching cock, he turned on the CD player,
and George Strait’s voice filled the cab. Alannah had been surprised by the invitation to attend the fair but accepted with a happy smile. Would she be as thrilled to ride again today if he’d suggested that instead? He frowned. Doubtful.

  They drove into Holbrook, and he turned down Main Street. Trucks and trailers lined the road and made locating a parking spot tricky. Finally, he found an empty slot between two rigs and eased his big Dodge in between them.

  “Ready?”

  Alannah nodded eagerly and he grinned at her enthusiasm. She grabbed her ever-present camera and slung it around her neck. “Absolutely.”

  “Have you been to a county fair before?”

  “Not since I was a kid back home.” She grinned at him. “I showed a Jersey heifer in 4-H.”

  She could have knocked him over with a feather because she surprised him so much. He stepped out and went around to open her door. “In all the times you’ve photographed people, none of them have been at a fair?”

  She shook her head, and her blonde ponytail bobbed. “No. I’ve been to some big rodeos at state fairs but never to a county event. Not since my 4-H days back home.”

  Doubt crept into Gentry’s head. He should have taken her to Flagstaff and toured the many art galleries there and had a nice dinner afterwards, not look at more cows. With a sigh of resignation, he held out his hand. She slid her smaller one into his. It felt good. Right. His mood improved. Today was all about showing off his way of life. He couldn’t be anything but an Arizona rancher.

  As they walked toward the big building that housed the indoor exhibits, the scents of funnel cake, cotton candy and popcorn filled the air. Kids shrieked over country music blasting from loudspeakers. Carnival vendors added to the general cacophony of sound.

  It had been a long time since he’d been at a fair. As a ten-year member of the Bits and Pieces 4-H club, then Future Farmers of America, he’d showed cattle and a pig or two. But that had been many years ago.

  A lot of his friends’ kids were already carrying on the tradition. Familiar longing filled him for a son or daughter to pass on all the things he loved—land, cattle, horses.