Big-Hearted Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “He did?” She looked confused. “Are you sure that was the reason?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “But you’ve raised your voice to him dozens of times. I’ve only been here eighteen months, and even I know that. Was it more like yelling?”

  “Absolutely not. Just more forceful than my normal speech. He abruptly caved and looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

  “Hm.” Kate sipped her coffee. “Maybe he did. The ghost of his parents’ awful relationship.”

  “But he said they had screaming fights where they threw things at each other. This was just normal give and take.”

  “I believe you. But instead of being in the bunkhouse during one of our get-togethers, or at the Moose on Saturday night, you were alone in this cozy domestic setting. Maybe that amplified it for him.”

  Millie groaned. “God, I hope not. Walking on eggshells isn’t going to work for me. If we’re going to live together for a week, we have details to work out.”

  “Like what? Who brings the can of whipped cream?”

  “Be serious.”

  “Just trying to lighten the mood.” She took another sip of her coffee. “I’m with you on the eggshells thing. You won’t be on the same page all the time. Then you either compromise or agree to disagree and move on.”

  “Which he can. He does it all the time with the guys.”

  “And in a sense, you used to be one of the guys. Now you’re not.”

  “And I’m thrilled about that. I was sick to death of being buddies and nothing more. He’s the one, Kate. He always has been.”

  “Then you have to go all in.”

  “I think I’m already there.” She met Kate’s gaze. “Heaven help me.”

  “You can add my support to whatever you get from heaven.”

  “Thanks, Kate.”

  “Not that I’m any great shakes at this. I’ve tried and failed. I can tell you for sure what doesn’t work, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Avoiding the issues. Thinking a good roll in the hay means that you’ve solved them. It doesn’t. They’ll come back to bite you in the ass.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jake had caught his share of ribbing from Rafe about how sweet he smelled. Then CJ had showed up and piled on. Those two had been relentless.

  Originally he’d planned to pick up a small bottle of something less floral while he was running errands in Great Falls. He’d get just enough for the week at Millie’s.

  But after the guys made such a big deal out of it, he got his back up. He searched for and found her exact brand and bought several bottles of it. The conditioner, too. He’d never bothered with it before but maybe he’d start. Her hair certainly was silky to the touch.

  All of her was silky. He tossed the bag of shampoo and conditioner in the passenger seat and turned the truck toward home. Home. Where Millie of the incredibly soft skin would be waiting for him.

  Their goodbye kiss had been damned hot. It was a wonder he’d made it out the door. Less than an hour and he’d be kissing her hello. Would she have on that same outfit with nothing underneath? Or one like it?

  Well, why not? It was just the two of them. Why would she bother with underwear? He should have taken a pair of sweats over to her house so he could do basically the same thing.

  Yeah, if they both wore easy-off clothes, that would make sense. Then they—

  A siren wailed. Sheesh, the cop was right on his tail, lights flashing. Must have come up fast. Nobody was in the other lane. Why didn’t he just go around?

  Because he’s after you, idiot. A glance at the speedometer told him why. Damn, and double damn. He turned on his flashers and pulled to the side of the road. He hadn’t had a ticket in years.

  That wasn’t the most embarrassing part, though. He’d texted Millie that he was on his way. No hiding this screw-up.

  He shut off the engine and rolled down the window as the officer approached. Not a he but a she. More women were becoming troopers—it had been on the news—but he’d never encountered one, likely because he wasn’t in the habit of driving twenty miles over the speed limit.

  He rested his hands on the steering wheel as she approached.

  “Good afternoon.”

  “Good afternoon, officer.”

  “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was speeding.”

  “Do you know how fast you were going?”

  “Last I checked, about nineteen miles over.” Sounded better than twenty.

  “I clocked you at twenty-two over.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I was speeding. No question about that.”

  “And unaware of your surroundings.”

  “No, ma’am. I heard that siren immediately.”

  “What about the lights?”

  “Saw those, too.”

  “Apparently not, since I’ve been following you with lights flashing for approximately a mile.”

  Yikes. “I see.”

  “Not very well, it seems. Prior to putting on my lights, I was behind you for a couple of miles. Usually when folks see the black and white, they slow down. You went faster.”

  “I allowed myself to be distracted.”

  “Cell phone?”

  “No. It’s in the console.”

  “I don’t smell alcohol. Are you on any medications?”

  “No, ma’am. Just eager to get home, is all.”

  Her expression softened. “Kids?”

  “No, ma’am. My… girlfriend.” The word didn’t begin to describe Millie. It was too generic and nothing about her was generic.

  “Ah.” She nodded. “I need to see your license, registration and proof of insurance, please.”

  He fetched his documents from the console and handed them over.

  She examined them and gave them back. “I’m going to issue a warning instead of a ticket, Mr. Lassiter. We don’t have a designation for driving while in love. Please be more careful in the future.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Driving while in love? The phrase bounced around in his brain through the rest of the process until he finally bid the officer goodbye.

  Taking the phone from the console, he texted Millie. I’ve been delayed. Be there ASAP. He tucked the phone back in the console, started the truck and checked for traffic before pulling out.

