by Cindi Madsen
The curls obscuring her features fell away as she lifted her head to show him her responding scowl. Instead of taking it personally, he studied the constellations in her eyes. Namely, the two brown freckles in the green of her right eye. Then he upped the intensity of his prodding gaze, silently conveying he could last all night if need be.
Last all night. Best think of another way of phrasing it before my thoughts go to… He worked to temper his body’s reaction to the idea of going down that road.
“Okay, so…” Tanya sat up, and he followed her lead. She filled him in on Phoenix and how that experience had unearthed a desire to open a rescue ranch. He flinched as she relayed her father’s reaction and experienced a pang when her voice cracked. “For the first time in a long time, I let passion sweep me away and leaped before formulating some grand plan. I should’ve known he’d shoot it down.”
Brady wrapped his hand around her knee. “Hey. You have to keep on trying. Regardless of your dad being a stubborn old bear. Truth be told, I always thought your passion was one of your best qualities. Made you a top competitor, too.”
Her lips twisted as several emotions flickered across her face. Was she…? Panic bled through his body. She was going to cry, something he hadn’t witnessed since they were kids and it was acceptable to shed tears over scraped knees. Crying women made every one of his internal sensors go berserk. He didn’t know how to make it better or if it was something you should or shouldn’t acknowledge, and whichever method he tried, it always ended up being the wrong one.
“I appreciate you saying so, but it feels like I’m launching disasters at every turn. I dared to suggest an idea not in line with ‘the way we’ve done it at Bullhead Valley for generations.’ After Pops stormed out, I begged my mom to try to talk some sense into him, and her refusal left us both frustrated. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I also yelled at my best friend in a bar and made it weird… Sorry about that.”
“Eh, I probably deserved it,” Brady said. “Seeing you with that guy brought out my caveman side, and it was a dick move to make you feel bad about looking so damn sexy.”
“Sexy, even?” Tanya sank her teeth into her lower lip, and then Brady’s thoughts turned to closing the gap between their mouths so he could take over the biting for her. “You seriously thought so? Before or after I drew attention to it?”
“Yes to all of the above.” He dipped his head, imploring her gaze with his. “For the record, I’ve always thought you were beautiful. Dirty, clean. Straight hair, curly hair, dresses, T-shirt and jeans, and everything in between.”
“Wow,” she said on a shallow breath, “that definitely amps up the tug-of-war I’m having with myself. One side is caught up in a cocky yet charming cowboy and the possibility of what might be, and the other side won’t stop hitting itself against the wall in an attempt to come up with a genius business plan my Pops can’t refuse. It took me way too long to figure out my life’s calling, but rescuing horses is it. I feel it in my bones.”
“Just build the stables on my property and run it from there.” On top of allowing a lot of input, his parents gave each of their sons a cabin with three acres of land on their eighteenth birthday. Tanya’s parents expected her to practically run the entire dude ranch operation for meager room and board—while constantly vetoing her ideas. “Boom, problem solved. You’re welcome.”
The perfect solution—one he’d hoped would prevent tears—yet Tanya scowled, her upset expression leading him to believe he’d offended her somehow. She’d accused him of overstepping before, and he reckoned it was about to happen again.
“You can’t just offer up your land, Brady. Plus, if we cross lines, there will be all these extra strings.”
Offense socked him in the gut. “Extra strings? I’m not offering to help contingent on anything. Is that really the kind of guy you think I am?”
Tanya placed her hand on his cheek, soothing the storm inside, while the wind picked up on the one Mother Nature was ready to unleash.
“‘Added pressure’ is a more accurate term. Our lives are already so entwined, and not talking to you for a few days shone a big, ol’ spotlight on how much I stand to lose if things go badly.” One corner of her mouth quirked as she picked at a stray thread on her jeans. “I got so desperate I attempted to discuss everything with Winston, who didn’t give a single helpful suggestion and hobbled off halfway through.”
