by Stacy Gail
“Glad I have you approval.”
His smile was slow and full of sin. “Oh, you definitely have my approval.”
If he kept smiling at her like that, she was in serious danger of passing out due to lack of oxygen. “Did you talk to Des?”
His smile vanished, only to be replaced by a grimace. “I went over to his place yesterday. Called him on his bullshit and let him know he’s being a first-class dick for not coming to see you like a good brother should.”
Aw. “How’d that go?”
“I probably made our nonexistent relationship worse, but someone had to tell it like it is. Time will tell if I got through to him, but I’m glad I went. I don’t know what his problem is, not coming to see you since you’ve been here, but none of us should put up with it any longer, least of all you.”
She shrugged and stirred a packet of sweetener into her coffee. “It hurt at first, but it’s like you said—he doesn’t remember me. I’m trying not to take it personally.”
“He remembers you held onto him so tight he couldn’t breathe, and that you tried to keep him from being separated from you, so you can rest easy on that. He knows you didn’t give him up without a fight.”
Something wonderful unfurled inside her at that. That was good to hear. “Does he know I’m working here as the ranch’s new temp?”
“He does, and who the hell told you this is a temp gig? Have you seen our benefits package? It’s second to none.”
She pursed her lips. “I might have glanced at it. What kind of benefits are we talking about?”
“Full medical, full dental, full anything else your heart desires. What’s not to love about that?”
The way he was looking at her, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was on the list of anything her heart desired. Then she wondered if she’d lost her mind. “Would you believe me if I said I’m not sure what I wanted?”
“I would.” His gaze never left hers as he nodded slowly. “I can help you with that.”
Her mind boggled at the possibilities. “How could you help me?”
“For starters, set the phones to the answering machine and put the Away From Desk notification on your email. You’re done with office duties for the day.”
“It’s not even two.”
“Perfect time for you to spend the rest of the day out in the fresh air, learning about the real Green Rock Ranch.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re kidnapping me again?”
“Because I am. Ever ridden a horse before?”
Oh, boy. “No, but I’ve always wanted to learn.”
“Then I’ll make sure you get that chance, and that’s a promise. But for today we’re keeping things uncomplicated.” He eyed her critically, taking in her simple yellow top belted at the waist, with another borrowed skirt from Celia—this time a maxi broomstick skirt the color of rust—and her cowgirl boots. “I don’t suppose you have a hat. The sun’s brutal for just about anyone in August, but for a redhead it’s going to be hell on that fair skin of yours.”
“I’ll search through the house to see if I can find anything, and I always have sunscreen with me.”
Luckily she found her choice of cowboy-style hats upstairs in one of the bedrooms. They were all big on her, but when she piled up her hair under the smallest hat she could find—a tan straw hat with a brown leather band—it was an almost perfect fit.
Since Killian had told her he’d be back in a few minutes, Dallas decided to wait outside on the verandah for him. As she did, she quickly rubbed sunscreen into her exposed arms, chest and hands, not wanting to take any chances. She had no idea where they were going or how long they would be outside, but she’d been a redhead in Texas her entire life. That meant sticking to the shadows when she could, and living under layers of sunscreen when she couldn’t.
Less than ten minutes later, she watched as Killian came down the dirt road, riding a horse that looked like a Rorschach test. The pattern was spectacular, reddish brown in some places and white in others—a wild splattering that carried on even through the animal’s mane. The glossy mount tossed its head while Killian pulled up to the front steps, dismounted, and looped the reins loosely over the stair’s railing.
“Um.” She stared first at the horse, then at him. “I thought I was going with you.”
“You are.”
“Are we going in your truck?” It was parked off to the side of the house.
“No.”
Okay. “Is there another horse around here that’s invisible to city slickers like me?”
“You don’t know how to ride, so I’d be an idiot to put you on a mount all by yourself.”
All by yourself. That phrase made the light suddenly go on. “Wait. You can’t possibly think we’re both going to sit on that poor little horsey without squishing it.”
“This poor little horsey is a pinto, otherwise known as an American paint, otherwise known as one of the legendary warhorses of the American West and favored by Native Americans, frontiersmen and buffalo hunters for their strength, courage and endurance. You weigh one hell of a lot less than a buffalo, so Ernesto here will be able to handle the two of us without breaking a sweat.”
“Just so you know, telling a woman she weighs less than a buffalo is not a compliment.” She shifted from one foot to the other, all the while looking at Ernesto dubiously. She wasn’t at all surprised when the horse returned the look in spades. “I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure I’m not dressed for riding.”
“That skirt’s long and loose, and I put a blanket under the saddle so your skin won’t get chafed by Ernesto’s coat. You’ll be fine.”
She doubted it. “Is that a side saddle?”
Killian burst out laughing. “What the hell would I be doing with a damn side saddle, woman? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen one.”
“Um...”
“You love learning new things, right? By the time we’re done, you’ll be ready for the barrel-riding event at the rodeo.”
Again Dallas and Ernesto exchanged glances. “Uh-huh.”
“Come on down to the first step and put your left foot in the stirrup. Now grip your hands here and here on the saddle... There we go.”
