Tall, Dark and Cowboy

by Joanne Kennedy

  She might not be on top, but she was in charge. She sipped and tasted, stroked and soothed, dipped and licked, then flexed her hips against him. Tugging at the waistband of his jeans, she twisted the button undone and tugged the zipper down, trailing her fingers down the hard length of him.

  ***

  Things were moving along fast—too fast. Chase wanted to take it slow this time, make sure Lacey knew this was about love, not sex.

  “Wait,” he whispered. “Wait.”

  “What, are you scared?” She looked up at him, all glimmering eyes and teasing smile, and waiting got even harder.

  “No. Yes. Maybe,” he said. Then he said something unintelligible, a cross between a moan and a shiver as she stroked him, then moved her finger in a slow, teasing circle. She tugged at his jeans, spreading the fly open and hauling them halfway down his hips before pulling away the elastic band of his boxers to reveal one very, very clear indication of how he felt about her.

  But that wasn’t the feeling he wanted to concentrate on tonight. They’d had sex in the office and in the motel, but he wasn’t sure they’d really made love either time. They’d been too caught up in their mutual physical need to really think about their feelings.

  And she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He’d noticed that since the episode in the truck. Whenever he fixed his eyes on hers, she shied like a scared filly. It was as if she didn’t want to acknowledge who he was; as if she wanted to pretend that it was his body she wanted and not him, his love and his faith and his willing and inevitable surrender.

  “Lacey, wait.” He sat up, pulling her with him. “Wait.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I…”

  He kissed her again, slow and tender. She almost pulled away, but then she relented and moved her tongue and lips in a sweet, sexy mambo while her hands nested in his hair. The feeling was almost too much for him, especially since he was busy with his own hands, stroking that fair, smooth skin in its softest places: the sides of her breasts, the hollow of her shoulder, the curve of her waist. He ran the tips of his fingers down the slope of her hip bone and she moaned, pulling him down on top of her.

  She was fighting him now, fighting his determination to take this slow. It wasn’t much of a contest, and her first salvo won the battle when she pulled at his jeans and wrapped her small hand around his cock. He reared back, closing his eyes and letting out a groan of love and frustration and need.

  “My sentiments exactly,” she said. “Please, Chase, do it now. I need you.”

  He wasn’t sure he could deny her anything, and he damn sure couldn’t say no to that. Floundering his way out of his jeans, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the beautiful willing woman in his bed.

  “Now.” She parted her legs and lifted her hips so that he brushed her with the tip of his cock, and it felt so good, he did it again, and then he was inside her, easing in slow, savoring the warmth and the slick, hot wetness of her. He forgot he was supposed to be going slow and whatever rational thoughts he’d had about this whole thing flew out of his head and vanished into the dark. The world became him, her, and the magic between them. He forgot about their past, the complicated waltz they’d danced all their lives—the one where he stepped forward and she stepped back, where he reached out and she spun away, where Trent Bradford cut in and took her away before he even realized the dance had begun. There was only now, and now was perfect.

  He matched his body to hers, bone for bone, flesh for flesh, filling all her dips and hollows. The two of them together became a whole, something far bigger than they’d ever been apart. When he came, he knew the world he’d constructed so carefully had fallen to bits in the explosion—but the pieces of his life, tossed by the storm of their union, had fallen into a new pattern, an unexpected, unexplored perfection that would define his life from now on.

  No matter what happened—whether she stayed with him or left forever—nothing would ever be the same. This experience would color his whole life, and even if the colors were the faded blues and browns of regret, his life would be richer and deeper for it.

  Holding her close, breathing in her scent, and savoring her soft skin, he fell into the deep, sated sleep of completion.

  Chapter 33

  Chase woke to darkness and watched the windowpanes take on a silvery glow as dawn crept into the day. Lacey lay beside him, her cheeks pink with the night’s exertion, her lips slightly swollen from kisses. She’d flung one hand up onto the pillow to curl in her tangled hair, and her throat bore a faint red, rough spot just below her jaw. Was that from his beard scraping her skin? Had he done that?

