Hometown Cowboy

by Sara Richardson

  “See the best in every situation. In everyone?”

  Maybe because she’d overdosed on romance her entire life and now she thought only in terms of happily-ever-afters? That didn’t sound very intelligent. “I guess I like to focus on what I have instead of what I think I need. I only see the things I’m grateful for.”

  His face lowered to hers. “Want to know what I’m grateful for?” he murmured, nearly against her lips.

  “What?” she breathed, her heart pounding its way out of her chest.

  “That dress.” The grin that accompanied the words was downright naughty. And close. So close.

  She laughed as his lips nudged hers, and he laughed, too, but only for a second before he pulled her closer, teasing her with a scrap of his extravagant mouth against hers. The heat on their lips thawed the fears and the hesitations that had chilled her heart before. Because she loved kissing him. Loved how his firm lips moved against hers, slow and sensual. Savoring. She loved the feel of his hard chest under her palms, the way his hands held her, the way his stubble scraped her skin.

  “You really know how to plan a date,” she whispered against his neck.

  Carefully he lowered her back to the rock, then hovered over her while he traced her collarbone with his finger. “It’ll only get better,” he promised,

  “Can’t wait,” she whispered, bringing her lips to his again. Losing herself in the rhythm of his kiss and the peaceful breeze and the glowing sunset, she took Darla’s advice.

  She let the secret between them go.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This evening wasn’t supposed to be about sex, but God almighty was it hard to convince his body of that. Especially with Jessa underneath him, making those hot little noises while he kissed the soft warm flesh of her neck. He wanted sex. No. He should rephrase that. He wanted sex with Jessa again. Slow this time. Deliberate. So he could touch every inch of her skin. Taste it with his tongue. So he could revel in the sensation of burying himself inside her again, taking her to that place where her control shattered and she clung to him as she rode out the pleasure he gave her…

  His hands fisted and he pulled back, eased himself onto his side next to her. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman, but he wanted more than her body. Tonight was not about sex. It was about taking her on a date. When he’d picked her up, she’d been distant, and who the hell could blame her? They’d already had a quickie in the kitchen but since then, they’d hardly talked. Had hardly spent any time alone, getting to know each other the way a woman like Jessa would want to. She might say she was fine with a fling, but he knew better. She’d never given herself away to just anyone. Hell, that’s what made her special. He knew she wanted more. And she deserved it, too.

  “Everything okay?” she asked quietly, touching her fingers to her lips. Even in the dusky light, he could see the rosiness of her cheeks, heated and alive, the same way his body felt.

  He gazed down at her, playing with the strands of hair around her face, breathing in her sweet honey scent. “Everything’s more than okay.” Because he had her here, alone. Because right now in this moment, she belonged to him. He couldn’t say what would happen tomorrow, where tonight would lead them, but right now he had everything he wanted. “Are you okay?”

  She smiled up at the stars that were starting to prick the sky with their twinkling light. “Yes, Lance. I am definitely okay.” Her gaze met his, and he had to hold his breath and count backward from ten so he wouldn’t say screw getting to know her and maul her instead. He could do this. Talk to a woman he was interested in. Talk without expecting anything else. They had a lot of things to discuss. He knew a lot about her but he didn’t know her.

  She turned on her side, so that her perfect breasts pressed against his chest. Instead of caressing them the way he’d been fantasizing about, he rested his hand on her hip. “I figured we should talk some. Get to know each other.”

  Jessa busted out laughing.

  “What?” he demanded, though her laughter lured out a grin. She had a great laugh. Happy and buoyant. A laugh that could make even the biggest miser smile. He needed more of that laugh in his life.

  “Sorry,” she managed to say through a lingering giggle. “I’m sorry.” She made a face as though she was struggling to put on a more serious expression. “So what do you want to know about me? Favorite color? Favorite food?” Judging from the glimmer in her eyes she was teasing him.

  And he liked it. “Bra size,” he shot back, though he’d had enough experience to guess she was safely within the C category.

  “Why don’t you take a look?” she said, temptingly.

  He could. He could take the thing off with his teeth right now. But he’d already decided. Next time he made love to Jessa, it wouldn’t be on an uncomfortable rock in the great outdoors. It would be in his king-size bed, where they could spend the entire night exploring each other, where he could take his time figuring out how she liked it best. Where he could send her over the edge as many times as she’d let him and then they could fall asleep with their naked bodies tangled together.

  He eased out a breath. “When’s your birthday?” he asked, jaw tensed with restraint.

  Jessa propped herself up on her elbow and gave him that soft smile that made him want to trace her lips with his tongue. “September. The sixteenth.”