Carefully following the instructions and gathering her skirt in a way that made sure she wasn’t flashing the world, Dallas was getting ready to tell Killian that she could always change into a pair of jeans when he put his hands at her waist. Then she was suddenly up and in the saddle, blinking dazedly and not at all sure how she got there.
“See? Easy-peasy.” Grinning as if he were having the time of his life, Killian swung up behind her, leaned over to catch up the reins with one hand, while his free arm curled around her waist. “Here we go. Hang on.”
To what? Dallas wanted to say, but they were already on the move. Much to her shock—or maybe it was horror—they were a lot higher up than she’d thought they’d be, and when the horse was made to go into a trot it seemed like the whole world was bouncing apart.
“Relax.” His mouth was by her ear again, and the brush of his lips didn’t help at all in the relaxation department. “Try to find the rhythm of movement. Let yourself go with it instead of holding yourself so stiffly against it. Ernesto probably thinks he’s got a marble statue perched on his back.”
“So you’re saying don’t be a marble statue?”
He gave her a squeeze. “Don’t be a marble statue.”
“Got it.” She concentrated so hard on that, she completely missed moving out of the well-maintained spaces where the house and working structures were located. It was only when Ernesto slowed down to trudge up a steep grade that she realized they were going into the rolling, untamed hill country. “Where are we headed?”
“We’re going over to see something that hasn’t happened at this ranch in over a hundred years—an honest-to-God round-up.”
Excitement sparked in her veins. “Seriously? I thought round-ups happened all the time on ranches.”
“Not on stud ranches li
ke ours. Currently we’ve got three bulls that are the moneymakers behind our business—Invictus, Magnus and Dominus—but this ranch wasn’t always a stud. The first Brody who settled in Texas was a true cowboy. He built this ranch up from absolutely nothing, and slowly but surely became the king of cattle in this part of the world. But running beef cattle eventually became less lucrative compared to the breeding side of the industry, so from the time of my grandfather to now, we didn’t have huge herds to move from one pasture to the next.”
“But that’s all changed now?”
“Exactly. Earlier this year, we got back into the business of raising purebred Black Angus beef on a commercial scale. Or Ry did,” he added, and his dry tone indicated an eye-roll. “Because apparently we weren’t busy enough. I’d been working like a demon, trying to get a worldwide reputation for being the best Black Angus stud farm in the world, and what does Ry do? Goes off on a fucking tangent and opens up Pure Angus, a range-fed, organically raised line of beef that looks like it’s going to be a money-earner equal to the stud business in less than ten years’ time.”
“That bastard. How could he?”
“My thoughts exactly. Sonofabitch implements this great idea, markets it like a genius to his target audience, then up and gets married just when the real work of building the herd has to be done. Now that Celia’s expecting, he’s going to be even more useless than usual.”
“I heard about that. Congratulations.”
“I heard you were the one who figured it out.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “When Celia tossed her cookies because she smelled bacon and onions, it was pretty much a no-brainer.”
“My little brother, married, crazy in love, with a baby on the way.” He shook his head and steered Ernesto around a clump of prickly pear cactus. “I always thought I’d be the first one to get all that life shit checked off the To-Do list. Then again, up until recently I’d never even given marriage and everything that goes with it a thought, so maybe it’s not much of a surprise I’m not crossing the finish line first.”
She could relate. “I remember when I was little and my family was tearing itself apart, I’d tell myself over and over that one day I’d make my own family, and we’d never fight or scream at each other. The family I was going to make would be indestructible. Then somewhere along the way I woke up to reality.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if people are involved, nothing is indestructible. Things fall apart because people are stupid. They never realize how good they’ve got it until they’ve totally blown it all to hell. Then they boohoo about everything they’ve lost and wonder how it happened. That’s just human nature.”
There was a beat of silence. “So you think Ry and Celia are going to blow it?”
“They might be exempt,” she offered fairly, trying not to think about how completely she was snuggled back against him as Ernesto made one final push to reach the hill’s summit. Killian’s chest was against her back, and though she leaned forward into the climb, there was no way to avoid feeling that deliciously solid wall moving against her, with his arm wrapped securely around her. “I don’t know much about Celia’s life before she married, but she seems to be utterly in love with her hubs. And I do know all about Ry’s life, so he understands better than most just how easy it is to lose it all. I think he’ll be able to see the pitfalls and navigate his way around them.”
“So basically you’re saying if they know how easy it is to lose the ones they love, that should be enough to save them from being stupid.”
“Forewarned is forearmed, as they say.”
“If we’re going by that logic, we should be bulletproof.”
Her breath caught just as they reached the summit. “When you say we, do you mean the two of us individually, or do you mean we, the two of us together? Because I don’t think that anyone could ever say we’re together.”
“Spice, if you’re trying to slap a label on our relationship status, I’d have to say it’s complicated. There.” At last they came to a halt at the top of a live oak-studded hill, and the immediate thing she noticed was that they’d come to a stop under the gnarled, almost horizontally growing limbs of a live oak that had to be at least a century old. A weathered treehouse was cradled in those low, sprawling branches, while higher-reaching branches created a green canopy above them. “Take a look at that. The scale of that herd hasn’t been seen on this land for about a hundred years.”