  How to deal with the rest of the drive so he’d stay focused on the job at hand? He’d never encountered this problem. Driving while in love.

  It wasn’t love. Sex, yes. Love, no. That took longer to develop. That—he checked his speedometer and he was five miles over. Eased up on the pedal. Switched on the radio.

  No good. They would have to be playing Breathe. He switched stations. More country love songs. Naturally. He switched again and got some dude dissecting the stock market. Perfect.

  Except five minutes of that boring stuff and he was back to Millie, the woman he liked a lot but didn’t love. That took months, years. She might think she loved him, though, and that could cause—whoops, five miles over.

  Since the radio was no help, he turned it off and started singing. He had a limited repertoire of songs he knew by heart and they were mostly from his kindergarten days. He barreled through Old MacDonald Had a Farm, She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain, and There Was an Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly.

  What else? Nothing. Had to start over with Old MacDonald. Damn, he was dying, here. Longest. Trip. Ever.

  He turned down the ranch road with a sigh of relief. Couldn’t speed on the ranch road. Shocks wouldn’t take it. Almost there.

  Except he had to drop off stuff at the barn before heading over to the cottage. The feed store in Great Falls was running a huge sale on hay nets, which had prompted the trip. The ones in the barn were raggedy. He’d also picked up a new wheelbarrow at a decent price and some replacement grooming supplies.

  He backed the truck in near the barn door, climbed out and went around to lower the tailgate.
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  Nick came out. “Heard your truck. Let me give you a hand.”

  “Thanks. You’re welcome to haul in the wheelbarrow box.”

  “You bet.”

  Jake had to smile. Nick preferred tasks that required muscle. The harder he worked his body, the more he could eat. And the guy loved to eat. “Picked up several packages of those chocolate sandwich cookies you asked for.”

  “Awesome!” Nick hefted the large box that contained the disassembled wheelbarrow. “Thanks, bro! Don’t know why they don’t carry those in the market.”

  Jake took the bags of grooming supplies. “Because nobody buys them but you. Folks here want fresh-baked stuff.”

  “I get that, but I like the way you can twist these apart and lick the frosting. You can’t do that with bakery cookies.”

  “And how old are you?”

  Nick grinned. “Old enough to know what I like and stick to it.”

  “I respect that. I promise not to tease you about those anymore. I’ll look for a different topic.”

  “God, I hope so. I don’t know what I’d do if you turned into a sober-sides.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He let Nick go ahead of him into the barn since he had the heavier load.

  “Glad to hear it. Guess I should stick this in the tack room until there’s time to put it together.”

  “Yeah, I’ll wait to sort out the grooming supplies, too.” He followed Nick through the tack room door. “Tomorrow’s good enough. I—hey there.” He glanced over as the new hire walked in.

  “Hey, Jake.” Garrett was a tall guy. Easy smile. “That was damn good chili.”

  “Just needed a little more kick, I take it.”

  He shrugged. “Nobody thought so but me. I didn’t goose it up much.”

  “It was good both ways,” Nick said. “Putting in more chili pepper meant drinking more hard cider to cool my mouth down, but I don’t have a problem with that.”

  Jake’s curiosity got the better of him. “What’s on the menu for tonight?” He’d left CJ with a list of ideas that were easy to fix and would make use of what was in the fridge and the pantry.

  Garrett shoved back his hat. “I picked up some chicken breasts today at the market. I’ve got them marinating.”

  Oh, did he, now? “Marinating in what?”

  “Stuff you had on hand—olive oil, lemon juice, brown sugar, garlic, a few other things. Your spice drawer is impressive. Couldn’t ask for better.”

  “Well, that’s good, then.” Evidently Garrett would handle a meal or two. The Brotherhood probably appreciated it. “CJ’s a big help, I’m sure.”

  “He is. Awesome chopping skills. Very loyal, too. He wasn’t about to let me add that pepper until he checked with you.”

  “We’ve fixed a lot of meals together.”

  “Speaking of that, I’d better head back to the bunkhouse and put the chicken in the oven. I just wanted to stop by and say what a great setup you’ve created.”

  “Thanks. Enjoy.”

  “I’m having a hell of a time.” Garrett touched two fingers to the brim of his hat and left.

  Nick glanced at Jake. “Don’t worry. We won’t let him take over. This is strictly because you’re at Millie’s.”

  “Yeah, but if the guy can cook, you’d get more variety if we switch off.”

  “We don’t need more variety. We like the things you fix. They’ve become Brotherhood food traditions.”

  Jake gazed at him. “That’s nice to hear. Listen, has anyone told Garrett about the Brotherhood?”

  “Not yet. Leo asked Henri if she’d mentioned it and she hasn’t. Thought it was ours to reveal.”

  “But how? And do we let him in?”

  “While he was at the market getting the chicken today, some of us had a chance to talk about it. We decided not to bring it up this week with Matt on his honeymoon and you at Millie’s.”

  “We should have talked about this sooner. Henri told us she’d hire someone to replace Seth. We should’ve had a game plan.”

  “I know.” Nick sighed.

  “We work as a team. I don’t see how we can have our exclusive group and leave him completely out of it.”