  He nodded as though checking her answer off the list. He tried to think of another stupid question, something insignificant, but the truth was he didn’t care what her favorite color was. He didn’t care what she liked to eat. That would all be learned in time. What fascinated him most about Jessa was her heart. The woman had been hurt. Engaged a couple of times, rumor had it. She’d been cast aside. Abandoned just like him. But she had this resilience he envied. Only one person had rejected him in his whole life and yet in that one moment he’d shut himself off to the very connection he was starting to feel with Jessa. He’d ridden bulls, been bucked around, thrown. He’d broken too many bones to count. But this…this terrified him. The risk seemed so much greater than just his own life. Yet he didn’t want to turn back. He didn’t want to run scared this time. Jessa had managed to do what no other woman could all these years. She’d earned his trust.

  He braved a look into her stunning eyes. “What do you want most in life?” he asked her, wondering if maybe he could offer it to her.

  Her expression sobered. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky again.

  Figuring it might make it easier for her to answer, he did the same.

  Wind rustled the pine needles and made the water quietly lap at the shoreline. He said nothing, though Jessa’s silence tempted him to let her off the hook.

  Finally, she sighed, as though she’d resigned herself to honesty. “Love,” she murmured as though somewhat ashamed. “That’s what I want most in life. To love someone wholly and truly. And to have them love me back.”

  The words struck him with their simplicity. Wasn’t that what most people wanted but were too afraid to admit? He leaned over, kissing her tenderly yet firmly. When he pulled back, his heart pounded. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted. To love someone. Even more than that, to let someone love him. “But maybe I can learn.”

  Jessa turned her body to his again, placing her palm at the curve of his jaw. “You’re far better at it than you think you are,” she whispered. “You love your father.” Was it tears that made her eyes brighter? Or just the deepening darkness? He didn’t know why that filled her with so much emotion, but he loved that in her. Loved how she let herself feel. He stroked her cheek, steering her lips back to his, and this time the kiss felt deeper, more meaningful. It was even harder to pull back, harder to keep his hands from wandering all of the places they wanted to go. Instead, he drew her into a tight embrace, trying to convince himself he was satisfied simply holding her. “Come with us. To Worlds.” The words surprised him as much as they seemed to surprise Jessa. He hadn’t planned on saying them, on inviti
ng her. But he wanted her with him.

  She pushed back and sat up. “What?”

  “Come to Vegas.” He sat up, too, gazing into her eyes to convince her. “We’ll get you your own suite. Dad would love it.”

  Her head tilted to the side. “You want me to come along for your dad?”

  “Yeah.” He bit back a smile. She was much smarter than that, but she apparently wanted to make him say it. “And maybe I want you there for me, too.” He wanted her light. Her laugh. Her smile. Her happiness. It wouldn’t be easy for him to face his critics, the people who were hungrily awaiting his downfall. But something told him he could manage it better if she were with him.

  Jessa’s whole face lit. “Okay,” she said slowly, as though it was sinking in. “Yes. I’d love to go with you.”

  “Okay,” he repeated, already making the arrangements in his head. He’d have his agent set everything up, find her plane reservations, get her the best suite at the hotel. “You’ll have a great time,” he said, kissing her sweet lips again. “I promise.”

  She kissed him back, clinging to him, running her hands down his chest. Before they could travel any lower, he pulled back and cut off the kissing. “Right now, though, I should get you home,” he growled, breaking apart their bodies before he wasn’t able.

  “You sure?” she whispered.

  No. He was not at all sure. But the cold hardness of the rock was enough to remind him. “This isn’t the most comfortable place to make out,” he said.

  “I noticed.” She laughed. “And I really do need to get home,” she agreed, scrambling off the rock and to her feet as though her balance had been compromised.

  He could relate. He steadied her with a hand against her lower back. “We can go on a date in Vegas.” He packed plenty of heat into the suggestive expression. “Then you can spend the night. If you want to.”

  The slightest hesitation flickered across her face but then she smiled. “Sure. It’ll give us something to look forward to.”

  Hell yes, it would. He’d be counting down the minutes.

  * * *

  Doctor examination rooms were all the same. Bland white walls. Lights too bright. Inevitably one cheesy framed picture that someone had likely ordered as part of a special offer per dozen. From the chair where she sat next to Luis, Jessa studied the amateurish painting of an eagle perched on the sturdy branch of an evergreen tree. The creature’s eyes glowered at her from all the way across the room. Not exactly the most comforting image while waiting to hear your fate.

  A clock on the wall ticked off the seconds. Earlier, while she’d killed time in the waiting room, Luis had undergone some tests. Then the nurse had invited her into the exam room while they waited to hear from the doctor. And they’d been waiting ever since.

  Luis sat tall and composed, much better off than she was, evidently. The anticipation of waiting for the doctor was slowly killing her. Her knee pumped with the frantic beat of her heart. What was taking so long? Had they found something terrible? Why hadn’t the doctor come in yet? She watched the clock, tucking her hands under her thighs so she wouldn’t fidget.

