Falling for the Rebel Cowboy

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Falling for the Rebel Cowboy Page 13

by Allison B. Collins


  Francine had walked into the conference room twenty minutes late. Her dad had glared at her and pointedly looked at his watch. She’d sat through the proceedings, dreading the midmorning break.

  She knew he’d be mad, but she couldn’t very well show up in yesterday’s clothing, could she?

  “Take a break, everyone. Be back in twenty minutes,” he said when the first break of the day came.

  Bats careened in her stomach—he’d called for a longer break than usual. Extra time to lambaste her?

  “Why were you late this morning?” he asked in that teeth-gritted, ticked-off voice she hated.

  “I’m sorry, I just got a late start—”

  “I could forgive the tardiness if you’d done the one thing I asked and gotten me your notes this morning. But you didn’t.”

  The little girl inside her cringed, wanting to slide down the chair and under the table. The big girl inside her made her sit up straight. “I was up very late and overslept, then had to hurry back and get myself and my son ready, drop him off at day care.”

  “Back? Where were you that you had to hurry back?”

  She opened her mouth, but his stop sign of a hand kept her quiet.

  “You were with that boy, weren’t you?”

  Her muscles tensed, and she raised her chin. “He’s not a boy, he’s a man. And it’s none of your business what I do in my personal time.”

  His eyes slitted. “It is my business when what you do in your personal time affects your time at the office. You’ve changed since you met him, Francine, and I don’t like it. He’s not a good influence on you.”

  “How dare you say that to me? I haven’t changed. I’m still dedicated to this job and to the company.”

  “You’ve never spoken to me in that tone before. You didn’t complete the report I asked for, which was important. You know I value your insight about people.” His face lost that hard edge, and he suddenly looked old. “I worry about you, Francine. I always have. I want to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

  She swiveled her chair around and scooted close enough to rest her hands on his forearm. “Dad, you’re sweet to want to protect me.”

  “Of course I do. I’m your father.”

  She smiled. “And I love you for it. But you can’t keep me wrapped in silk forever.”

  “I still don’t think he’s good enough for you,” he grumbled.

  “You don’t think anyone would be,” she teased, trying to lighten his mood.

  He’d always looked youthful for his age, until today. She wanted to nag him again about taking his medicine, but all too soon the door opened and her coworkers filed in to their seats. It would have to wait until the lunch break. She didn’t want him to end up in the hospital again, and this merger had really taken a toll on him.

  “I’ll send you the notes I have now and finish it later, okay?” she whispered.

  He nodded, then opened his portfolio again.

  Had she really changed since they’d arrived at the ranch? She didn’t feel any different. Other than being happy for the first time in a long time. That was a good change. And Johnny had come out of his shell with Wyatt and his family. That was definitely a good thing.

  Would he go back into his shell when they returned to New York?

  She hoped not. For now, she had to get her mind focused on the meeting.

  But doubt niggled at her, and the bats in her stomach were back.

  * * *

  WYATT’S PLANS FOR a quiet dinner with Frankie and Johnny were shot to hell when his dad called and said he wanted a family chuck wagon dinner that night. They hadn’t done one since everyone was back home again, and it was high time.

  Normally they didn’t want outsiders to join them as it was true family time, but his dad allowed him to invite Frankie and Johnny.

  Wyatt had gotten his chores done early that day and spent the rest of it cooking various dishes and some pies. He’d picked up Frankie and Johnny early that evening and drove his loaded truck out to the dinner spot, where Nash and his family, along with Kade and Toby, had already started setting up.

  Frankie helped him set up a couple of tables while Johnny played with Maddy and Toby.

  He watched the kids play. Johnny had come so far from the solemn little boy he’d been when they had arrived almost a week and a half ago. And it looked like he was having the time of his life, fitting right in with the other kids.

  “Johnny loves it here,” Frankie said, sliding her arm around Wyatt’s waist. “He’s going to hate it when we have to leave.”

  Wyatt turned and pulled her other arm around his waist, sliding his own around her. “What about Frankie Wentworth, cow wrangler? Will she hate to leave?”

  She looked up into his eyes. “Yes,” she said, no hesitation. Then she stepped back, and he felt the loss like an ache in his chest. She unbuttoned her denim jacket, spread it open enough he could see a white T-shirt with the words Country Girl at Heart emblazoned on it with sequins.

  He busted out a laugh. “Where did you get that?”

  “Like it?” She did a slow turn with an extra swing of her hips. He hadn’t noticed before, but she had new jeans that fit her just right, outlining her sweetheart of an ass and her long, long legs. “I did some online shopping, had these items expressed here.”

  He wolf whistled at her, and she giggled. “You’re settling into this Montana life, aren’t you?”

  “It’s beautiful out here. And the people are the best.” She glanced around, then gave him a quick kiss when no one was looking.

  Another pickup pulled up, backed in so the tailgate faced the inner circle. Hunter got out, and his boys spilled out of the front and back seats. Cody, Tripp and Eli helped unload a few things, then raced off to play with Johnny and their cousins.

  “Dude,” Hunter said and punched Wyatt’s arm. “Frankie,” he said and tipped his hat.

