Olivia’s story was nothing like his, and although she’d lost her mother, she’d had buckets full of love to compensate for that loss. He’d had… not much. His father had worked long hours in an attempt to keep up with his wife’s spending. Any free time had been split between his sons and the endless demands of a narcissistic wife. Rafe and Wyatt had come out on the short end of the stick.
Harlan Locke had done the best he could, but Rafe and Wyatt had basically been on their own. That’s what he wanted Jack to understand, once he could talk to him in a neutral setting, maybe around a campfire. Wyatt had great hopes for a camping trip with his half-brother.
But Jack wouldn’t be home until the end of the day, and Wyatt had plans for the hours between now and then. Putting on another pair of Jack’s jeans and a black Western shirt, he thought again about how right the clothes felt. Even the boots fit, which was an unusual coincidence.
But after he and Olivia visited the sacred site, he’d make a quick trip over to the Bunk and Grub for his clothes. Whistling, he descended the stairs and found Olivia sitting in the living room waiting for him. No one else seemed to be around.
She stood and walked toward him, her ponytail swaying and rain boots on her feet. She held out a brown felt cowboy hat. “Sarah wanted you to borrow this. She tried to get me to take one, but a hat won’t work with the way I did my hair.”
“I have a baseball cap in my truck. You could pull your ponytail through the hole in the back.”
She made a face. “Then I’ll end up with hat hair. I’m not really a hat sort of person.”
“Suit yourself.” He smiled at her as he took the hat. “It’s your nose, so it’s up to you if it gets sunburned.”
“Won’t happen. My makeup has sunscreen.”
Personally he thought the baseball cap was a more reliable option, but he knew all about choosing appearance over practicality. His mother did it constantly. Fortunately he recognized that sharing a single trait didn’t make Olivia like his mother. Olivia’s every action proved that she was not a self-centered egotist.
“Sarah drew me a map.” Olivia patted her jeans pocket. “She said the road will be muddy, but your truck should make it fine.” She gazed up at him with those incredible blue eyes. “I’m honored that you’re taking me out there, Wyatt.”
He thought of the foil packages he’d brought along and felt guilty. If she was thinking of this as a spiritual experience, and he was focused totally on sex, that would be bad. “Um, I need to confess something.” He cleared his throat. “I do want to see the site, but the main reason I suggested the trip is so that we—”
“I know that.”
“You do?” He wasn’t sounding particularly intelligent.
“Of course. Last night we were ready to rip each other’s clothes off. Unless you’ve had a change of heart, we’re both still in that mode.”
He sighed in relief. “I haven’t had a change of heart. And there was a box of condoms in the upstairs bathroom.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened.
“Did I shock you?”
“No.” She moistened her lips. “But you sure as hell ramped up the excitement level for this trip.”
He settled the hat on his head. “Then let’s take off, little lady.”
She laughed. “You really do look like a cowboy, Wyatt.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant that way. My dad romanticized the West so much that I’ve always had a thing for cowboys.”
He’d gathered as much the night before, and now she’d admitted it. “You realize once I get my stuff from the Bunk and Grub, I’ll be wearing boring old hiking clothes again. I could lose all my appeal.”
“Unless you take another approach.”
“I’d rather not spend the rest of the day shopping for cowboy duds, if that’s what you had in mind.”
“Nope, that’s not what I meant.” Her eyes held a mischievous gleam.
“What, then?”
“I’m thinking you might want to just forget about the clothes entirely. Go with the natural look.”
“Oh.” White-hot lust shot through him. He grabbed her by the hand. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.” With every moment he spent with Olivia, she became more perfect for him. He just couldn’t let her know that.
Chapter Ten
As Olivia rode shotgun in Wyatt’s truck for the second time in two days, she thought about how everything had changed since the first time they’d shared this cab. She couldn’t remember ever getting sexual with a guy so soon after meeting him, but getting sexual didn’t mean they were headed for the altar. She’d made that clear, at least.
No question that Wyatt had to be the yummiest guy she’d ever run across, though. He was clean-shaven again, and had that mint scent going on. When he’d put on the cowboy hat, she’d nearly swooned with lust.
“Want the windows down or up?” Wyatt asked.
“Down is fine.”
“Good.” He lowered both windows with the buttons on the driver’s side. “Didn’t want to cause a hair issue with the wind.”
“I’m not that focused on my hair. I just don’t like hats.”
“Or hat hair,” he said with a grin.
“I’m a beautician. I practically grew up in a salon. I think about these things.”
“I know. I’m just teasing you. You agreed to go camping with me sometime, so I know you can’t be totally a girly-girl.”
“I’m pretty much a girly-girl, but I realize I’m not in Pittsburgh anymore.”
“So what was so important about moving out here for your dad, anyway? It sounds like Pittsburgh was home.”
“It was, but my dad loves old western movies, has a whole library of them. From the time I was a little kid, he always said if he ever came into money, he’d move out to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. So the money arrived, and here we are.”
“And is he happy with the move?”
