A Cowboy's Heart (The McGavin Brothers Book 4)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Oh, I saw it.” His eyes darkened. “Catching you putting it on…I almost came.”

  She slipped her hands under his open shirt and wrapped him in her arms. “Glad you didn’t.”

  “Me, too. But if it ever happens, not my fault.” He dragged in a shaky breath. “What is it about you?”

  “The music.” She spread her fingers over his back and held on as he rocked forward again, filling her, easing back, leaving her craving more.

  “The music, and your hot little body, wanting me, needing this.”

  “Yes.”

  His voice roughened. “You’re almost there. I can feel it.” He increased the pace.

  Digging her fingertips into his back, she whimpered.

  “That’s it, heat up a little more, a little more…”

  She erupted in a noisy outpouring of wails and moans.

  His laughter was jubilant as he pumped harder. “Use those pipes, girl! Tell me how it is!”

  “Fabulous!” She shouted it as the party continued with wave upon wave of intense pleasure. It couldn’t get any better.

  Then it did. With a groan of surrender, he bore down and let go, his voice raw with need as he called her name and pulsed within her.

  Breathing hard, eyes closed, he stayed braced above her for several long seconds. “Never done it with my boots on,” he murmured.

  “Are you sure they’re still on?” She rubbed lazy circles on his back. “You might have blown them right off your feet.”

  His deep chuckle sounded nice. “I’m not saying it’s impossible.” He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “But when I curl my toes, I feel boot leather.”

  “Would make a great story, though, wouldn’t it?”

  “Or cute lyrics for a song. How’s this?” He cleared his throat. “Got me a hard-lovin’ woman, blew the boots right off my feet.”

  She grinned at him and took a quick breath. “And I won’t be complainin’, Lord knows I can take the heat.”

  “I think we have a hit.” He leaned down and kissed her gently before leaving the bed. “I’ll be back.”

  “Take some clothes off while you’re at it!” she called as he disappeared into the bathroom. Then she lay there smiling. The sex was great. The other stuff – the laughter, the singing, the way they automatically understood each other – was more than great. Jimi was important, but so was this.

  Bryce didn’t appear naked as she’d expected. Instead he wore his jeans but his chest and feet were bare. “I have an idea.”

  “You want to make a raid on the kitchen.”

  “A kitchen raid wasn’t on my activities list, but we could do an add on. Let’s go downstairs.”

  She liked a mystery as well as the next person. She sat up. “I’ll put on my clothes.”

  “Just wear your nightgown.”

  “There’s nothing to it.”

  “There’s enough, and nobody will be around, anyway.”

  “There are no security cameras?”

  “I’m the manager. No cameras, I promise. But don’t ever suggest it to Lou. He might set some up. Then I’d have another reason to buy the GG just so I could get rid of them.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go have fun.” Holding tight to her hand, he led her out the door and down the darkened stairs.

  “What did you mean, another reason to buy the Guzzling Grizzly? Are you thinking about it?”

  “Lou’s offered it to me and he’d work with me on financing. Plus, I have an in at the bank.”

  “Jo Fielding.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you think you might do that? Buy this place?”

  “I was ready to turn it down and then tonight Mike told me his grand plan. He wants to be partners in owning the bar.”

  “You two would be great business partners.”

  “Wow, you didn’t even hesitate in making that comment.”

  “Mike seems like a good guy. It could work out well for both of you.”

  “I think so, too.” He walked to the middle of the dance floor and released her hand. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

  Standing on the dance floor in her nightgown was daring. Sexy, too. Her pulse raced in anticipation. When a faceted disco ball descended from the ceiling and colored lights focused on it, she had a glimmer of what he was up to. His version of Stealing a Poor Cowboy’s Heart poured from the speakers as the mirrored ball began to turn.

  Walking back on the floor, he executed an impressive deep bow. “May I have this dance?”

  She grasped sections of her nightgown’s skirt and curtsied. “You may, kind sir.” And they were off, gliding around the floor as the disco ball bathed them in glitter.

  Bare feet made no noise and her nightgown swirled with each turn. Resting her hand on his shoulder and absorbing the play of muscles beneath his taut skin left her breathless. His touch was light but firm, his guidance perfect. And the warm emotion in his blue eyes…magic. The lyrics flowed around them, words of longing and love. If he’d written them for Charity, he clearly wasn’t thinking about her now.

  The song ended and he drew her into his arms for a long, soulful kiss. At last he lifted his head and looked down at her as the disco ball spun. “Best waltz ever.” His voice was husky.

  She nodded, still caught in the spell.

  He kissed her again, slowly and gently, before cupping her face and gazing into her eyes. “Just so you know, I didn’t write that for Charity.”

  “I wondered.”

  “She thinks I did.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “People in Eagles Nest think so, too. Trev is the only one who knows the truth.”

  “You’d better be planning on telling me.”

  He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I am. I could have told you last night, but I got all wonky hearing my music. I just wasn’t ready to hear the me I was before.” He peered at her. “Am I making any sense?”

  “Sure.”

  “But I’m fine with the song, now. The ones I wrote for Charity might have to go, but this tune is older than that. I wrote it for Mandy.”