  He couldn’t help feeling a little proud of himself, because whatever he’d lost, Trent Bradford had lost more. Chase could imagine a life with Lacey—seeing her like this every morning, seeing her like that every night—but he couldn’t imagine having it and then losing it. Wherever Trent was, part of his punishment must be regret for the life he’d toyed with and squandered.

  And Chase would have to bear the same punishment if he screwed up this day.

  It was Sunday. He couldn’t have planned better if he’d tried. The car lot was closed on Sundays, so he could spend the whole day at home convincing Lacey she ought to stay.

  He rose and slipped quickly into his jeans, then tugged a T-shirt over his head and grabbed his boots. He’d get the chores done while she was sleeping, then run the few errands he had to do in town. Then he’d have the rest of the day to show her the high side of ranch life. He’d tried to show her the day before, but then Captain had acted up and ruined everything.

  Well, not really. If Captain hadn’t tossed Lacey, Chase wouldn’t have seen her climb back on that horse despite the pain, and he would have kept on underestimating her. He wouldn’t have seen how she rose to challenges, adapted to change, and conquered her fears.

  He wouldn’t have seen past her champagne-and-hors-d’oeuvres veneer to the real person underneath.

  He whistled softly while he worked, getting the horses pastured in record time. Tossing their leavings in the wheelbarrow with quick strokes, he headed back to the house before the glowing disc of the sun had burned through the gray shroud of morning mist and risen above the horizon. Lacey wandered into the kitchen just as he breezed in the door, her feet bare on the hardwood floor. Her eyes were still slightly swollen from sleep, and she blinked at him as though she’d forgotten who he was.

  “Chase.” She glanced at the window. “You did all the morning chores, didn’t you? And you didn’t wake me up.”

  “Didn’t need to.” He stepped in close. “But I’ll wake you up now if you want.”

  He’d intended to kiss her awake, but she shrugged him off. Undaunted, he gave the tie on her bathrobe a teasing tug. She scowled, yanking it tighter.

  Well, you really learned about a person when you lived with them. Evidently Lacey was grouchy in the morning. You’d think he’d tried to pull the robe open, but he was just teasing. Although he wouldn’t have minded if it had come undone. Come undone and fallen to the floor in a pool at her feet, revealing…

  “Is there anything left to do?”

  She obviously wasn’t in the mood to reveal anything. The girl was all business. He swallowed his disappointment and turned away, opening the cupboard over the toaster and getting out two boxes of cereal.

  “Nope.” He held up the boxes. “Corn Flakes or Raisin Bran?”

  “Corn Flakes. But I’ll get it.” She moved to the counter and opened one cupboard, then another, finally finding the cereal bowls in the third one she tried.

  “If you ask for help, I’ll tell you where things are,” he said.

  “I’m here to help you. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay.”

  He busied himself getting the milk and sugar while she opened the box. The crispy flakes chimed into the bowl—one of those homey morning sounds that reminded him of his childhood. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine his mother standing at the counter pouring something s
ugary and sweet like Fruit Loops or Captain Crunch.

  “You’re almost out of cereal.” She took the milk from him and hefted it in her hand. “Milk too.”

  “I’ll go into town and pick up some stuff.”

  He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave her—partly because after last night, he wanted to be with her every minute, and partly because he felt the urge to protect her even more keenly than before. That phone caller with his coarse voice, had talked about her in a way that would have made Chase punch the guy in the jaw if he’d been there in person.

  But he didn’t just need cereal and milk; he needed sweet feed and supplements for the horses too. He could make do, but the animals always got what they needed.

  “I wish I could go with you.”

  “Me too.” He glanced up at her face, expecting to share a smile, and realized she didn’t mean she wanted to be with him. She meant she wanted to go to town. To go anywhere, probably. She was still feeling trapped.

