A Bride for the Texas Cowboy

by Sinclair Jayne

  Her lips parted, and Cat relaxed into him. Instantly, his world and sense of unease settled, and he deepened the kiss, needing to feel her warmth and passion and life force brush against and then meld with his.

  “Kitty Cat,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “I hate that you call me that.” Her breath mingled with his.

  He looked into her green-gray eyes that always revealed so much. It was impossible for Cat to keep secrets from him.

  “No, you don’t,” he disagreed and let his tongue stroke her inner lip. She shivered against him. “You love the nickname. It’s you—sweet, playful, beautiful but with claws.”

  “You’re saying I keep you on your toes,” she grumped.

  “Probably the only one who can.” His phone buzzed again.

  The look Cat gave him sealed the deal.

  “I can’t wait until I have both hands back,” he said and leaned away from her enough that he could pull his phone out and place it on the long plank of wood Cat had painted red and distressed with Diego to use as their pouring table. It rested on three wine barrels, and he’d already decided he wanted to incorporate it somehow in the tasting room or, even better, in the tasting area he hoped to have at the actual winery someday.

  He didn’t even look at the screen. “Dance, Cat. We never did enough of that, and I know you love it. You used to listen to music in the garden with my mom and move around a lot. And when you were cleaning your apartment you were always singing and grooving.”

  But he hadn’t really taken her dancing. Or danced at the concerts and event pop-ups he’d started when they were together because he’d always been networking. Heck, he hadn’t ever taken her on dates, really. Most of the things they’d done had been work-related. Or meeting up after a work-related event.

  “I…your…” She looked at his leg.

  “I’m a lot better,” he said quickly.

  He hated the injury. He hated being weak. And he hated hating it when Derek and Pete had been even more badly injured. But he also hated being defined by it, especially in Cat’s eyes. And how Axel had tried today to anticipate the heavy lifting so he didn’t have to. Taking on the burdens for others—his brother’s code.

  “I definitely have gained more appreciation for good health,” August admitted and was a bit shocked when his throat closed a little, emotion crowding close. “And for living in the moment. Seeing you today and how you chatted with each person who came in to taste the wine, the way you talked about the wine and the land and what we hope to do with Verflucht made me realize how important it is to sometimes go slow.”

  Catalina smiled. “It’s one of my favorite things about winemaking—sharing the experience with others, seeing them enjoy themselves. Creating a memorable experience.”

  “I see that now. I think that’s what I loved about Wolf Cowboy Beer at first. It was exciting, and then it caught fire and just exploded. I kept expanding and expanding because I could. And, hopefully, I won’t supernova and lose it all by expanding too fast and too broadly.”

  His breath caught. He shouldn’t have said that. Admitted doubt. But he’d never done that before, and he wanted things to be different this time.

  “You won’t lose it, August,” she said, sliding her hand up and down his arm, her touch comforting.

  “You must think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Not the first time. Not the last.”

  “That’s a relief,” he said, and in a way, he realized with a stab, it was. He’d admitted a flaw.

  Progress.

  And she’d teased him. And a smile hovered on her lips, and her beautiful eyes were soft.

  “Dance with me, Cat.” He held out his hand, tangled his fingers with hers and reeled her in. “We’re starting over,” he murmured in her ear pulling her close into his body. “We’re starting right.”

  And for August, it was a vow.

  *

  Cat felt the difference in him. And it both thrilled and terrified her. She opened her mouth needing a complete explanation, his intentions spelled out in detail, but August laid a finger against her lips.

  “Please, Cat, this is a long time coming. So long. The accident, being so injured, it’s given me time to think clearly for the first time in I think forever.”

  “August, you are the smartest man…the smartest person I’ve ever met so don’t think you’re going to charm your way into my pants with an ah shucks and a dimple. And talking about some random flash of insight.”

  He smiled—a slow flash of even, white teeth and the damn dimple that had always melted her heart and panties and had always made her forgive him.

  Not this time. But she wasn’t sure that was true anymore.

  He reeled her closer so that she was fully flush against his body.

  “I missed you, Cat. So much.” His breath teased her ear and shot tingle throughout her body.

  She tried to resist relaxing into him too much, reminded herself she couldn’t trust him, even though every cell in her body urged her to.

  She felt safe. She felt happy. She felt home. And then there was the thrum of desire bubbling through her veins, heating her from the inside out.

  They continued to sway to the music, and it was one of the most perfect moments of her life. She tried not to read too much into his words, but it was getting so much more difficult.

  “August, please don’t say anything you don’t mean. I’m not like you. I’m not resilient or easygoing. I don’t bounce back so easily.”

  “Cat.” He rested his forehead against hers and she found herself looking up at him in the warm paper lantern glow of the tent. His eyes blended together to form a sea of blurry blue she wanted to fall in and never leave. “You are the strongest person I know. There’s nothing you can’t achieve if you set your mind to it.”

  Her breath feathered in her throat. She wanted to be that woman. Invincible.

  “I’m so tired of being hurt,” she admitted.

  “Baby.” He pulled her in so tightly she could no longer move. Her head was trapped against his chest as his hand cupped the back of her head, and she could hear his heart pound.