  She blinked. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope, and I’m letting you in on a secret Trev and I have kept for eleven years. Mandy has no idea and I want it to stay that way.”

  “Why would you write a song for Mandy?”

  “Because at fifteen I had a gigantic crush on her. Trev was the only one who ever heard the song and he’s a vault. I was two years younger than Mandy and had no chance in hell.”

  “But you ended up selling that song.”

  “Yep. Years later, Trev asked me to play it for him and we both concluded it wasn’t half bad. I was with Charity by then and when everyone assumed I wrote it for her, I couldn’t very well deny it. Then it became a hit and she bragged about it being her song. I used to feel bad about that.”

  “But not anymore.”

  He laughed. “Not so much. Maybe in another eleven years I’ll tell Mandy. But I’d rather the secret didn’t come out when she’s about to marry my brother.”

  “Good call.”

  “Hey, I’m in the mood to grab some peach cobbler. How about you?”

  “You know it. Dancing works up an appetite.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and released her. “Not just dancing.”

  She followed him into the kitchen and moments later they returned with heaping bowls of cobbler and ice cream. “Let’s sit at a table and admire the disco ball while we eat.”

  “Perfect.” He sat catty-corner from her.

  By now they had their routine down. Cobbler, then conversation. She must have been ravenous because she polished hers off before he did. She pushed her empty bowl away with a sigh. “That cobbler alone is reason enough to live here.”

  Bryce cleaned the last melted ice cream from his bowl. “Yes, it is.” He moved his bowl and glanced at her. “Are you looking for reasons? I mean, beyond the immediate one of Jimi.”

  “Maybe. The other day Jo said she hoped the
town was making a good impression and I’d decide to stay after Jimi’s gone.”

  “And is it?”

  Smiling, she took inventory of the man sitting inches away. Compelling blue eyes, strong jaw, broad shoulders, muscular chest and six-pack abs. Plus he could sing and dance. “You’re certainly doing your part.”

  His eyes sparkled. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Then there’s my fabulous house, the Guzzling Grizzly—which has a disco ball I didn’t know about—and friendly people everywhere. They even like my music. What’s not to love?”

  “Sounds like a ringing endorsement.” He reached across the table and took her hand in both of his. “For the record, I’d love you to stay.”

  “I’m seriously thinking about it. And if I plan to stay, I need to socialize Jimi. I shouldn’t have to wait until he’s gone before I can have a party at my house.”

  “True.”

  “Speaking of that, are you following me home again in the morning?”

  “Planning on it.” He brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Maybe I’ll actually get a glimpse of him.”

  “I hope so. You’re the first crack in his armor.”

  He began kissing his way up her inner arm. “How about your armor? Am I making any headway there?”

  She shivered with delight. “When it comes to you, I have no armor.”

  “Good to know.” Standing, he drew her slowly out of her chair. “Then maybe I could talk you into making love.” His gaze was hot as he guided her away from the table.

  “Sure could.” Excitement thrummed through her veins. “Like you said, the bed’s not far.”

  “Can’t wait that long.”

  “But it’s only—”

  “Come with me.” He tugged her across the dance floor and up on the stage. “I have a fantasy that needs fulfilling.”

  “You want to make love on the stage?”

  “On the stage and on this stool.” Spanning her waist, he lifted her up.

  She sucked in a breath. “Seriously?”

  His kiss gave her the answer. He cupped the back of her head with one hand while he plundered her mouth. Nudging her thighs apart, he unzipped his jeans.

  She gripped his shoulders and held on as the dark, erotic passion in his kiss awakened primitive urges she’d never set free.

  Lifting his mouth from hers, he murmured his intentions in explicit terms.

  She gulped.

  “Am I shocking you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “No!”

  “Thank God.” Foil crinkled as he pulled out a condom.

  “You…planned…”

  “Yeah.” Brushing aside her nightgown, he cupped her bottom in both hands. “Yeah, I did.” His breathing was ragged. “Chew me out later if you want.” He tilted her hips, found her entrance and drove home.

  Intense. Incoherent cries of pleasure spilled from her mouth as she gasped in time with each vigorous thrust. Quivering in the grip of stormy emotions, she reached for the climax that she craved more than air.

  Reality burned to ashes in the heat of sensual friction. Delicious. Maddening. Never let it end. No, end it now. Bryce! He could take her to that place. Hold on. Hold on!

  Wrapping her legs around his hips, she threw back her head. Sparkling light was everywhere, flashing, whirling, drawing her up, up and there. She came apart in spectacular fashion, arching her back and crying out until her throat hurt.

  His deep moans mingled with her cries as he locked in tight and pulsed within her.

  Time lost meaning. All that mattered was learning to breathe. Then his strong arms gathered her close and held her against his heaving chest. She let go of his shoulders and slipped her arms around his neck. His rapid heartbeat thudded against her ear.

  He stroked her hair. “Thank you.”

  With her ear against his chest, his voice sounded like the soft rumble of distant thunder. “Mm.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mm-hm.” Okay didn’t begin to cover it, but explaining would take too much effort.