  She sat down across from him and stirred her cereal thoughtfully, pressing down the flakes and watching them float up again. Finally she lifted a spoonful to her mouth, and he watched her lick a drop of milk from the underside of the spoon with the tip of her tongue like a kitten lapping cream. She looked at him over the spoon and then flushed, putting it down without eating.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “Yeah.” She looked down at the cereal, playing with it again. The whole meal would be mush before she got around to eating it. Something was bothering her. “I’m sorry too.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “Well, last night…”

  “I’m not sorry about last night.”

  “Me neither. But this morning…”

  She lifted her eyes to his, and they looked troubled. Haunted.

  Sorry.

  “This morning you’re acting like we’re a couple. And we’re not. I’m not ready for a real relationship, Chase.”

  “Okay. That’s fine.”

  She looked a little shocked that he’d acquiesced that easily. Shocked, and maybe a little hurt. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but he wasn’t comfortable talking about relationships. He’d hoped for a good day, a day where they’d share an easy rapport after last night’s intimacy. But evidently Lacey was going to make it complicated, and now he’d hurt her feelings.

  “Lacey, I want what you want. I want you to be happy.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “You seemed pretty happy last night.”

  “I was. And I know it felt like…” She flushed, struggling to go on, and he couldn’t help smiling. He wanted her to say how it felt. He knew, but he wanted to hear it. “It felt like we were good together. Like we fit.”

  There. Now they were getting somewhere.

  “But I need to get my own life together, Chase. I’m not ready for together together. Just because the sex was good…”

  “Lacey, the sex doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

  She looked stunned. “What?”

  “I mean, that was important. It was good, really good, but you know what really meant something to me? It was when we were sitting out there on the ground, looking up at the stars, just the two of us. That was the part where I really felt like we fit. I felt like I was sure of my place in the universe for the first time ever. The rest of it was good, but that…”

  He set down his spoon and leaned forward, willing her to understand. “I used to look up at the sky and wonder how it looked from Tennessee. I used to think that was the one thing that hadn’t changed—that I was looking at the same stars, but I just wasn’t looking at them from quite the right place. But last night, I knew I was right where I belonged.”

  “You do belong here, Chase. Wyoming fits you.”

  “Wyoming’s not where I belong, Lacey. It doesn’t matter where I am.” He reached out and took her hand. “I belong with you. I always knew that.”

  “Chase, don’t,” she said.

  “Don’t what? Don’t tell you how I feel? I thought you girls liked that.” He tried to smile, like he’d been joking, but he had a feeling it came off as a cockeyed, phony grin.

  “Don’t ruin it. I’m stuck here, remember? I have to stay. And if you try to make it into something more…”

  He shoved his chair back, letting the legs screech on the linoleum floor. “It’s not anything more than it’s always been, Lacey. I always felt that way, and I never did a damn thing about it. If you want, I never will. I just thought you ought to know how I feel.” He carried his bowl to the sink so he wouldn’t have to look at her. “Would you rather I lie about it? Pretend that was just a fling?”

  She bit her lip and looked away. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t do flings.” He turned the water on full blast. That way she could pretend she didn’t hear what he was about to say and spare both of them the awkwardness of the aftermath. “I love you. I always have. I always will. You go on and live that life you want, and if you get tired of it or you change your mind, just come on back. I’ll still be here, and I’ll still love you however long it takes.”

  He scrubbed hard at the bowl even though it didn’t need scrubbing, and almost dropped it when he felt her hand steal around his waist. She rested her head against his back and held him close, just for a moment, before she pulled away.

  “I know, Chase. And I might love you too. I think I do. But I can’t just let myself fall.”

  “Okay.” He rested his hands on the counter and stared out the window. “I know. You have to fly. Just fly back here when you’re done, okay? I’ve lived long enough without you.”