  “Does everyone call me that now?” she asked.

  “You’re different than you were when y’all got here,” Hunter said. “It’s a good change.”

  Frankie looked startled, then grinned. “I think so, too.” She stuck a booted foot out. “Think these would work in a Madison Avenue office?”

  Hunter laughed, but Wyatt only half grinned. Yet another reminder that she’d be leaving before long. A day he was dreading with every passing moment. But honestly, why would she want to stay here? Sure, it was fine for a couple of weeks’ vacation. But she was a city girl, regardless of what her shirt said.

  Hunter set bags of chips on one of the tables, then wandered over to the dessert table. “All right, pie!” He turned and gave two thumbs-up to Wyatt.

  Wyatt grinned. Hunter had always been a sucker for pie.

  Luke arrived and parked, and right after that their dad and Bunny followed, hauling the family chuck wagon, a converted travel trailer. They used the official chuck wagon for guest dinner parties out here, but for just the family, it was easier to use the conversion.

  Frankie looked around at all the pickup trucks parked in a circle. “Is this like circling the proverbial wagon train?”

  “Yep,” Hunter said, passing by. “You never know when the enemy might approach.”

  She looked at Wyatt, alarm on her face.

  “He’s kidding. With all the noise and the fire, no animal is going to come close,” Wyatt said.

  “Let’s get this party started,” Hunter called, and hooked up his iPhone to a speaker on one of the tables.

  A country song boomed out, making the evening come alive.

  Wyatt looked around at his family, laughing, talking, the kids dancing. Frankie sat on the lowered tailgate of his truck, drinking a beer, talking to Kelsey. Their heads together, Kelsey said something, and they both started laughing.

  Frankie swung her legs in time to the music, and as he watc
hed her having a good time, he began to hope they could have a future. He had a long way to go to stabilize his life a bit more. He needed to get his GED and secure that foreman job, but if he tried hard, worked at it, maybe someday he could prove himself to her. Be worthy of her.

  Bunny called them to the fire for dinner. She really was good for Pop, a good addition to a family that had been all male since their mother died so long ago.

  “Penny?” Hunter asked.

  “Huh?”

  “For your thoughts.” He smiled. “What has you thinking so hard?”

  “Just happy to be here.”

  “That’s a change,” Hunter said. “But a good one. Good you came home. It was about time.”

  Wyatt looked at his youngest brother.

  Hunter shrugged. “So, I missed you.”

  Wyatt slung his arm around Hunter’s neck, gave him a noogie. “Yeah, I guess I missed you.”

  “Dude, watch the hair.” Hunter ran his fingers through his hair.

  “You’re such a prima donna.” Wyatt grinned. He really had missed his brothers, even if they didn’t always get along.

  Nash had thrown himself into sports after their mom died, then dropped out of college and left to join the army. But he’d come home, like Wyatt had.

  Kade, the good son, good dad—good in most ways, if only he could get over his ex-wife’s betrayal.

  Luke, who’d always brought home stray animals, even from a young age.

  And Hunter. Always skating through life on his wit. Married his college girlfriend when they found out she was pregnant—with triplets, no less. Their marriage hadn’t lasted long, but he adored his boys and shared custody amicably with his ex.

  “Wyatt, you coming to eat?” Bunny called.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shook off his thoughts, got in line for food.

  * * *

  FRANCINE SAT BACK in her chair at the campfire. “I don’t think I can eat again for a week. Something about eating outside makes everything taste better. Thank you for inviting Johnny and me, Mr. Sullivan.”

  He nodded. “Call me Angus. Glad to have you with us tonight. I hope your meetings are going well.”

  “Going good, thanks.” She didn’t want to think about what would happen when the company retreat was complete. They’d be leaving.

  She glanced at Wyatt sitting next to her, their shoulders brushing occasionally. Johnny wasn’t the only one who would hate leaving. But she had a job to do, a merger to complete and details to finalize before the final board meeting on Monday that would make the merger official. But until then, she’d take a leaf out of Scarlett O’Hara’s book and think about it tomorrow.

  Bunny cleared her throat. “I’ve scored quite a coup. I booked a retreat for a group of romance authors after the holidays. They’ll be with us for at least a week.” She giggled. “And one of them is my very favorite author of all time. I’m so excited to be meeting her. She’s asked to pick your brains about ranching, as she’s starting a new series. I hope you’ll all cooperate with her.”

  Francine glanced at Angus, who was smiling at his wife. She caught an odd expression on Kade’s face. It looked like he wasn’t happy about that particular group coming in.

  Maddy popped up from her chair. “Do you like my new shickers? Daddy got them for me.” She displayed one hot pink–cowboy-booted foot for Frankie, then the other, and raced off to grab a cupcake.

  “Shickers?” Francine asked.

  “She means shit kickers. Overheard Hunter talking about needing new ones recently,” Kelsey said. “Thanks for that, by the way.” She bared her teeth at Hunter.

  “Hey, I can’t help it if she’s got bionic hearing.” Hunter got up and went to his truck, then came back almost immediately with a worn guitar case.

  “Hey, that’s mine,” Wyatt said. “Did you break into my cabin?”