  “On the other hand, we can’t just say presto-change-o, you’re in.”

  “No. Especially not until he’s been here awhile and we get to know him. Find out if he’s worthy.”

  “Exactly.” Nick resettled his hat. “We need to see what he’s made of. That’ll take a while.”

  Jake nodded. “We can talk it over with Matt when he gets home. I’ve forgotten when he and Lucy are due back.”

  “Late Thursday night. But in the meantime, we can all be thinking about how we want to handle it.”

  “Definitely. I’ll start making notes on my phone.”

  Nick chuckled. “Yeah, sure you will.”

  “Hey. I will.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it, lover boy. Those of us who aren’t playing house will work on it.” He tugged his hat lower. “Let’s get those hay nets and cookies out of your truck so you can get your butt over to Miss Millie’s place.”

  At the mention of her name, Jake’s focus made a one-eighty. “Yeah, let’s do that.” Too bad he hadn’t put some chicken breasts in a marinade before he’d left this morning. Could be a good plan for tomorrow night’s dinner, though.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When Jake’s truck pulled in, Millie went out to greet him. Didn’t stop for a jacket. She couldn’t have stayed inside if someone had glued her boots to the floor.

  By the time he’d shut off the motor and opened his door, she was there, climbing up to the running board, reaching for him. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  “Long trip.” Swinging around in the seat, he spread his knees and pulled her in close. With a groan, his mouth came down on hers.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and wedged herself in tighter. Leaning into his kiss, she slackened her jaw and invited him to go deeper.

  His grip tightened and he lifted his head only long enough to gasp out her name. Then he plunged his tongue into her mouth again, his breathing ragged. She squirmed in his arms, desperate to get closer, to press her aching body against his.

  Wrenching his mouth away, he dragged in air. “This is crazy. We can’t… do this here.”

  “I just had to—”

  “Yeah.” His chest heaved. “Me, too.” He gazed into her eyes. “Damn, Millie.”

  She swallowed. “Think we can… make it inside?”

  “Have to.” He cleared the hoarseness from his throat. “Not having sex in your front yard.”

  She eased away from him. “Let’s make a run for it.”

  He nodded.

  She climbed down, her balance shaky. He was beside her in two seconds, his strong arm circling her shoulders.

  “Come on.” He took off, leaving the truck door standing open as he propelled her across the small yard and up the porch steps.

  In her haste, she’d left both the front door and the screen open. He flung the screen wider and nudged the door aside with his booted foot. Once they were both in, he kicked it closed.

  Then he was kissing her again, his breathing harsh as he backed her against the door, scooped his hands under her hips and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to ravish her mouth.

  Bracing her against the door, he pulled her tight against his package and kissed his way to her throat. “Unbutton your shirt.”

  She slipped the buttons free with trembling fingers. He followed her progress with his lips, tracing a path over her collarbone and down the slope of her breast. When she reached for the front clasp of her black lace bra, his low hum of approval sent moisture to her overheated lady parts.

  Dipping his head, he circled her nipple with his tongue. “You’re delicious.” His throaty murmur and his warm breath on her skin made her shiver with excitement.

  He nibbled gently, scraping his teeth lightly over her taut nipple
before finally drawing it slowly into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he gradually took in more, creating a seductive tug that arrowed straight to her womb.

  As he began to suck, he rocked forward, putting pressure on an exquisitely sensitive area. She gasped as her core clenched. He eased back and rocked forward again. And again. And again.

  She came apart, arching away from the door as undulations from a powerful climax left her helplessly clinging to his broad shoulders and gulping for air. He held her in his firm grip, keeping the connection tight until her breathing gradually slowed.

  Gradually releasing his hold on her breast, he raised his head. His hot glance traveled over her bare, quivering breasts. Then he met her gaze and gave her a smile of male satisfaction. “It’s a start.”

  “You’re…” She swallowed. “You’re amazing.”

  “It’s not me.” His voice was thick with restraint. “It’s you.” Shifting his hold, he supported her back with one arm and her hips with the other as he headed for the bedroom, his breath coming fast. “I’m desperate, Millie.”

  “Tell me what you need.”

  “You. Now.”

  “I’m here.” Heat flared again, tightening her body, preparing it for more of his intense loving.

  Moving quickly, he laid her crossways on the bed. “This won’t be elegant.” He tugged off her boots. “If you could take off—”

  “Done.” She wiggled out of her jeans and panties as he tore off his jacket and grabbed a packet from the nightstand drawer.

  Leaving on the rest of his clothes, he quickly unzipped his jeans, shoved down his briefs and rolled on the condom. Braced above her, his jeans pressed against her thighs and his shirt brushing her stomach, he slid his hands beneath her hips, probed once, and pushed home.

  With fire in his eyes, he began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster, and faster yet. His jaw tightened. “Come for me. Come again, Millie. I love making you come.”

  As if she could help it. When he brought the heat, she melted. He bore down and she surrendered to the wonder she found in his arms. When he surrendered, too, his orgasm pulsing in rhythm with hers, she wrapped herself in the glory of the moment. Jake was home.