To Tame a Texas Cowboy

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To Tame a Texas Cowboy Page 17

by Julie Benson


  Chapter Thirteen

  When Cooper and Cheyenne walked into the house, Rowdy jumped off the couch and raced across the room. He alternated between running circles around them and shoving his nose into Cooper’s hand begging for attention. Penny, on the other hand, sat quietly at Cheyenne’s feet.

  “My dog’s way better behaved then yours,” she teased, trying to get rid of the awkward cloud that had settled around them on the drive home.

  “Yeah, guess I should work on that.” Ignoring Rowdy’s behavior, Cooper cupped Cheyenne’s face in his hands and kissed her. As his lips moved over hers, tasting and teasing, she slipped her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. Then, his gaze locked with hers. In his eyes she saw an intensity and passion she’d never seen in a man’s eyes before.

  What would it feel like to be loved by this determined, loyal, passionate man? She’d never dreamed a man like Cooper existed. Honest, caring, steadfast, all mixed in a sexy package.

  Being caught up in a fire that hot would leave me with memories to burn a lifetime.

  “Hold that thought while I take care of the dogs.”

  Cooper reached for Penny’s leash, but Cheyenne waved him off. He motioned for Rowdy to follow him. Cheyenne and Penny walked beside him, and a minute later with the dogs outside, Cooper stood in front of her again.

  “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to rush. We have time.”

  She was surer of him than she’d been about anything or anyone in a long time. He was what she needed in her life. At least now. She was so weary of keeping herself propped up and he was a strong man she could lean on for a while. “Maybe we have time. Maybe we don’t. None of us knows for sure. That day my dad died, I had no idea that was the last time I’d see him.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Cooper’s intensity, the husky passion and honesty in his voice shot through her until she couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

  The closer she came to her neurosurgeon appointment, the more fear gnawed at her. The more she wanted to escape, if only for a little while. She wanted to forget all the medical decisions she’d have to make. Forget her worry over whether she could return to the rodeo and what she’d do if she couldn’t. Cooper could make her forget everything but him.

  Her hands slid up his broad chest, settling over his heart. The frantic beat pulsed against her palms. “Don’t you get it? Life’s risky, and I want to make the most of it. I don’t want to put off living.”

  He cupped her face. “What happens tonight, we live with tomorrow. Making love changes things between people.”

  “I can handle it.” She needed a connection in the most intimate way possible with this man standing in front of her, his eyes blazing with desire and concern for her. “I refuse to have regrets, and if we don’t make love tonight, I’ll regret it. Now will you shut up and kiss me?”

  Cooper grinned and the fire in his eyes blazed hotter. “I love it when you take charge.”

  His lips covered hers, the kiss starting out tender, but she wanted more, and leaned into him. As she deepened the kiss, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his hard body. His presence enveloped her. Pent-up sexual frustration and need, mixed with desire for Cooper coursed through her. Somehow, he’d reached deep inside her and touched her soul in a way no one else ever had. She shoved aside the both thrilling and terrifying thought.

  Cooper scooped her into his arms. “My bed or yours?” But before she could answer, he shook his head. “Forget I asked. Mine, it’s bigger.”

  “I’d have been fine with the couch. All I want is you. Now.”

  He carried her to his room and placed her on his bed. Instead of stretching out, she knelt in front of him. Desperate to see him, she reached to unbutton his dusty-blue shirt. Instead of letting her, he covered her hands with his larger ones.

  His passionate gaze zeroed in on her. “Last chance to change your mind.”

  “Will you quit asking me that? Geez, you’ll give me a complex,” she snapped, her passion and frustration growing unbearable.

  He arched a brow and smiled.

  “I do not have any complexes. I have a brain tumor. Two entirely different things,” she teased.

  “How do you keep your sense of humor?”

  “It’s either laugh or curl up in a ball and cry.” Her chin rose in defiance. “And I refuse to do the second.”

  “You’re amazing.” The intensity of his gaze made her suck in her breath.