  “I know I hurt you. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

  He sounded so sincere, so broken himself that tears welled and she scrunched her face shut, happy he couldn’t see her.

  “I screwed up. I knew it when I hired Derek, but I wanted to protect you.”

  “From what?” Surprise dried her eyes, and she tried to pull away so she could get a better read on him, but he held her close to his body and breathing in his scent along with the lingering wine and some spilled whiskey was so heady.

  “Your family. The past. My family. Me. The curse. The gossip. Hell, I don’t even know anymore.”

  “That wasn’t your decision.”

  “I know.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking so much more since the accident. Thinking about you and us and my actions. I want us to start over. Kill the past and start new.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “It just takes the commitment,” he said.

  “There’s so much history, August. You made decisions that should have been made by us.”

  “Absolutely.” He owned the wrong.

  “You didn’t even offer me the chance. You just assumed that you knew best.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now what, you want a do-over?”

  “For us, yes.” He ran his hand through his hair, and smiled at her, looking a little shy.

  Cat stared, fascinated by this glimpse of vulnerability.

  “I want to marry you. I want us to be a team.”

  “Team,” she repeated. She’d never thought about marriage like being on a team. Marriage had been something else entirely—romance, love, support, shared goals, a best friend and a lover. But she’d never played sports so the analogy didn’t exactly gel with her right away.

  “Team.” She sounded out the
word almost as if it were a foreign word. What would that look like? She knew what being a part of a team looked like in the winery and in the vineyard. But none of that really screamed marriage to her.

  “I’m not really sure that’s possible, August. I’m not really sure what you’re asking.”

  “Yes, we have a history, and we can build on that. We were friends and lovers. We grew up together. But we weren’t always on the same page. You were older, more mature. I was young, way too arrogant and emotionally out of my depth. I was focused on building an empire. And yeah, showing up Axel and every other brewmeister. I wasn’t ready to be a good partner then. Hell, I didn’t even know what that was. I was living day by day, focusing totally on my career. You wanted a relationship. And family. I couldn’t see me ever having those things.”

  Her heart sank, but she forced herself to look up at him calmly.

  “But now I can,” he said. “I’m ready.”

  They stood there, alone in the night, the music and dancing and crowds far enough away that they were in their own little world. Cat felt like he’d laid his heart and his dreams at her feet. Did she have the courage to pick them up?

  “So, Cat, you going to give me what I want?”

  His expression was tight. His eyes searched hers. And she felt an odd sense of power, and unexpectedly a surge of hope.

  “Are you going to give me what I want?” Cat tossed his words back at him, digging deep for an attitude that had taken a beating over the past few years.

  “Yes,” August answered, his gaze open, solemn. “Everything and more.”

  What about love?

  She didn’t quite have the courage to ask that question, although it was the key to everything now wasn’t it? But did she want to confess her deepest feelings—and yes, she loved August with each breath she drew. She could admit to herself that she’d never stopped loving him.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said slowly.

  The wicked grin that creased his face creating a trace of laugh lines and lit his eyes felt like a match to her soul.

  “Now that sounds like a challenge, Ms. Clemmens.” He rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb, and then, still grinning, he snagged an open bottle of wine that had been left on the table. “And you know I can never resist one of your challenges.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You’re so bad.” Catalina laughed as they pulled up to the house a little more than thirty minutes later.

  August made a face. “I intend to be even badder in the worst way.”

  She tried to stifle the arrow of heat that shot between her thighs and utterly failed. Maybe she just needed to surrender. Jump into the fire. It wasn’t like she’d ever played it safe before.

  And look where that got you.

  Shut up, she told her voice of caution.

  “It’s like you’re fifteen again,” she teased and turned off the Jeep. She was going to have to get her own Jeep out here and stop burning through money with her rental and her storage facility.

  “That time it was your idea to sneak up on Axel and his prom date,” August said. “Huh.” His watchful gaze scanned the front of the house and the side path that led around to the back. “I figured Axel would be waiting out here to deck me for honking at him and Cruz as they were making out just inside the gate.” He was still on the verge of laughing.

  “From the looks of the smokin’-hot looks they were shooting each other today, I think they have a different end to their evening,” Catalina said. “But I’m sure Axel will have some sort of revenge planned for your burst of immaturity.”

  She exited the car, amazed at how tired she felt. Catalina was accustomed to pulling long hours and working hard all day, but the past week in Last Stand and having a shot at the dream job of a lifetime had her feeling like over-boiled pasta.

  “Peace offering for Axel and Cruz.” She plucked up the wine and started walking toward the back patio.

  “Hell no.” August swiped the mostly full bottle back. “That’s for us. Axel can find his own way to woo his lady.”

  “Possessive of your product already,” she teased. That was definitely a good sign. Derek had done a good job but having run some samples of the juice in the tanks, she already had some ideas for the next vintage, not all of them corresponding to Derek’s notes.

  “I’m just possessive period,” he stated.

  She should not feel a thrill. She really shouldn’t. That was a primitive feeling and beneath August. Besides, he’d never had any reason to be possessive. She’d always been a pretty sure thing.

