No Accounting for Cowboys

by Leah Braemel

  “Oooh, feisty. I like that in a woman.” His panty-melting grin reappeared.

  Damn it, focus, Paige. Before you crawl onto his lap. She scooted her chair closer to the monitor and squinted at the screen, pretending to read the columns of figures instead of watching him.

  After a few minutes he shifted, rolling his chair closer. Unsure if it was accidental or intentional, Paige inched her chair further along the cubby until her left leg hit the wall of drawers.

  Two minutes later, he’d drifted right up against her again.

  “Really? What are we, in high school or something?”

  “I’d have flunked if you sat beside me in high school.” He leaned in, catching her mouth with his. She should have pulled away, resisted, instead she fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him closer. Her body tingled as he deepened the kiss, his scent enveloping her, locking itself into her memory. A moan rose up unbidden and she released his shirt, ran her hands over his chest, around his back, feeling the muscles bunch as his hands explored her too.

  A door slammed outside, followed by the happy yap of a dog. They broke apart, and she opened her eyes, finding his already dark eyes even darker, and fastened hungrily on her.

  Breathing as heavy as her, Jake scooted his chair back. “Momma must be home already.”

  Was Cissy’s arrival a good thing or a bad? Because damn she wanted this man in her bed, but she needed to keep a professional distance. So maybe it was a blessing they’d been interrupted. If they hadn’t been, she might have taken him right here in the office.

  He trailed a finger over her lips. “Fair warning, I plan on picking up this conversation later.”

  “Yeah.” She blinked. If things went right, there wouldn’t be a lot of talking in that particular conversation. Damn it, she wasn’t here to fool around. Focus, Paige. “We need to get back to work.”

  The radio crackled to life. “Jake, you around?”

  He reached around her for the radio, taking the opportunity to brush her breast with his arm. “Yeah, Ben. I’m here.”

  “Like that was totally coincidental,” she muttered, earning herself a quick grin.

  “Got a call from Old Lady Flynn,” Ben’s voice crackled. “She said there’s a cow down in the pasture closest to her place. Can you check it out?”

  Jake thumbed the mike. “I’m up at the house with Paige—the accountant. Can’t you get one of the hands to round it up? Joe or Denny or someone?”

  Cissy bustled into the office as Ben responded, “Everyone’s busy and you’re closest.”

  “Like I’m not busy too,” he grumbled, though he didn’t click on the mike so Ben could hear.

  “It’s okay, honey.” His mother patted Jake’s shoulder as if he were ten. “You go do whatever you have to. I’ll sit with Paige.”

  “Thanks, Momma.” He stood, towering over his mother. “Momma can answer your questions better than me anyway.” He started to bend down then straightened, his gaze skating over to where his mother watched, as if he’d wanted to kiss her but thought better of it.

  Instead of one of the mind-blowing kisses they’d shared earlier, Jake brushed his lips over her forehead. “If I don’t see you between now and then, I’ll meet you here about four. Okay?”

  Rather than taking Jake’s seat, Cissy leaned against the desk, her head tilted as she examined Paige. “So. What are we doing?”

  Getting myself in too deep?

  Paige held out the list Jake had been working on and explained the process again.

  Chapter Five

  Paige took the corner onto her street a little faster than normal. If her father had seen her, she’d have been subjected to yet another lecture on either the speed she drove or the dangers of motorcycles. She wove around the cars parked on both sides of the road in front of the fifth house in. While zoned to be a single family dwelling, she swore there were six families living there, each owning at least one car. Most of which were parked on the lawn.

  Beggars can’t be choosers. She might not be in the best neighborhood, but it was affordable, and got her out of her father’s home.

  Her mind ticked off the items on her to-do list: water the plants, pick up the mail, grab some new clothes, and make sure the window in the bathroom was closed—that last one had bugged her all week. Once she’d forgotten to close it and come home to find a possum scrounging for food in her kitchen.