  “I know where the spare key is.” He handed the case to Wyatt. “Play.”

  “Not in the mood.”

  “Hey, Maddy,” Hunter called.

  The little girl came running up to Wyatt. She clasped her hands together. “Please play, Uncle Wyatt.” She tilted her head and put a pleading look on her face.

  Wyatt’s mouth softened into a smile for his niece as he reached for the guitar.

  “You play dirty, bro,” Wyatt said to Hunter.

  Hunter grinned. “You better believe it.” He swung Maddy up onto his lap. “She’s not the only one who likes your voice. Cows and dogs like it, too.”

  Everyone laughed, even Wyatt, she was glad to see.

  He set the guitar on his lap, and she could tell it was well used, obviously well loved, from the way he stroked it unconsciously.

  She could see it keeping him company on those long, lonely nights he’d spent away from home.

  He strummed several chords, then settled into a song. He closed his eyes as if to block them all out.

  Up to now, she’d only heard him sing a cappella to a cow and then to his dog. But as one song blended into the next, her admiration for him grew. It was a shame he didn’t want to sing in public, but she understood. This was something just for Wyatt and his family.

  She looked around at his family, and everyone watched him as he sang. Even the kids had settled down around the fire.

  The song he sang now was all about finding love when least expected. She saw Angus put his arm around Bunny, hold her close. Kelsey’s head rested on Nash’s shoulder, one hand on her pregnant belly.

  Wyatt’s music meant something to these people, the people closest to him.

  His voice affected her, reaching deep into her soul to touch something she hadn’t known she was missing, needing, just two short weeks ago.

  Love.

  Love for Wyatt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The day after the chuck wagon dinner, Francine walked into the barn someone had pointed out to her. “Wyatt?” she called.

  “Frankie?” Wyatt’s voice echoed down to her.

  She looked up, spotted him peering over the edge of the hayloft at her.

  “Hey. What are you doing here? Is Johnny okay? Something wrong?”

  He hurried over to the ladder and climbed down, fast. As soon as he touched the floor, he turned around and almost slammed in to her. “What is it?”

  She stepped forward, started to hug him, but he held her arms, wouldn’t let her come close. “I’m covered in dirt and hay. Been working up in the hayloft. I don’t want to get your pretty clothes filthy.”

  “I don’t care. They’ll clean,” she said and snuggled up to him.

  “So what are you doing here?” he asked.

  She leaned back so he could see her face. “It’s our lunch break.” She smiled. “I’m playing hooky.”

  “And you came to see me?”

  She nodded. “I missed you. And...” She leaned closer, touched her lips lightly to his. “I didn’t get a good-night kiss last night when you brought us back to the lodge.”

  He stared at her, each beat of her heart ramping up faster. She’d regretted not being able to properly kiss him good-night. Then she’d had some very erotic dreams about him and couldn’t stand not being with him any longer.

  “Then let me fix that,” he said. Sliding his arms around her back, he molded her body to his so almost every bit of her was flush against him. He kissed her, once, twice, then devoured her mouth.

  She met his tongue, each touch sending sparks along her spine. God, he could kiss. She could do this for days and days.

  He ran his lips along her jawline to her ear, nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “I missed you last night when I went home,” he rasped, his dark tone sending tingles in all the right places.

  “I missed you, too.”

  “I wanted more than anything to have you in my bed,” he whispered.


  “Yeah? What for?” she asked, clutching his T-shirt, grateful to have something to hang on to when her legs grew weak.

  “To explore your body, every inch of it, with my lips—” He paused, kissed her neck, her forehead, her nose. “And fingertips.” He slid his hand around to cup her breast, ran his thumb over her nipple, lightly pinched it. “And—” he whispered in her ear.

  She gasped, her knees really buckling this time at his words and the desperate need to have him do what he’d just said.

  He kissed her again, and she tried to tell him what she wanted, how much she wanted him, with her own kisses. She lifted her leg, curling her foot around his calf, opening herself up to press against his hardness.

  “Frankie, Frankie. You drive me crazy,” he said, tearing his mouth from hers.

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” she whispered.

  “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Does the door lock?”

  He raised his head, stared at her, then swept her up into his arms. He walked toward the back of the barn to a small office, and set her down just inside the door, then closed and locked it.

  “You sure about this?” he asked, staring at her with those hazel eyes she loved.

  She slid his T-shirt up enough to touch his heated skin, skimming her fingers over his solid abs, up his pecs, feeling the muscles that showed how hard he worked, day in and day out. Good honest work, every single day. “Touch me, Wyatt.”

  He slid her skirt up, his fingers blazing a trail up her thigh. It made her very glad she’d worn the longer flowing one today, and not slacks. He skimmed his fingertips over her panties.

  “You’re so hot,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “For me?”

  “Only you.”

  He groaned, his fingers clenching on her hip. It made her feel wanton, something she’d never felt before. And she wanted to explore that feeling. With him.

  To think she made him feel that way? She finally understood what it was to be a sensuous woman.

  She trailed her hand down his chest, down, down, down, to the front of his jeans. Pressed her hand against his hardness, felt him throb in her palm.

  And swore she felt an answering throb deep inside her.

 

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