“That lopsided punk,” Brady said with a laugh, and Tanya’s tinkling laughter joined his.
Time froze again, the heaviness in the air shifting from the earlier awkwardness to a hum of acknowledged desire.
Tanya licked her lips, and Brady’s rapid pulse roared though his head, loud enough it outdid the clap of thunder. “So I’ll figure out a way to open a horse-rescue ranch. Honestly, all I want you to do is listen and hug me and tell me it’ll be okay, even though that’s probably unfair of me to ask of you with everything up in the air between us.”
Brady drew her into his arms and lightly pressed his lips to her temple, not kissing but lingering and inhaling and once again working to keep his body in check. Damn, this might be harder than he realized, comforting her while wondering if their connection could get even better. “It’ll all be okay. You’ll find a way. And I’ll be there, giving whatever support you need once you do.”
* * *
Tanya let herself melt into Brady’s embrace. She soaked in the scent of his skin: grass and sunshine and musky cologne.
During the last three hours, her heart had grown heavier and heavier until suddenly she was in the middle of texting Brady. Since hashing things out might mean the end for at least one of her dreams, she’d planned on dragging her feet a while longer. But she’d felt lost without her other half.
Finally, she and Brady were in the same place after five days of not-rightness.
Was she truly ready to leap off the cliff? Right now, she wasn’t sure. Not without getting a better look at the bottom. He hadn’t exactly been forthright about his feelings on the subject. Sure, he’d called her sexy and beautiful, but he didn’t say he was ready for more than friendship. In fact, he’d stated there was a lot at stake before lobbing the ball back to her side of the court with his “I need you to tell me.”
Brady had a bit of a hero complex. Always had. In order to make her happy, he might just convince himself into feeling more so he wouldn’t let her down. She didn’t want pity attraction. It was the real deal or nothing, and as his fingertips skated up and down her spine, she hesitated to do anything that’d put moments like this at risk.
Each corresponding zing that shivered down her core, however, beseeched her not to give up on the idea of them as a couple.
Tanya sniffed and broke the hug. She swung her legs through the air in an attempt to trick her body into resuming proper functions yet again.
Silence descended, leaving just the crickets and their noisy, mate-attracting legs. Tanya stole a peek at Brady… And how dare he look so sexy in his pale-blue denim button-down! It shouldn’t go with his Wranglers, but his jeans were a couple shades darker, and his belt and buckle separated all the blue and called attention to how ridiculously buff he was. The fabric made his baby blues stand out, too. He didn’t have on his cowboy hat, but she could see the faint indentation of where it’d been.
All those mouthwatering details compiled a rather sound case for closing her eyes and jumping on in. He cracked a smile, and that swoonworthy rivet formed in his cheek. For months, she’d been tempted to touch it, so she indulged, swiping the pad of her thumb over the indentation.
His warm breath whooshed across her wrist, and the world ground to a halt. Pressure built, inside and around them, until her head throbbed with it. Brady’s palm drifted down her arm, and her skin hummed under the whisper of his roughed fingertips.
Emotion after emotion whirled through her, the internal tornado leaving her on the brink
of insanity.
Rain splatted the top of her head—one drop, then another—and she remained perfectly still, afraid moving or speaking would break the spell. Water splashed her arm. Her cheek. A fat droplet hit her lashes and clung there.
“Storm’s starting,” Brady said, his voice gruff, and for the first time, she let herself believe that he might be as affected by her as she was by him.
“Just a little while longer,” she whispered. If they left the special place that’d belonged to them for as long as they’d belonged to each other, reality would creep in. There’d be overthinking and other variables, and she wanted another minute to bask in the abundance of possibility that hung in the air.
The rainstorm increased its tempo, but Brady didn’t budge. He was taking most of the splatters, tucking her head under his chin and acting as her very own human umbrella.