  She slowed as she rounded the final curve. And swore.

  Her father’s Lexus sparkled in her driveway.

  She found her father standing in the front hallway, leafing through a pile of envelopes.

  “What are you doing here, Dad?” And how had he gotten in, considering she hadn’t given him a key.

  He didn’t lift his head to look at her, but continued rifling through her mail. “Making sure my daughter is still alive. Since she’s not seen fit to check in with me all week.”

  “I phoned you—but it went to your voice mail.”

  “You phoned during the day. When you knew I’d be at work. Don’t think I’m not onto your tricks.” He raised his head, though when he fixed those icy blue eyes on her she wished he hadn’t. “Reba told me you’re working for the Gradys. I don’t have to tell you how very disappointed I am, not only that my sister would betray me by taking them on as a client but that you would go live with them.”

  The shadow of a headache that had been threatening all day pounded into a full strength migraine behind her eyes. As she always did when dealing with her father, Paige snuck a peek at her wrist. Though she couldn’t see her tattoo beneath the leather cuff bracelet she wore, she could visualize the “You are the key to your own happiness” inscription. Maybe she should get a tattoo on the other wrist that said “Just breathe.”

  “Dad, they’re a client, and I can keep our personal business separate from work.” Except she wasn’t, was she? “Now if you don’t mind, I have things I need to do.”

  “A good daughter would have quit. You know how I feel about them.”

  “There, she’s all set.” Janice skidded into the hallway. Her eyes brightened when she spotted Paige. “Talk about good timing. I brought you one of my famous beef heart casseroles. I made two, thinking I’d freeze one for us to have later, but your father, bless his heart, doesn’t care for it so I figured I’d bring it over for you. I swear I’ve never met a man who is so picky.”

  “I told you, pumpkin, I’m trying to watch my cholesterol.” Her father hooked his arm in Janice’s, and gazed down at her with a sickening softness in his eyes. “It’s not because it wasn’t good.”

  Oh boy, last time she’d seen him look at a woman like that, they’d come home married two weeks later. That marriage hadn’t lasted a year. At least Janice was more down-to-earth than his second wife had been. Phyllis had redecorated their formerly comfortable home with glass and steel decor, a style that definitely didn’t suit the 1920s craftsman style house; Janice was more likely to fill it with quilts and embroidered sayings, and while they weren’t Paige’s first choice, they’d be more welcoming and homey.

  “I hate to rush you out, but I have a date tonight so I really need to get ready.”

  Her father’s lips thinned. Pushing Janice ahead of him, he walked to the door, tossing, “I expect to see you for dinner on Sunday,” over his shoulder as he passed.

  She closed the door—and locked it—not that it would do any good. He obviously had found the emergency key she’d hidden and would no doubt keep it.

  After she’d watered the plants and sorted the mail, Paige raced into the bedroom and packed with record speed. Her saddle bags filled, and a backpack strapped on, she clamped on her helmet and zoomed back to Bull’s Hollow. Thankful there was no sign of Jake’s truck waiting outside, she hurried up to her bedroom and dumped her stuff on the bed. A quick shower
later, she changed out her belly button ring, and pulled on the outfit she knew would catch his attention.

  “Paige, honey, Jake’s here.” Cissy’s voice announced over the intercom.

  She keyed the button and called, “Be right down,” then ran back to the bathroom to apply the last of her make-up. After blotting her lipstick on a tissue, she grabbed a handful of condoms from the box she’d brought with her.

  “Paige, honey? Jake’s waiting,” Cissy called again.

  It’s just one date. It’s not like I’m making a commitment, or like he is either. He was just as likely to dump her as the other way around.

  The murmur of voices led her to the patio beyond the pool. Jake was leaning against the porch railing, arms crossed. Relief flickered across his face before his gaze swept down her, slowing at the V of her leather shirt, and stopping briefly at the bared midriff with its belly button ring. It slid down her short skirt, then blazed a path over her thighs and down to the trim ankle boots she wore. The return trip was just as slow and thorough and by the time he met her gaze again, his relief had been replaced with pure male heat. If they were alone, she had the feeling she’d have been plastered against the wall, wearing a Jake blanket in ten seconds flat.