  She stared for a moment at the front door. Nailed shut from the inside. So strange. And a little spooky? What could Axel possibly mean by that?

  “When are you going to fix the front door? It’s awkward entering through the back.”

  August’s face shut down a little. “I don’t know what Axel’s deal is. He closed it off years ago. No explanation.

  “You Wolfs love to make it hard on a girl.” She deliberately gave him an opening, hating to see the playful light die from his eyes.

  “Baby, you have no idea.” He was following her on the path and his hand snaked around her waist. “I’m just warming up.”

  “You’re pretty confident for a man with one arm in a sling.”

  “Because I’m damn creative.” He slapped her ass hard enough for it to sting.

  “I’ve always been into the arts,” she mused, skirting around back to the massive patio. She kept her voice low in case Diego was still up or Cruz and Axel were waiting to pounce in revenge.

  “That’s my line,” he murmured. “Deep into the arts.”

  “So what now, cowboy, you going to show me your life figure sketches?”

  “If you ask sweetly.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then you are in trouble,” his voice rumbled. “Is that what you want? Danger? My girl’s drawn to the dark. She likes to live on the edge.”

  Emotionally? Probably. She was here, wasn’t she? About to jump back into bed with August, and she wasn’t going to lie, she couldn’t wait.

  He reached around her, his hand poised on the slider.

  “You better let me go first in case my brother has anything unsavory planned.”

  “Chivalry from a Wolf. I must write a post for Verflucht’s website. Hordes will come.”

  “Soft opening, remember, but that’s the only thing soft about this week, I hope.”

  She rolled her eyes and followed him through the door. Both of them suspiciously scanned the great room and kitchen. Empty. Axel didn’t seem to have anything revenge-oriented on the books tonight.

  “Told you he was more focused on Cruz,” Catalina said a little smugly. She liked Cruz and hoped that she stuck around even though she’d said several times that her job at Jameson Hospital was only temporary. Catalina already felt that she had a friend, and Diego was so fun and cute.

  “Not nearly as focused as I’m going to be on you.”

  Catalina snagged two glasses and led the way to the room she’d been using. Her heart pounded out of her chest. Was she really going to do this? It was one thing to get caught up in a kiss that built to more. Quite another to calmly lead the way to her own seduction. Or was it his?

  Relax. Nothing needs to happen.

  Tell that to her hormones and her body and her overactive imagination that was already picturing him sprawled naked on her bed.

  “Ummmmm, nightcap?”

  She plunked the wine down on the dresser a little louder than she’d intended. Did people still call it that? She puffed out a nervous breath. She was acting like an anxious virgin. This was hardly her first rodeo, and she and August had explored and obsessed over and lost themselves in each other’s bodies hundreds of times.

  So why did it feel different now?

  “You’re shaking, Cat.” He smiled. “You’re safe. Nothing will happen tonight unless you want it to.”

  “I know.” She unscrewed the wine cap. “I’m g
ood. I’m just…it’s been a long time except a brief disaster with a real jerk.” Oh. My. God. She did not just tell him that.

  “Then the men of Oregon are idiots.”

  “Unless you’ve sold it, I believe you have a penthouse in Portland’s Pearl District and are an Oregon man.” She poured two small splashes of wine in each glass. Any more and she’d likely spill.

  “I rest my case,” he said. “The men in Oregon are idiots. And Last Stand is my home base now, Cat. I mean it. I’m here for the long run with you. I’m here to stay.”

  Could she believe him? Did she dare?

  She picked up her wine, guilt pinching her even through the lust, but Catalina had always been honest—probably why she was so often employment challenged.

  “I should probably tell you that the Erratic Rock Winery let me go,” she said, taking a big gulp of wine that nearly made her choke. “And I’m have about two acres spread over ten sites of orphan vines of Pinot Noir and Pinot Blanc I’ve contracted to tend and produce for my own label, so I’ll have to travel back and forth some, and all my things are in storage and…”

  August leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. His lips were cool and firm and his kiss stole her breath and thoughts.

  “To new beginnings,” he proposed. “For both of us together.”

  “I wish it were that easy,” she said feeling miserable. She sounded like a scratchy broken record instead of a femme fatale and a talented career woman seizing her destiny. Still she clinked her glass with his. Held eye contact when they took the first sip of Malbec.

  “Damn that’s spectacular.” Cat moaned.

  “It better be,” he said. “I’m not messing around. Not with you. Not with Verflucht and not with my damn legacy.”

  He wasn’t. The knowledge finally hit home for Catalina.

  And she needed to woman up and stop being seized with self-doubt. She was better than this. She took a sip of wine, not for courage, but just so they could share the taste, and then she held the liquid in her mouth, fluidly stood up and shucked off her jeans.

  That got his attention.

  “You say you’re serious about staying.” She let her ubiquitous plaid snap front shirt fall to the floor leaving her only in royal blue lace panties and a thin white tank. “You up to proving that statement?” she taunted, feeling exhilarated and so thrilled by his obvious reaction—the hard length straining against his jeans, red slash along his cheeks, navy eyes glittering with lust.