He pointed over her shoulder, dragging her attention to the vista before her, and she couldn’t help but catch her breath. “Wow. This looks like something out of a movie.”
It was true. From where they sat atop Ernesto, they had a perfect view of the shallow valley below, the late summer breeze rippling through a thick carpet of yellow-green grass. Here and there were men on horseback, while behind them a dark biomass of bodies moved into the valley like a slow-motion tide. The sheer size of the herd was something to see, and though they had to be at least a hundred yards away and several dozen feet up from that moving mass of bodies, she could still hear the lowing of cattle and the thunder of a multitude of hooves.
“We’ve got four herds moving from the outlying pastures into this valley,” Killian said, and she glanced back to find his gaze fixed on the herd below. “For months we’ve been working with our NRCS guy—Natural Resources Conservation Service here in Texas—and he’s been helping us figure out how to section off portions of this entire valley so there won’t be an issue of overgrazing. With the river nearby to bring the heat down, we thought it was best to get the cattle closer to a natural water source now that we’re in the most brutal part of summer. In addition to the river, the shade trees all along its banks will provide plenty of nice, cool shade. The outlying pastures where they were are getting reseeded and prepped with a bahia and native prairie grass mix for the fall and winter. When we say our cattle are range-fed and all-natural, we’ve got the damn proof right here.”
“This is breathtaking.” The raw landscape that went on for miles, the slow-moving flood of glossy black cattle against the yellow-green backdrop of the rolling grassland, and the darker green of the tree-edged river was something she never thought she’d see with her own eyes. “I’ll never be able to see enough of this. This is just so beautiful I want to cry.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured, and his face was close enough for her to feel his breath against her cheek. “You’ve got the heart of a rancher, don’t you, Spice? Dallas Faircloth, cowgirl.”
“Did you say girl?”
He chuckled, and the arm around her gave her a quick squeeze. “Cowwoman sounds about as weird as cowman to my ears.”
“Just making sure you knew you were dealing with a grown-up.”
“Oh, I know.” His tone deepened, and she felt the brush of his mouth against her neck. “When it comes to you, I know I’m dealing with a force to be reckoned with.”
The slow caress of his lips along the line of her neck turned her muscles to mush, and her hat tumbled off as she tilted her head to give him better access. “If you’re trying to get back in my good graces...”
“Mm-hm? Go on.”
“It might be starting to work. Maybe.” But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. If he wanted to be forgiven, the man was going to have to put in the work. “Just so you know, the jury’s still out on that whole seduction thing you mentioned earlier.”
“Seducing the fuck out of you, I believe were my exact words. You can always turn the tables on me.”
“Oh really? How do you suggest I do that?”
“Seduce the fuck out of me when I’m least expecting it.” Absently he swept his own hat off to toss it toward hers on the ground. “I’m a firm believer in equality.”
With her butt snuggled against his crotch, she could attest to the fact that he was definitely firm. And getting firmer. “That’s big of you.”
Great. First her brain snagged on the word fi
rm, and now she was thinking about how big he was.
Why didn’t she just yell penis and get it out of her system?
Another chuckle escaped him. “That’s as good a description as any. What are you wearing under this skirt?”
“I was fresh out of chastity belts this morning,” she said, trying to keep her eyes open. But that was so difficult when his mouth kept caressing her in ways her nervous system thoroughly approved of.
“That’s good to hear. I forgot to pack my bolt cutters.” His hand came up from behind, turning her face his way so his lips could capture hers. The stress that had piled up inside her vanished as if it had never been. It vanished not just because his kiss made the world disappear, but because she’d finally made a decision.
This was happening.
The moment he’d introduced himself as a Brody, she’d slammed up a defensive wall to hide behind. The name Brody was something she knew she shouldn’t trust. It was the very reason why she called him Brody. It was a reminder to herself to never let her guard down around him.
So she didn’t trust him.
But that was okay.
She didn’t have to trust him to have sex with him.
And that was exactly what she’d decided to do.
With her mouth never leaving his, Dallas reached a hand up and back to thread her fingers through his thickly waving hair, seeking to increase the sensual connection. She opened her lips at the first sweep of his tongue, and for a small eternity, she allowed herself to wallow in the lush depths of his kiss.
Damn, he sure knew what to do with his mouth.
Her heart thudded against her ribs, echoing the pulse at the juncture of her thighs where she was achy with need. By degrees, she was losing herself to the delirious pleasure of his kiss when he lifted his head, his mouth hovering a fraction of an inch above hers. She had to consciously stop herself from moaning at the loss, and instead searched his eyes just as intently as he searched hers. Then the hand he’d had around her waist slid across her stomach and slowly downward.
Yes.
“Every kiss is hotter than the last.” As he spoke, his hand continued on its way past her hip and slowly down the line of her thigh. The achy heat between her legs surged, and she had to bite her lip to stop from making a sound. “Makes me wonder what it’s going to be like when we don’t stop at just kissing.”