  She really wanted to wear a Jake blanket.

  “I think I better go inside and leave you two alone.” Cissy smoothed her hands down her thighs, her lips pressed together in a failed effort at hiding a smile. “Heaven forbid I intrude.” As she passed Jake, she stage-whispered, “Tell her she looks nice, honey. Girls like that.”

  “Good plan, Momma.” Not taking his gaze off her, Jake stepped away from the rail. He trailed his thumb over her bottom lip, the simple gesture stealing her breath. “You look fantastic.”

  She drew in a breath to say “thanks,” inhaling his scent of soap and mint. From the still-damp tendrils clinging to his neck, he’d showered and changed too. A brushed denim shirt and dark khaki Dockers replaced his standard old T-shirt and torn blue jeans. To her disappointment, he’d shaved. She liked a guy with a scruffy beard. “You got all dressed up, I see.”

  “Just for you, darlin’.”

  She might have reminded him that he’d dressed for his performance, but she bit her comment back when he skimmed his knuckles along Paige’s jaw. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

  “Yeah.” As much as she wanted to stay, to take Jake straight into her bedroom and divest him of his clothes, Cissy would be in the same house, even if she was several rooms away.

  As if he’d had the same thought he dropped his hand to take hers. “We should get going.” He hauled her out through the main room where there was no sign of Cissy. Still he called, “Don’t wait up, Momma,” and led her out the front door without waiting for a response.

  After he’d settled her in the passenger seat of his truck and settled himself behind the wheel, he caught her left hand.

  “I’ve been wondering about this ever since I met you.” He turned her wrist over and ran a thumb over her tattoo, reading out the inscription beneath the skeleton key.

  “I learned that real young.” Watching her mother get hauled off to jail wasn’t the first time either. Neither was expecting things to get better when she went to live with her father and his first wife. Or his second. Or his third. Or with her first boyfriend who had heard of her mother’s crimes and figured the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Or her second who thought that because her family had once been successful real estate developers she’d be an easy target to scrounge money from. “Trouble was I kept forgetting it. So I figured I needed a permanent reminder.”

  Shadows clouded his eyes, his expression arrowing into her as if he could see into her soul. Until he frowned. “I’ve told you my secrets. One day you’re going to trust me enough to tell me yours.”

  “I’m not keeping secrets, it’s just...”

  His frown deepened. “Let me guess—a complicated story that isn’t the type to share with a guy you just met? Even though we’ve known each other a week now?”

  “Something like that.” Was that hurt mixed with impatience in his eyes? “And a week’s not that long you know.”

  “I’ve got all night if you want to talk. And I’m a good listener.”

  “Yes, you are.” She patted his cheek. “But you’re singing tonight, remember?”

  “That’s only for a while. I’m talking about after.” His grasp on her hand tightened, along with his jaw. “We have all night. Tonight. Tomorrow. The next day. However long you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Oh damn, he was being so nice, trying to be supportive. Why couldn’t he understand she didn’t want to talk? That the past was the past and there was no use wallowing in it.

  She ran a finger down his shirt buttons until she reached his belt buckle. “I suppose we could talk, but see, I was figuring on getting you naked and riding you to oblivion after.”

  His eyes widened, and a smile slowly crept over his face. “I like the way you think, darlin’.”

  She leaned in, pressing her lips next to his ear and whispered, “Then while we’re on the subject, let’s get this out of the way, because I get the feeling by the end of the night, we’re going to be doing a mattress mambo.”

  He turned into her and attempted to kiss her, but she flattened a hand on his chest and held him off. “First off, we use condoms. Always. Non-negotiable.”