A forked bolt streaked through the inky sky, close enough that static electricity raised the hair on her arms. Thunder boomed a couple of seconds later, and then the gray clouds released every ounce of water they’d been withholding at once.
Water seeped into her jeans, and Tanya let loose a tiny squeak. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get inside the truck!”
“Me? You said you wanted to stay out here, so I was waiting for you.”
Lightning flashed, the world going bright for an instant before darkness reigned once again. Almost as quickly, Brady launched himself off the tailgate. He extended a hand her way, tugged her out of the bed of the truck, and pushed her in front of him. He propelled her toward the driver’s side door, and she yanked it open and climbed in, Brady hot on her heels.
The wet clothes made it hard to slide across the vinyl seat, and Brady sat halfway on her lap. She wheezed as her lungs struggled for air. “Oh my gosh, you’re heavy.”
“And you’re slow.” He stood as much as he could, but quarters were tight between the low roof and the steering wheel. “Scooch over.”
“I’m trying. It’s just that—”
Brady yanked her a few inches off the seat, flopped down, and then lowered her until she was on his lap. Tanya blinked at the water pouring down the windshield in streams, wondering how Brady had managed that maneuver in such a tiny space.
Then the heat of his body seeped into her, counteracting the cold rivulets that dripped from her hair, meandered down the front of her shirt, and slid between her breasts. The glass in front of her fogged, and she eyed the other side of the cab, torn on whether to stay put or move aside.
As if he sensed she might be second-guessing things, Brady’s arm snaked around her waist. He secured her tighter to him, his chest bumping her back every time he took a breath. Awareness pricked her skin, and then she was acutely conscious of his solid thighs underneath hers, and… She sucked in a sharp inhale as he spread his fingers, his thumb and forefinger slipping under the hem of her T-shirt.
Had he meant to do that?
A strangled noise came from his throat as she twisted to get a read on him. Droplets clung to his hair and eyelashes, and his shirt was plastered to his chest the same way she wanted to be. She saw the moment he went to shutter his features, but he dropped his walls instead, allowing her a glimpse at the naked passion on his face.
Her heart expanded, and holy shit, could he truly want her as much as she wanted him?
His breath wafted across her neck, a stark contrast to the cold rainwater clinging to their skin. “You’d better tell me what you want, because I’m mighty close to crossing a line.”
Every one of her organs forgot how to function at once. His lips grazed the shell of her ear, and goose bumps swept across her skin. “Let’s maybe try a kiss and go from there?”
Brady caught her chin between his finger and his thumb. “That could be arranged.”
He tilted his head and leaned closer, but they’d gone the same way. Or the opposite way. “Wait. You go right? Usually, I go left, so…”
Their faces didn’t align well, and this so wasn’t how she envisioned their first kiss going. In her head, there’d been fireworks, instinct, and fluidity, as if their lips were always meant to find each other.
“Just go right then,” Brady grunted.
Nope. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. “Why am I the one who has to change? You go—”
“For hell’s sake, woman.” Brady slipped his large hand behind her neck and guided her lips to his. He dug his thumb into the line of her jaw, applying enough pressure to tilt her head the way she’d sworn she wasn’t going to go. As their hungry mouths moved against each other, her center of gravity shifted, tethering itself to this man, this moment, and the exquisite things he did with his tongue.
The temperature of the cab skyrocketed, the windows going from steamy to a heavy fog.
Brady pressed that unyielding thumb to her pulse point once again, tipping up her chin and exposing her neck to his whiskered mouth. Teeth and soft lips, and Tanya felt him growing hard against her butt. Since he’d used his strength to control her head, she was going to see how he liked it. She pushed against his impressive length, fire igniting low in her belly at his groan.
The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the bench seat, Brady’s large body looming over her, forearms braced on either side of her head. He swept her wet curls off her face, his gaze boring into hers for several incredible seconds before he resumed the kissing.
One of his thighs slipped between both of hers and pressed against the bundle of nerves that’d throbbed to life. She arched her hips, craving more friction, more of him. “More.”