  He can see into my soul. He knows me in a way no one else ever will. The thought fueled her desire. There was something intoxicating about being so connected to Cooper.

  She needed him. Needed to forget. Needed to be in control of something since her life was so out of control. This time, when she went to unbutton his shirt, he let her. When the garment hung open, she sat back on her heels to take a good long look. Heat blasted through her, leaving her aching. “Who would’ve guessed you hide some fine abs under your button-down shirts and vet coat?”

  He blushed and hooked his fingers in her belt loops and pulled her toward him. “You are so beautiful, but what’s incredibly sexy is your confidence and determination.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She slid his shirt off his shoulders, and he pulled away to shrug the garment off. The material fluttered to the floor, leaving Cooper in front of her wearing only worn jeans. Her breath came out in fast, harsh puffs as she caressed his warm skin.

  He sucked in his breath and covered her mouth with his. His need flowed through her, and the evidence of his desire pressed against her hip. She nibbled at his lip. When his lips parted, her tongue teased his. Her hand slid down his body to cup his manhood through his jeans. His groan echoed around them.

  His hand covered hers. “Slow down, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t do slow.”

  “Let me show you the value of taking your time.” Desire flared in Cooper’s eyes, stark and honest, sending her heart rate sky high. A man had never looked at her like this before—as if no one else existed. Men usually found her intimidating, but not Cooper.

  The air around them crackled with passion and anticipation. His hand covered her breast and teased her nipple through her clothes. Pleasure shot through her, powerful and overwhelming. His clean, earthy scent surrounded her. She moaned and ground her hips against him.

  *

  Though he wanted to go slow and savor every touch and emotion with Cheyenne, the woman wasn’t going to let him. Maybe next time.

  He reached for her belt, undid the buckle, and popped the button on her jeans. Then he tugged her T-shirt free and smiled. It read “I wasn’t born in a barn, but I got there as fast as I could.” That was so Cheyenne. Honest and unpretentious. “Cute saying, but this has got to go.”

  “Yes, sir.” Flashing a mischievous grin, Cheyenne made quick work of the shirt, tossing it to the floor with his.

  Cooper sucked in his breath at the sight of her before him, her lacy black bra a stark contrast against her pale skin. “Apparently I’m not the only one with surprises.”

  She leaned forward and kissed along his collarbone. Her nails flicked over his nipples and his fevered groan reverberated through the room. His control near breaking, he slipped off her bra to caress her. He rolled her sensitive nipple between this thumb and index finger and delighted in her rising passion and need.

  He lifted her in his arms and deposited her in the middle of the bed. He peeled off her jeans and the matching bit of black lace she wore underneath. Then he shrugged out of his jeans and joined her.

  Their movements grew frantic as they explored each other. Desire for this proud, determined woman rolled over him with an intensity he never imagined he’d experience again. Cheyenne had barreled into his life, showing him he’d been marking time, simply existing.

  He reached between their bodies to caress her more intimately, as his mouth covered her breast. She clutched his shoulders as her body strained and tightened. She rocked against his hand and he reveled in h
er escalating pleasure.

  “Please. I need you,” she pleaded, her voice breathy and strained as she tried to pull him on top of her.

  He reached into his bedside table and retrieved a foil packet. After slipping on the condom, he pulled Cheyenne on top of him. His heated flesh slid into her. His hands caressed her breasts as she began to move. His self-control thread thin, he let her set their pace. Her head flung back, she cried out his name as she reached fulfillment. His self-control splintered, he joined her.

  *

  Cooper woke the next morning cuddled against Cheyenne, his arms wrapped around her. Last night he’d said making love changed people. At the time, he’d been concerned she didn’t realize the fact. He’d been worried about the wrong person.

  After his recent disasters with women and his lack of desire, he’d wondered if part of his soul died with Olivia. Now he knew that wasn’t true. How could Cheyenne become so entangled in his life in such a short time? How could he be half in love with her? Dang if Ty hadn’t been right. He didn’t do casual.