  “Good rule. One I insist on too. And in case you’re wonderin’, I’m STD-free, and I’ve worked hard to keep it that way.”

  She leaned back. “Good. Glad to hear you’re sensible.”

  “Some of those diseases are freaky scary—only an ass wouldn’t try to stay safe.”

  Yeah, well, she’d been hit on by too many asses not to take her life seriously. She settled back in her seat as he started the truck. With the safety talk out of the way, she let her mind drift to what would happen at the end of the night. She already knew Jake was a good kisser. Her gaze drifted to the hand resting on the shifter and she imagined the blunt fingers sliding under her skirt. Heat flared through her chest and spread lower until she squirmed in her seat. As much as she wanted to hear him sing again, she couldn’t wait for the concert to be over and for them to be back in the truck. The way she was feeling right now, they might not make it all the way back to her place before she jumped his bones.

  * * *

  His nervousness about singing so close to home, about Ben walking in, didn’t matter so much this time. Maybe because Paige had him laughing while he drove, telling him about how his mother had brought out the photos and videos of when he was little.

  Why did his mother have to do stuff like that?

  They’d had dinner, but the place had been rocking and so noisy they’d had trouble hearing each other. Then Cam appeared on stage—and since this was the second time they’d appeared at Slick’s they didn’t pull the “let’s convince JT to come up here and sing” routine. He settled into place, matching his rhythm with Drew’s drumming as Cam went through his introduction. Shit, he’d meant to tell Cam to come up with some other last name. Just because he’d gotten lucky last week and no one had posted any videos or pictures didn’t mean he’d have the same luck this week.

  He scanned the crowd and found Paige right where he’d left her. She winked and blew him a kiss, setting his heart racing, and his imagination filling in all sorts of ways to get her naked. And made him miss his cue.

  The other guys covered for him, repeating the bar, and making it sound like it was intentional, but at the end of the first set, Drew ragged on him about not paying attention. Which was rich considering Drew’s pacing had been off the entire set. Luckily Drew hadn’t followed as Jake pushed through the audience to find Paige holding an extra bottle of beer for him. If he’d thought Slick’s was busy before, the crowds were standing room only by the time they
got to their second set.

  During their third and final set, the crowd had thinned, though those who were left were raucous. A few fights broke out, including one right near Paige that nearly had him stopping mid-song, but Slick muscled her way over to the rowdies and sent them packing.

  Once he’d helped the band pack Drew’s drums in the bed of Cam’s truck, he found Paige at the bar talking with Slick, one long leg swinging casually. Her skirt left a mile of thigh visible, taunting him with what could be his very soon. When she’d said she wanted to ride him to oblivion, he’d seriously considered canceling the show, carrying her back upstairs and stripping her naked. Then he’d wondered if it was her way of distracting him from asking questions. If it was, it had worked.

  He tugged one of her pink-tipped strands of hair until she twirled on the barstool, taking his breath away. “You ready to go?”

  “You bet I am.”

  “So where do you want to go? My place or yours?” Before he ended up jumping her bones in the front seat of his truck. Plus he was curious to see where she usually lived. He found himself wanting to know what pictures she had hanging on the walls, if she liked lots of knick knacks or a more sparse design, whether she liked cotton sheets, flannel or that stretchy crap Momma favored.

  “My place.” She walked her fingers across the seat between them and up his thigh. “It’s closer.”

  Her place turned out to be minutes away—a neat ranch bungalow from the sixties. The grass had been cut—had she hired someone to look after her place, or had she run back at some point in the week to mow it herself? “It’s nice.”

  The moment he turned off the ignition, she fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him to her. Her lips pressed against his, attempting to take control of the kiss. He let her for the moment, enjoying the feeling of her body in his arms, the softness of her lips, the heat of her breath against his cheek. Her hands stroked his shirt—she must have unbuttoned it because she slipped them inside and caressed his chest.

  “Do you know,” she murmured beside kisses, “how much I wanted to do this to you all week?”