Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding

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Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding Page 3

by Sasha Summers


  He took her hand and led her toward the door.

  “Your camera,” she reminded him.

  “Right.” There was an adorable splash of red on his cheeks.

  Minutes later, camera in hand, they were sneaking across the great room and down the hall to his room. She kept waiting for panic to set in—or to start second-guessing her decision. But his hand held hers, their fingers threaded, fitting together. This didn’t happen to her. Men didn’t blindside her this way. Or send an electric current through her body. But Ash did.

  Whatever hesitation he might have felt evaporated once the door closed behind her. When his hands cupped her cheeks, she slid her arms around his neck. Lips locked, bodies straining, they made their way across the room to the bed. She kicked her boots off, almost tripping, but he caught her.

  Her hands tugged the red flannel shirt from his pants to slide beneath the thick fabric. His skin was warm and smooth under her fingertips.

  He had her shirt unbuttoned in no time. Once it was open, he sat on the bed and tugged her between his legs. “Damn,” he moaned. His arms slid around her waist as he nuzzled the skin between her breasts. Wet kisses, the slide of his tongue along the edge of the cup...she wanted more. She reached behind her to free the clasp and shrugged out of her shirt and bra.

  His breath powered out of him, one hand reaching up to cradle her full breast. His thumb caressed the peak before his mouth took over. His tongue brushed against the nipple, again and again, causing the throb between her legs to build. Her fingers twined in his hair. She pulled him closer as she arched into him. On and on, he lavished attention on every inch of each breast—driving her out of her mind with want.

  His nose trailed along her side while his hand continued to tease and play with her breasts. The stroke of his tongue tracing her belly button was sweet torment. A soft moan tore free from her throat, causing him to look up at her and smile.

  That smile. Her fingers tugged his hair and she bit her lip. Yes, she was enjoying this. Oh, so much. But then, so was he.

  He unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down her hips. She stood before him in nothing but her pink “It’s Sunday” underwear.

  “It’s Friday,” he said, glancing up at her. “Those have to go.” With a grin, he tugged them down.

  She was laughing when her panties went flying across the room.

  “Better,” he said, his gaze devouring her. But he wasn’t touching her. The longer he stared, the more nervous she became. “You’re beautiful, Renata.” His words were magic. She felt beautiful standing there. When his gaze finally met hers, the want coursing through her veins grew unbearable. She lifted his hands and placed them at her waist, needing his touch as she tilted his head back and bent to kiss him.

  * * *

  He wasn’t sure how they’d ended up here, but he was feeling like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. Tonight was theirs and he was going to savor every minute he had with her. She set him on fire. The feel of her hands sliding over his body. The soft moans and broken sighs. The stroke of her tongue against his. The slide of her silky hair falling over his shoulders. She made him remember he was a man. A living, breathing man with very human wants and needs.

  He stood, the sensation of her naked breasts against his chest kicking up his heart rate. He might want to make this last, but his body wasn’t going to make it much longer. It had been too long.

  His flannel shirt joined hers somewhere on the floor. Boots, jeans, boxers, too. He didn’t give her time to inspect him, though. He bore her back on the bed, groaning at the feel of skin on skin. He kissed her, his lips sealing tight and his tongue delving into the heat of her mouth. He lost himself in her. Her scent, her touch, the brush of her thigh against his hip... He settled between her legs but kept right on kissing her.

  She met him, kiss for kiss. She arched and clung, her hands kneading his back and hips.

  He couldn’t wait, couldn’t stop himself. He ended their kiss to watch her. When he slid deep, her reaction almost pushed him over the edge. Her moan, the way her head fell back and the sheer tightness of her body. He thrust once then stilled, breathing hard and fighting for control.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Bright blue, even in the light of his bedside table. Her gold hair fanned across the white sheets. Her breasts shook with the power of her breathing. Her body cradled him deep, throbbing for him. Everything about her was vital. Beautiful. Healthy. He didn’t want to think about Shanna now. Didn’t want to remember how cancer had taken the pink from her cheeks and laid waste to her body.

  “Ash,” Renata whispered, her hand pressing against his cheek. “Kiss me.”

  His gaze held hers as their lips met, needing her to block out the rest. She smiled against his lips. When he arched into her, sliding deep, her moan dragged him firmly back to the present.

  Tonight was about this. Living now. He was damn well going to take advantage of it.

  Her fingers ground into his hips as he thrust into her again and again. And every time he fought to make sure it wasn’t the last. When she fell apart beneath him, he watched, mesmerized. She turned into the pillow to muffle her cries but he nudged the pillow aside. He wanted to hear her, to know that he’d given her pleasure. It was all he needed to find his release. Pleasure poured over him, drowning him in her. She did this to him. She gave this to him. She made him feel for the first time in so long.

  He collapsed beside her on the bed, the sound of ragged breathing filling his room.

  When he looked at her, her eyes were closed. But there was a smile on her face. He was smiling, too. Eventually, she looked at him, covered her face with her hands and giggled.

  He laughed. What else could he do? She kept surprising him.