  The question was, what did he do about it? He and Cheyenne couldn’t go back, and the future was a question. Guess that made it easy. They lived for now. But what did that mean in practical day-to-day reality?

  Zane’s right. You think too much.

  Looking at Cheyenne, her face relaxed and free of the burdens weighing on her, he decided to let her sleep while he made breakfast. He wished they could spend the day together, but the clinic was booked solid until noon. Then afterward she had lunch plans with her mother and he an appointment at the Hernandez place.

  Cooper slid out of bed and slipped on his jeans and T-shirt. Then, carrying his boots, he tiptoed into the living room where he found two irate faces pressed against the patio door. After grabbing bribery treats from the cupboard, he let the dogs inside. Rowdy gobbled his down and all was forgiven with the dog rubbing against him, begging for attention. However, Penny accepted the treat, but wasn’t so quick to forgive.

  After feeding the dogs, he turned to the kitchen. Coffee brewing, he set about cooking sausage and eggs for breakfast tacos and considered the turn in his life since Cheyenne crashed into it. He felt content, no more than that, and it wasn’t simply because of last night. He looked forward to what could be with his practice and his life instead of what he’d lost. If he didn’t have the SeizureReader to deal with he could completely move on.

  Again, he considered if it was time to release control of the project. When he’d promised Olivia he’d finish what she started, he never realized it would consume so much of his life. He’d felt the need to keep the SeizureReader close to her original vision, but that fight was wearing on him. How much would her concept have changed if she’d remained in charge? Surely she’d have made concessions.

  He tossed the sausage into a bowl and turned to the eggs. He needed to completely move forward with his life, with Cheyenne, but could he do that while holding on tight to the SeizureReader? Cooper tossed the eggs with the sausage, retrieved the corn tortillas and threw together breakfast.

  Plate and coffee cup in hand, he turned, intent on delivering Cheyenne’s breakfast in bed, but instead he found her standing beside the kitchen table, dressed in form-fitting jeans, a turquoise western-style shirt and boots, her face dusted with the prettiest pink blush.

  Ignoring his morning after jitters, he strolled to her, kissed her lightly, and handed her the mug and plate. “Good morning.”

  “You made coffee and breakfast?”

  “It was the least I could do since we were up a good portion of the night.” Heat rushed up his neck into his face, and he feared this time it was him blushing as he returned to collect his breakfast. Dang it. A man his age shouldn’t be this uncomfortable after spending the night with a woman. ’Course, most men his age had been with more than two women.

  “If word of your cooking gets around, every single woman who doesn’t have a pet will get one so they can call for an appointment to see you.”

  “That could be a good marketing strategy to increase business.”

  “Should I be worried about the competition?”

  After placing his plate and mug on the table, he placed his hands on her cheeks, leaned over and kissed her again. His mouth moved over hers, teasing and nipping at her lower lip, before deepening the kiss. She tasted of strong coffee, cream, and a touch of sweetness. When he pulled away from her, they were both breathing hard.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  He smiled. If only she knew how little she had to worry about in that department.

  She sipped her coffee. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but I keep forgetting. I’ve got an appointment with a neurosurgeon in Dallas a week from Wednesday. Is it a problem for me to take the afternoon off?”

  Reality hit Cooper right between the eyes. Surgeon? She was considering surgery. The frightening image of her on a gurney being wheeled to the operating room flashed before him. His last bite of breakfast soured on the way down. His hand shook as he placed the remainder of his breakfast taco on his place, his appetite gone. How could he have forgotten her health issues and how serious they were?

  When he recovered enough to speak, he said, “You can have the whole day off if you want. Give me a light day in the office or better yet, on-site appointments.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but a half day is fine. My appointment isn’t until three, and I’d rather stay busy. Otherwise, all I’ll do is sit around and worry. I admit I’m pretty nervous about this.”

  Tell her about your father.