  Chapter 34

  Chase was almost glad to climb in the truck and drive away. He wanted to think about what Lacey had said, turn it over in his mind and figure out what it meant—and he couldn’t do that with her in the same room. When she was with him, all he could think about was touching her, kissing her, holding her.

  Taking her clothes off.

  All right, so his love wasn’t always entirely pure. But it was real, and it sounded like she felt the same way.

  So what should he do now? Lacey was going to have to stay at the ranch for a while. Would they spend every night together like they had last night? Now that she’d told him she loved him too, the nights would be even better.

  But she’d also told him she needed to be alone—to be herself, not half of a couple. Did that mean he should let her be?

  He needed advice. He needed to talk to Pam.

  He picked up milk and cereal at the mini-mart, even though it was more expensive there, and rushed through the feed store like the place was on fire. Finally he headed for the café. He was so eager to talk to his sister that he jerked open the door and practically slammed it behind him, making the string of bells that hung on it jangle almost as much as his nerves.

  Normally, Pam would appear in her pink dress and apron the minute a customer walked in, but there was no response. The only people in the place were Cody and some lady Chase had never seen before. The two of them were sharing a booth, and they were so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t even look up at the sound of the bells.

  “Hey.” Chase strode toward the table. “Pam around?”

  Cody about jumped out of his skin, and Chase took a better look at the woman he was sitting with. She had red hair like Pam, but there the resemblance ended. While Pam’s eyes were warm and brown and her whole being exuded friendliness, this woman had cold blue eyes and didn’t even acknowledge his presence. In fact, she gave him a chilling look, tilted her chin up, and turned her head away from him, gazing out the plate glass window as if he was beneath her notice.

  “No. Um, Pam’s out. You want somethin’ to eat?” Cody practically ran toward the kitchen, as if he couldn’t wait to distance himself from the woman he’d been so engrossed in conversation with a moment before. He hit the swinging door with the flat of his hand and reappeared at the pass-through window. “What do you want?”

  He seemed nervous. Real
ly nervous. Shit. Was he having an affair? That would break Pam’s heart. Chase stepped behind the counter.

  “No. I was looking for Pam. You know, your girlfriend.” He spoke loudly and emphasized the last word for the benefit of Cody’s new friend.

  “She’s—she took a break. Had some errands to run. I think she’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Okay.” Chase glanced at the woman again, then back at Cody. “So you playing waiter?”

  “Yeah.” Cody nodded. “Waiter. Waiting tables.”

  “You always sit at the table when you take an order?”

  “No, man.” Cody leaned through the window, resting on his forearms, and lowered his voice. “She’s somebody—somebody who knows me.” He flailed a hand in the air, feigning carelessness. “Nobody important. Just somebody from—before.”

  Before? Nobody had known Cody “before.” Chase had half a mind to sit down and ask the woman a few questions.

  No. You trust him, he reminded himself. Cody was his friend, and he didn’t need to justify himself. Sure, nobody seemed to know much about him, and he had a couple of tattoos that made Chase suspect he’d had a colorful past. One was a snake that wound up his left arm, and the other was a knife dripping blood on his chest. But he’d made Pam happy, and she claimed he’d told her everything she needed to know. Pam was super-protective of her daughter, so Chase had assumed she had reason to trust Cody or she wouldn’t have let him anywhere near Annie.

  But the appearance of this woman and Cody’s obvious nervousness made him wonder.

  “You want to introduce me?” he asked, just to see what Cody would say.

  “No. ” Cody glanced over at the table. The woman was perusing the menu and didn’t seem to be paying attention to them.

  “I didn’t know her very well,” he said. “And frankly, I didn’t really like her.”

  ***

  Pam breezed into the café then, a paper sack of groceries cradled in each arm. The woman left the minute Pam walked in, confirming Chase’s suspicions that there was something going on between her and Cody, who grabbed the groceries and disappeared into the kitchen. Annie was right behind her mother, chattering like usual.