  “This is...was...” She spoke through her hands.

  “You said ‘wow’ earlier.” He watched her, curious.

  Her hands slid down to reveal those blue eyes. “That was when you kissed me.”

  He rolled onto his side, propping himself over her on his elbow. “Can’t wait to hear how you describe this then.”

  Her eyes crinkled from the smile hidden behind her hands. “I have no words.”

  He smiled.

  “This is the wildest night of my life.” The crinkles lessened. “I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. Just in case you thought this was a normal Friday night for me.”

  He took her hand in his. “Me neither.”

  “I mean, I don’t even know your last name or anything about you. Except you’re a photographer.” She swallowed. “And you’re an incredible kisser. And...even better at this.” Her smile was back.

  He chuckled. “Well.” It was nice to hear.

  “Did I embarrass you?”

  “No. Flattered.” He squeezed her hand. “I think it’s safe to say you turned my carefully planned trip into something entirely unexpected.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  He nodded, swallowing back the tightness in his throat. He’d almost accepted he’d never feel anything that wasn’t tinged with sadness. But now... Maybe there was hope. Eventually. “A very good thing.” He stared down at her, memorizing her smile. She had the sort of smile that was contagious. A person would be broken not to smile back. He’d thought he was broken, but here he was, grinning like a fool.

  “You’re very tall.”

  “Where did that come from?” he asked.

  “I’m tall. A lot of men would say too tall.” Her eyes sparkled. “It was nice to reach up to kiss you is all.”

  Which seemed like a natural place to kiss her. A soft kiss, light, teasing—and the brush of his nose against hers. “You keep on throwing me curve balls.”

  “I’ve been told I’m a little too...forthright.” She shrugged. “You grow up in a household as crowded and noisy as mine was, you learn to cut to the chase.”

  �
�I appreciate it. People talk too much, for the most part.”

  “Well, I’ve been accused of that, too.” Her smile grew. “Not that there’s been much talking tonight.”

  He grinned.

  “Can you ride a horse?” She pointed at his favorite hat hanging on the headboard. “You have the hat and the boots, but there are plenty of people that come through Stonewall Crossing to play country for a while.”

  He laughed.

  “What?”

  She had no idea how charming she was. Even more so considering she was naked and in his bed. “Nothing,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again.

  He liked the way her hands slid up his chest. Liked the way her fingers gripped his shoulders when his tongue slid between her lips. He liked pretty much everything about her. And loving her body... She had the sort of body a man could spend hours exploring. Thankfully, they still had what promised to be a long and sleepless night ahead of them.

  “I’m glad your truck had a flat tire,” she said between kisses.

  He broke away from her, running his fingers through her long blond hair. “And I’m damn lucky you decided to sit on the porch, not waiting for me, to have your hot chocolate.”

  “You are,” she said, pressing a kiss against his neck. “Damn lucky, I mean.”

  Her lips fastened to his neck and any hopes of a verbal response were gone. Every nerve was on fire for her again. She was right, he was damn lucky.

  Chapter 3

  Ash dismounted from the gray sorrel he’d ridden across the sprawling acres of Boone Ranch and led the horse into the barn.

  “How long has it been since you’ve ridden?” Fisher asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

  “Too long.” The few hours on horseback had reminded him of just how much he loved it. “We sold our family place when I was in high school. After that, with school and all, I didn’t have much opportunity.”

  “Must have been hard.” Fisher’s brow furrowed, the quick shake of his head sympathetic. “But now that’ll change. The college uses horses sometimes, when they go out on calls. You find a horse here you like, we can work something out.”

  One more surprise. This place, these people—the surprises kept coming. After a thorough tour of the school and his new office, Fisher had invited him back to his place for dinner with his family. Fisher’s father had asked him to check a windmill and Ash had been all too happy to ride out with him. This was beautiful country. Wide-open and quiet. Things might not have worked out the way he’d planned but there was a reason.

  There was no denying this was beautiful country, even now that winter had set in. And the town? Genuinely kind folk, full of charm and welcoming. After his last visit, he’d left this place knowing he’d never come back. After his night with Renata and the minefield of confusion he’d had to shut down the morning after, he’d had no choice.

  Yet here I am.

  “You good?” Fisher asked, beating his hat against his jean-clad thigh.

  He nodded, pushing his hat back on his head and smoothing his shirt. “I should clean up before dinner.”

  Fisher grinned. “I have boys. A little more dirt won’t hurt a thing.” As soon as they reached the house, Fisher was greeted by shrieks and a flurry of activity. Ash watched, smiling at the open affection between father and sons. By the time the noise died down, a small boy was hanging off one of Fisher’s arms, another sat on his boot—like the man was their personal plaything.

  And Ash missed his son more than ever. “That’s some greeting.”

  Fisher chuckled. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “Anytime.” He cast a final glance behind them, the winter landscape barren yet gorgeous.

  “Just remember you said that. There’s always something needing extra hands. I’ll warn you now, if my dad hears you say that, he’ll find a way to put you up on the ranch full-time.” He paused. “I’m dead serious,” Fisher said, leading him farther inside. “Let me introduce my two monsters. Zac, say hello.” He spoke to the boy on his boot.