“Delirious.” Olivia smiled fondly as she thought about how happy her father was these days. “When he’s not working in his lab, he sits out on his front porch swing and stares at the mountains.”
“What about the cowboy thing? Did he take up riding or get all duded up?”
“No. Says he’s too old to start learning to ride, and he really doesn’t care about clothes. Trust me on that one. Just being here seems to be enough.” She glanced over at him. “Why?”
“I’m sort of fascinated by his story, I guess. And if this is what he wanted, I’m glad his razorblade invention gave it to him. I’m also glad he talked you into coming along.”
“Once I knew he was completely serious, I couldn’t imagine sending him out here by himself. Besides, as I said, he’d watched cowboy movies for all those years, so for me, cowboys were heroes.”
“So you came out to find yourself a cowboy?”
“Not exactly. Maybe more to window shop.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
She reached over and ran a hand along his denim-covered thigh, causing the muscles to contract under her palm.
He sucked in a breath.
“So far, so good.” Wow, he was pure dynamite. Touching him sent flames licking through her.
“Better cut that out if you want to actually make it to the sacred site.” His voice roughened. “I’ve already got sex on the brain.”
“I have sex on the brain, too.” She gave his thigh a squeeze and moved her hand. “But I want to see the sacred site. It was mentioned when I was here for Emily and Clay’s wedding, and I’ve been curious ever since.”
“Then we’ll definitely see that site before we get naked, but I’m warning you, I do intend for us to get naked. I have a bed in the back of this truck and I know how to use it.”
Olivia’s laugh was a little breathless. “I hadn’t really thought about where we’d do the deed.”
“Believe me, I have.”
“Do you even care about the sacred site?” She was f
ast losing interest, herself.
“Sure I do, but given a choice between admiring the sacred site and admiring your naked body, I’d ditch the site in a second.”
“Fortunately we don’t have to choose. We’re not on a timetable so I think we have a couple of hours to mess around out here, which can include viewing the site and… other things.”
“Which is very lucky, because if for some reason we’re thwarted and don’t have sex, I’m going to have to find another outlet for my frustration. Maybe I can chop a few cords of wood for Sarah.”
“A cord is a lot of wood. I’ve learned that since living here.”
“I know how much it is. I’m not exaggerating. If I can’t get you naked soon, I’m liable to turn into freaking Paul Bunyan, only instead of having a blue ox, I’ll have blue—”
“I get the picture.” Dominique was right. Wyatt was extremely entertaining, besides being sexy as hell. “Maybe we have to just do it so you won’t turn into a wood-chopping maniac. It might be my civic duty to make sure you’re sexually satisfied before we drive back to the ranch.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I barely slept last night, and here’s the kicker — I wasn’t slightly interested in relieving the pressure on my own. Usually that’s a reasonable option when I’m hot and bothered, but I didn’t just want a climax. I wanted you.”
“Same here,” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and I don’t know what that’s all about. We’ve only known each other since yesterday. That’s crazy.”
“Probably just hormones.”
She nodded. “Or the phase of the moon.”
“Or my cowboy outfit.”
“Well, there’s that. Maybe you should leave the hat on while we do it.”
Wyatt smiled. “Whatever it takes, Olivia. Whatever it takes.”
She didn’t think it would take much, and the hat really wasn’t necessary. Wyatt was hot no matter what he wore, or didn’t wear.
Wyatt was relieved that his questions about Olivia’s father hadn’t aroused her suspicion. Now that he knew what had tanked her other relationships, he wondered how weird her dad actually was. Yet any man who had tried so valiantly to be a good father had earned Wyatt’s respect before they ever came face-to-face, if they ever did. Given the stakes, Wyatt felt somewhat nervous about that prospect.
But he wouldn’t worry about that now because he’d been telling the truth about his lust level. Her hand on his thigh had topped it off nicely, and now he was at full capacity, the needle veering steadily toward the red zone.
He checked the truck’s speedometer. “We should be getting close according to the mileage on that map Sarah drew for you.”
“It’s off to the right, she said, and doesn’t stick up very far. We’re looking for a gray, flat rock.” Olivia gazed out through the windshield. “I think that could be it, up ahead.” Leaning forward, she put both hands on the dash. “Yep, I think so. Pull over.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. There was a spot on the side of the road that had been cleared of vegetation. Ruts made by previous vehicles still held some water, so he eased the truck over carefully, loathe to get stuck out here after claiming he could make it out and back on his own.
Once he was somewhat off the road, he killed the engine. Ahead lay an impressive slab of granite that stuck out of the ground a foot or more. There were no markers, but he hadn’t expected any. The Chance family and the Shoshones before them had wanted to keep this area on the downlow.
“Let’s get out.” Olivia unsnapped her seat belt. “From what I heard during the wedding, you’re supposed to stand on it to get the full effect.”
“I tried to get my mother to tell me what this rock was all about, but she said it was stupid superstition. She’s not particularly in touch with her Native American side, apparently.”
“It has to do with the veins of white quartz running through the granite.” Olivia opened her door. “They’re supposed to give you mental clarity.”
“Hang on. It’s muddy out there. Let me come around and help you out.”