Brady thrust his tongue inside her mouth, tasting and stroking, and an involuntary whimper escaped as she ground against his muscular thigh. He shifted his weight to his left arm and dragged a thumb over one of her hardened nipples, visible through the wet fabric of her shirt and simple white bra.
He moved to the other breast, plucking and tweaking, and she came clean off the seat.
“Good to know,” he said, as if he were cataloging what she liked—which at this point, was pretty much every move he had. He captured her bottom lip between both of his and sucked until dizziness set in.
Cool, humid air prickled her skin as he wadded her shirt in his large hand and dragged it up, up, up. In order to avoid hyperfocusing on the fact that she was only in a bra—and the rain had rendered it see-through—she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. A week ago, she’d caught a glimpse of those pecs and abs, and yet her breath still caught as she peeled away the damp cotton. Manual labor helped her stay in shape, but it made Brady appear as if he’d been chiseled in stone.
The guy pinning her to the seat had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. He’d seen her through frizzy hair and braces and that one summer she’d decided to bleach her locks—it only half took, so she’d looked like Chester Cheetah. She could also recall the days when Brady’s front two teeth were missing and then grew in too big for his mouth. Days of overly gelled hair and too much cologne.
There’d been lanky Brady, optimistically-attempting-to-grow-a-beard Brady. Then he’d filled out and morphed into the rugged, absurdly sexy man he was.
He scrutinized her, perhaps recalibrating things in his brain the same way. Pondering their new…well, not normal. But maybe eventually it would be, and that left her teetering on the edge of hope, unsure whether to embrace the thrill of the fall or slam the brakes.
Torturously slowly, Brady skirted his callused fingertips across her collarbone. “So we tried the kissing.” Another swipe had her clenching her thighs. Losing her mind. With his pupils so dark and dilated, they nearly overtook the blue.
In a dreamlike stance, she reached out and touched the center of his chest. Real. Warm. Steady heartbeat. Her Brady, in the way she’d imagined for months. “Is it just me, or are we really good at the kissing?”
One corner of his mouth kicked u
p. “That’s just me.”
She smacked him on the arm but failed at stifling a giggle. She ran her gaze over his broad shoulders, across his pecs, and down to the V of his obliques. Then her fingertips traced the path her eyes had taken. Shoulders, chest, down his abs…
His muscles twitched beneath her touch. Be bold. The meek might inherit the earth, but the brazen will get the guy. Her stomach had bottomed out as she’d read that chapter, and she’d shaken her head over and over. In the silence of her room, she’d asked if she seriously had to be someone she wasn’t to get the guy.
But with the guy responding to every little touch, she found she could, in fact, be both bold and brazen. “Well, if you’ll recall, I did promise that I’d show you mine if you showed me yours.”
Brady’s thick swallow echoed through the cab. “You weren’t talking about belt buckles?”
“Nope.” Tanya’s fingertips strayed to the waistband of his Wranglers, where she glided them back and forth, back and forth. Brady groaned, the bulge behind his zipper growing even bigger. The only reason she’d tell herself to wait after a make-out that hot would be because she needed to get to know a guy better.
This guy she practically knew better than herself. Which gave her an idea. “You should remove my bra.” She affected a ditzy front and twisted a curl around her finger. “Unless you’re chicken.”
At first, she thought he was simply shifting his weight from one side to the other, but suddenly her bra gave away. He gripped it in the center, right over the little bow, and yanked it off.
Her heart hammered at a punishing pace, and adrenaline inundated her system, heightening every sensation. Euphoria was within reach. Finally, she was exactly where she wanted to be, only her worries didn’t magically disappear, and she couldn’t not address them. “I know I implied you might be yellow, as if I were all badass and ready for it, but I might also be a pinch scared. I don’t want things to get weird or to ruin what we have. And yes, I realize I should’ve said this before I ended up having to say it topless.”