  “Hello,” the boy said, his black hair standing on end.

  “And this one—” Fisher lifted his arm so the other boy was dangling in the air and laughing “—is Nate. Nate, say hello.”

  “Hello,” the boy said. “Who are you?”

  “This is Dr. Carmichael,” Fisher said. “He just moved here to work at the vet hospital with me and Uncle Hunter.”

  “Fixing animals?” Zac asked.

  Ash nodded. “Yep.”

  “Good,” Nate said loudly.

  “Boys.” Fisher’s pregnant wife shook her head. “Daddy’s not a jungle gym. Come on, your bath is ready.”

  “Ash, this is my wife, Kylee.” Fisher dropped an arm around her shoulders. “Kylee, Ash.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ash. To have the Boone brothers agree on something is no small thing so knowing they all wanted to hire you says quite a lot. Welcome to Stonewall Crossing. It’s a great place to call home.”

  “Thank you.” He shook her hand. “And thank you for the dinner invite.”

  “Glad you could make it. I’ll apologize for the chaos now.” She shook her head as the boys made a lap around the leather sofa. “Bath time, boys. Say good-night.”

  “You got this?” Fisher asked her.

  “Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “And then they go to bed.” Her smile said it all.

  Fisher chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple before she corralled the boys down the hall.

  “Cute kids,” Ash said.

  “They keep us running. Literally.” Fisher yawned. “How about a beer?”

  “Sure,” Ash agreed, following him into the living room. “This is some place.”

  “One of the original structures on the property. Always something needing fixing, but it’s home.” He offered him a longneck. “Guess you’re house hunting? Anything in mind?”

  “It’d be nice to have some property.” He chuckled. “Nothing to compare to this, of course.” He’d learned today how significant the Boones were to the region. Not only were they the founding family of Stonewall Crossing and the veterinary hospital, they had one of the largest ranches in the Southwest. They were important folk. And, from what he could tell, truly decent people.

  “I’ll keep my ears open.” Fisher pulled a plate of steaks from the refrigerator. “With so many folk looking to escape the big city, property gets snapped up pretty quick.”

  Which was understandable. There was a sense of traditional values, safety and community to the place that would be a haven for those tired of the tug-and-pull of larger cities. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Grill’s out back,” Fisher said, opening the French doors and walking out onto the massive deck that ran the length of the house. Ash followed, pulling the doors closed behind them. “You were leaning toward working up north last time we talked. What changed your mind?”

  His mother-in-law. Betty hadn’t meant to turn down the job offer he’d received from the other university. She’d simply been trying to get on to Facebook—or so she said. But she’d opened half a dozen windows, downloaded “How to Speak Mandarin” software and, apparently, sent three words to the University dean. “No, thank you.” By the time he’d called them back, the job was taken. When they realized what had happened, Betty had burst into tears and apologized for three hours straight.

  Stonewall Crossing hadn’t been his first choice but, after he’d cooled down enough to understand what had happened, he realized it was the best option. The town, the country, was great. The university, its facilities and staff were, too. Coming back...he’d been scared. It had been near impossible to leave the last time. He’d stood in that airport, staring at the flight-status boards, wondering what the hell he was doing. Because Renata had gotten to him.

  Nope. Now was not the time to be think
ing about her.

  But, funny or not, admitting he’d wound up here due to his mother-in-law’s lack of computer skills might come off as offensive. Instead, he’d opted for a safe explanation. “In the end, it came down to where I saw myself long-term. Where I wanted to put down roots.” He sipped his beer. “And the state-of-the-art equipment at the hospital didn’t hurt, either.”

  Fisher chuckled. “Just wait till you get to use them.” As he put the steaks on the grill, they talked about their work, what Ash could expect, the regular clients, the donors, the deans and this year’s group of fourth-year students.

  “I’m out,” Fisher said, lifting his beer.

  He nodded.

  “I’ll be back with a refill.” He took the bottle and headed inside.

  Ash leaned against the deck railing. On the hill, a buck stood silhouetted against the sky, casting a long shadow over the winter landscape. Damn, he wished he’d brought his camera. This would have made an incredible picture. He wasn’t just being polite when he’d complimented Fisher on the view. No matter what angle, Ash would have something to shoot. And the setting sun, the slow retreat of light from the hills and fields, was breathtaking.

  The back door opened. “Fisher’s running a parent intervention, but I brought your refill.”

  He turned, fully expecting Fisher’s wife.

  But it wasn’t Kylee.

  It was the last person he’d expected to see here.

  Renata?

  His brain short-circuited a little. Sudden pressure, like a kick from a steel-toed boot, slammed into his chest. How was she here? Standing there. Startled.

  Just as he remembered—damn beautiful.

  The beer bottle slipped from her fingers and went crashing to the wooden deck at her feet. It shattered, sending beer all over her boots and jeans. Not that she reacted. She didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at him, the color draining from her cheeks.

 

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