  The conversation with his mom replayed in his head, reminding him his father was only seeing patients who qualified for his surgical study. She’d even sent him the copy of The Journal of Neurosurgery with the article on his father. When he’d seen the man’s arrogant face on the cover, he’d dang near had flashbacks. Where had he put that magazine? He needed to get rid of it. Having it around had to be bad karma.

  What was the point in telling Cheyenne he knew a top neurosurgeon when she couldn’t get an appointment with him? It would be cruel to give her hope and yank it away, and that was what would happen. Because if his father was fixated on his study, nothing else mattered.

  He hadn’t pressed Cheyenne about her prognosis since that one time, figuring if she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. But now he wanted to know. Needed to. “The neurologist thinks surgery’s possible?”

  “He says that’s for a neurosurgeon to decide, so he referred me. He’s also talked about radiation.” She explained how that could shrink the tumor. Since the tumor decreased the space between her brain and skull, shrinking its size even a little stood a chance of reducing her seizures. “The problem is, radiation isn’t likely to be a permanent solution.”

  “But there’s no down side.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.” She wrapped her hands around the coffee mug as if trying to absorb its warmth. “If I can have surgery, the tumor would be gone. I’d have my life back.”

  A life that probably wouldn’t include him. She’d no longer need the clinic job. She’d return to the rodeo circuit and could live anywhere. Would she even want to return to Wishing? He’d known her leaving was a possibility, but he hadn’t expected to deal with the reality this soon.

  Forget about that. Enjoy today. Deal with the future when it arrived.

  Cheyenne was right last night when she said none of them knew when their time would run out. He refused to miss a moment with her.

  “I wish we didn’t have to work. Saturday appointments are the major downside of a solo practice.”

  Cheyenne glanced at her phone. “It’s only seven thirty. I think we have time for a quickie. You interested?”

  “What do you think?” Cooper asked as he scooped Cheyenne into his arms and carried her back to bed.

  *

  When Cheyenne woke this morning to find herself still in Cooper’s bed, she’d been shocked. Previous times when she’d been intimate with a man, she’d w
oken during the night and left to avoid the awkward morning after. Not only that, but instead of making her feel closer to a man, making love had the opposite effect on her.

  But not with Cooper. Instead of wanting to get away, she’d wanted to spend more time with him. She blushed again at the memory of her suggesting they have a quickie before work. They’d barely made it to the clinic before their eight o’clock, Lilian Fowler arrived with her schnauzer.

  So far, the morning had gone smoothly, but Cooper was right. Saturday appointments were a bummer. Cheyenne glanced at the clock on her computer and then at Penny. “Only fifteen minutes and the weekend’s ours, starting with lunch with my mom.” She scratched the dog behind the ears. “Mom’s not a dog person, and she can be pretty opinionated and overprotective where I’m concerned, but don’t let her intimidate you.”

  Penny tilted her head and stared at Cheyenne as if to ask with that glowing description, why the heck are we having lunch with her.

  A couple days ago when she’d accepted her mother’s invitation, her plan had been to find a way to wiggle out of going. But when she’d woke this morning snuggled against Cooper’s strong body, all glowy warm from two enthusiastic love making sessions, lunch with her mother hadn’t felt as overwhelming or bleak. Maybe it was time to repair their relationship.

  The bell over the clinic door jingled, and Cheyenne glanced through the window into the waiting room to see her mother walk in. A big smile on her face, she approached. “I’m so glad you agreed to lunch. You said you’ve been busy at the clinic and with your grooming idea, but I started thinking you were avoiding me.”

  A twinge of guilt rippled through Cheyenne because her mother had known what was going on. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made time to see you sooner.”

  “We’re getting to catch up now, and that’s what’s important.”

  Cheyenne walked to the office door, held it open, and invited her mom in. “We can talk while we wait for Cooper to finish with Ruth Tijerina. Once I check her out, we can go.”

  Her mother stepped past her in a familiar waft of Chanel No. 5. Her practical, safe flats clicked on the industrial tile floor as they made their way into the office, where Cheyenne moved a chair from the corner closer to her desk.

 

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