“I’ll be careful.” She started down.
So much for gallantry. But at least she had on the rubber rain boots this time. He, on the other hand, was wearing Jack’s old boots, and he didn’t want to ruin them. Unfastening his seatbelt, he opened his door and stepped down, looking for whatever footing he could find where he wouldn’t sink ankle-deep.
“Wyatt, you have to come and see this!”
He glanced over and discovered she’d already made it to the rock. Sitting on the edge of it, she pulled off her boots and left them sitting in the mud as she swung herself up on the granite slab and walked barefoot to its center. “I love it,” she said. “This is a special place. I can feel it.”
He wasn’t sure if he loved the site or not, but he loved watching her standing there, feet spread, toes flexing against the smooth stone. She might have spent most of her life in beauty salons, but she would adapt to the outdoors. He sensed an adventurer’s spirit in her.
But he’d be wise not to comment on that, either, in case she’d think he was trying to mold her into his perfect companion. Funny, but he’d always imagined he’d end up with a fellow hiker, someone who already owned boots with a serious tread. Instead he was weaving fantasies about a beautician who’d never been camping in her life.
He chose a route over to the rock that would minimize the amount of mud he’d get on the boots. In retrospect, he should have worn the pair of rain boots he’d used last night. But they didn’t look as cool as Jack’s cowboy boots, and now that he knew Olivia’s weakness for cowboys, he couldn’t help wanting to fit the image.
“Just a suggestion,” she said as he approached, “but I would sit on the edge and take off my boots, if I were you. And your socks, too. I think the way to experience this rock is barefoot.”
“You’re experiencing something?” He agreed there was no point in tracking mud on the weather-polished surface of the rock, which had recently been washed clean by rain, so he sat on the edge and took his boots and socks off, as she’d suggested.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I am. I feel… lighter.”
Swinging around to face her, Wyatt got to his feet. He’d heard the theory that certain rocks transmitted energy, and he couldn’t deny that in the iron-rich red rocks of Utah and Arizona, he’d felt something vibrant in the air. Some of his clients wouldn’t hike in those areas. They said the red rock agitated them too much.
This was different, though. The rock felt cool and soothing under his feet as he walked toward her. A gentle sense of peace flowed through him, and he let out his breath in an easy sigh.
“Look at how it sparkles in the sun.” Olivia pointed to the veins of white quartz running like zebra stripes through the granite.
As Wyatt’s glance roamed the surface of the rock, the quartz glittered beneath his feet. “That’s kind of pretty.”
She held out her hand. “Come closer.”
When he touched her warm skin, something flowed between them, a light current that pulsed through his system, making him aware of his surroundings as if he’d never quite seen them before. The green of the trees seemed richer and the blue of the sky grew more intense.
He picked up the scent of wildflowers just beginning to bloom and the quiet drone of bees. He was hyper-aware of Olivia watching him, her pink lips parted, her blue eyes filled with wonder. He heard her soft breathing and found himself matching that rhythm.
He didn’t realize that he’d gradually closed the distance between them until she lifted her face to his and all he had to do was lean down for his lips to touch hers in a slow, easy kiss. Nothing in his life had ever been this innocent, this sweet. His breath caught.
Pictures flitted through his mind — Olivia walking down an aisle strewn with flowers, Olivia laughing on a beach somewhere, Olivia cradling a newborn baby. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes and saw his future. He opened his mou
th to tell her.
But then, even though the gauzy pictures lingered in his mind, he remembered. If that future was to become reality, he couldn’t go after it. He couldn’t pursue the dreams that tempted him so. He had to let them come to him.
“Come back to the truck with me.” His voice was rusty with emotion. “I need you.”
“I need you, too.”
That was all he had to hear. Swinging her up in his arms, he carried her back across the smooth rock. He stepped into the mud, not caring, and took her to the back of the camper.
He was forced to set her on her feet in the mud while he opened the back window and let down the tailgate. Then she climbed in and he climbed after her, muddy feet and all. Nothing mattered but the fever in his veins and the hope that if he made this ultimate connection with her, the wispy images that had taunted him as they stood on the rock would gain form and substance, would have a chance to become reality.
She started taking off her clothes. Thank God she was as eager for this as he was, because undressing her in the cramped quarters would have been a challenge. Although he’d insinuated that he knew how to use his camper as a seduction site, he never had. He’d only slept solo back here.
Tents were infinitely better for making love, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she seemed to understand that. Sitting on the quilt covering his double mattress in the back of his truck, she pulled off her T-shirt and unhooked her bra.
He yanked open his shirt and wrenched it off before sitting on the tailgate to get out of his jeans and his briefs. He stuffed his clothes in a corner after extracting the all-important condom from his pocket. Then he set his borrowed hat on top of the balled-up jeans.
“You’re not going to wear it?”
He gazed into the dim light of the camper’s interior. She was stretched out on the quilt, propped up on one elbow, every scrap of clothing gone. His heart thudded wildly in his chest. She was… incredible.
Count on a Cowboy (Sons of Chance Book 7) Page 10