  “I didn’t think this through very well. Guess I’ll have to improvise.” He was still intimately connected to her as he scooped her up from the stool. They continued to be linked while he carried her up the stairs, through the open door and gently laid her on the bed. He was panting as he left for the bathroom.

  Gradually the haze cleared from her brain. She sat straight up. After making incredible love to her, he’d carried her up a steep flight of stairs so he could lay her down in a comfy spot. “You’re a god among men, Bryce McGavin!” she called out.

  He came out of the bathroom grinning and buttoning his jeans. “So that wasn’t too crazy for you?”

  “Oh, it was crazy, all right. And I can’t imagine what it’ll feel like performing on that stool tomorrow night.”

  “Different.”

  “Understatement of the century.”

  His grin widened. “But was it awesome or what?”

  “It was awesome.” She gazed up at him. “Maybe it was knowing where we were and maybe it was the disco ball. All I can say is I’ve never had an orgasm like that in my life.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Did I fulfill your fantasy?”

  “And then some.”

  “But I might need to go sleepy-bye for a little while before we start another round.”

  “That’s a good idea. Slide under the covers and get settled. I have to retract the disco ball and stick the dishes in the dishwasher.”

  “Want company?”

  “After how hard I worked to get you up here?”

  “Good point. FYI, I love that disco ball.”

  “I loved it before, but now I really love it. I wish you could have seen how the light moved over your arched body when you came. I’m never going to forget that.” He walked over and leaned down for a brief kiss. “Warm up the bed.”

  “I will.” But after he left she made a quick trip to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Then she curled up under the covers. If she hadn’t asked for the job of playing two nights at the GG…but she had. She’d taken a scary step forward and it had completely changed her life.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bryce wasn’t surprised to find Nicole already asleep when he walked into the apartment. She hadn’t slept much the night before and she’d had the bridal shower today followed by tonight’s performance. She needed the rest.

  Maybe he did, too, but he’d been an insomniac most of his life. When he was a little guy, Ryker used to coax him to sleep by putting drops of lavender on his pillow. He didn’t keep lavender around and after the evening he’d spent with Nicole, he was wide awake.

  His guitar beckoned. Moving as soundlessly as possible, he took it out of the case. On impulse, he picked up his phone, too, before heading downstairs. Hadn’t used the recording app in almost a year but he’d kept it updated. That probably said something.

  Yeah, it said that he’d be a musician his whole life whether he chose to do anything about it or not. His mom had told him his favorite baby toys had been whatever played a tune. At three he’d asked for a toy guitar. By six he’d graduated to a real one but three-quarters size. At ten he’d started playing an adult-sized guitar and making amateur recordings.

  He’d allowed Charity to derail him and that was a crying shame. But Nicole had come along to remind him of who he was and who he’d always be until he turned toes up. Gratitude had always fueled his creativity and now was no different.

  He got himself a draft and set it on the table where he and Nicole had eaten their cobbler. Then he grabbed a chair, turned it sideways, and settled into it, the Martin in his lap. For the first time in a year, he had something to say.

  So much of this song was already written in his head, even the title—Whenever I Waltz with You. It had to convey the magic of dancing barefoot with Nicole under a vintage disco ball. Somehow he had to weave in the beauty of her generous spirit and her dee
ply passionate nature. He’d banked on that when he’d carried her to the stool. She’d responded exactly as he’d hoped.

  Finding a way to express those concepts was a challenge, especially in a tune lasting less than four minutes. Nicole’s impact on him might not fit neatly into one song. He’d likely need two songs, three, four, a dozen.

  But this first one was a biggie. He turned on the app and began testing lyrics and chords. Some songwriters started with the lyrics. Others started with the melody. He liked creating both together, which was why he couldn’t imagine working with a collaborator.

  Unless it was Nicole. She’d come up with a second line to the novelty song damned fast. She’d never mentioned wanting to compose, but considering the lack of support in her early years, she might be afraid to try.

  Writing a song after months of creative idleness proved difficult. He’d heard songwriters complain about getting back in the groove after time off. Some found it so frustrating they rarely took more than a day or two away from the work before diving back in.

  He got it, now. Practicing chords and building his calluses was hard enough, but creating an original song was like going through rehab after an injury--rewarding in the end, but extremely painful during the process.

  In the old days, he’d often fall asleep with his guitar in his lap. He must have pulled the same stunt this time, because while he dozed, one of his brothers tried to steal his guitar.

  Still half-asleep, he grabbed it and held on. “No, you don’t, you bastard.”

  “Why would I want your guitar? It’s a lefty.” Nicole’s amused voice pierced the fog.

  He blinked the sleep away and looked up into her beautiful eyes. “Hey. Sorry about that. I forgot where I was.” He laid the guitar on the table and drew her down to his lap.

  “I thought it was funny.” She wiggled a little as she settled in. “Have people tried to take your guitar away from you while you were sleeping?”

  “Oh, yeah. My brothers would take it and hide it somewhere. I had a habit of falling asleep when I played late at night.”

  “A habit you still have. I’m guessing you never came to bed.”

  “And you would be right on the first guess.” She warmed up his lap and had a predictable effect on his package. But the sunlight streaming through the front windows told him she’d have to go home soon.