  “You okay?” Luis asked, without turning his head to face her.

  “No. I’m not.” She couldn’t lie. He’d see right through her, anyway. “This place is terrible. So depressing. I mean, would it hurt to put some color on the walls? And what’s this?” she demanded, snatching a magazine off the small countertop next to them. “Financial Times? Are you kidding me? Who wants to sit in here and read boring old investment articles?” Indignation rolled off her face in waves, giving release to her misplaced anger. Sometimes anger was easier. Because truth be told, she was downright scared. The what-ifs had been stirring a potion of fear that boiled in her stomach. She wanted to run from here. Far away. Before they found out the worst.

  And God, she couldn’t let herself think about last night. How perfect it had been. How truly wonderful Lance had treated her. Even while she’d withheld the knowledge that his father might be dying of some horrible disease…

  “Everything will be all right, Jess,” Luis said with a quiet confidence.

  That only got her more riled up. “What if it’s not?” Her throat was raw. How could she go through losing another father one year after her own had left her? Yes, that was selfish, but there it was. She loved Luis, and the thought of watching him suffer made her want to double over.

  The old man patted her hand with warm affection. “I’m not worried, honey. Don’t matter what the doc says. I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted. My boys are all home. Together. Don’t matter what’s wrong with me.” He spoke as though he knew something was wrong, as though he’d already accepted it.

  So why couldn’t she?

  “Saw Lance’s truck drive in awful late last night,” Luis mentioned casually. “I reckon you two had a good time on your date?”

  “A great time.” The flashbacks of Lance touching her and kissing her with such tenderness filled her with warmth and longing. It was the best date she’d ever been on…

  “You didn’t tell him about the appointment?” his father asked carefully.

  Her eyes fell shut. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Sorry, Jess. I know that had to be real hard.”

  “It was.” She tried not to glare at him. She loved the man, but she hated this. “I don’t want to lie to him.”

  “I’ll tell him when the time is right. I promise. As soon as—”

  The door swung open, leaving the promise unfinished. Jessa snapped her spine to full attention as the neurologist—a short man with a neatly trimmed rim of graying hair—walked in.

  “Sorry for the wait,” he said briskly as he plunked himself on the rolling stool across from them. “I wanted to take a few extra minutes to go over your test results.” He fumbled through a manila folder and Jessa glimpsed stacks of pictures. MRI scans, charts, diagrams. She turned to look at Luis, her mouth gaping. He must’ve been undergoing tests for months…

  The doctor focused only on Luis, his expression a mask of polite detachment. “Based on all we’ve learned over the past months, and my conversations with your primary physician, I believe we have a diagnosis.”

  Jessa inhaled deeply, trying her hardest to be brave, trying to find strength for Luis. She snuck her hand over to his, holding on tightly, desperate to siphon some of his courage.

  “I believe you’re battling Parkinson’s disease. And it would appear you’ve had it for some time,” the doctor went on in a monotone.

  “That’s what Dr. Potter thought.” Luis’s voice didn’t even waver. He wasn’t surprised. He’d known for months. But Jessa was reeling. In anger, in sadness, in fear of how Lance would handle a blow like this…

  “There’s no way to know how quickly it will progress or exactly how the symptoms will manifest. Parkinson’s is difficult to define. Each patient is different.” The man handed Luis a large envelope. “Here are some resources. Potential treatments. Results from the latest trials. There are definitely methods we can try to slow down the progression. Medications, certain therapies.”

  “Is it fatal?” Jessa choked out, needing to know the prognosis.

  “Not necessarily.” For the first time since he’d come in, the doctor acknowledged her with direct eye contact. “But there are complications. It makes life significantly more challenging due to the mental and mobility implications.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, nodding, trying to swallow past the emotion that snagged her throat. “Okay.”

  “I’d like to set up a meeting in two weeks. To give you time to digest this and read through the literature we’ve provided.” The doctor stood, already on his way to the door. “Then we can formulate the treatment plan you feel is best for you and your situation.”

  He spoke like this was an everyday occurrence, like he hadn’t just upturned Luis’s world with one sentence. Fury climbed up to Jessa’s face. She stood, too. “That’s it? Shouldn’t we start treatment now? Shouldn’t we d
iscuss all of the options now?” Her voice teetered on the brink of a breakdown, but seriously? They shouldn’t waste any time!

  The doctor looked at her patiently. “We find it’s best in these situations to allow patients some time to process everything before we move forward with a treatment plan.”

  Her hands fisted tightly, the anger needing release. “But—”

  “It’s all right, Jess.” Luis rested his hand on her shoulder to quiet her. “Thank you, Dr. Ellis.” While Jessa wanted to wring the aloof doctor’s neck, Luis reached out to shake the man’s hand. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

  After the door closed, Jessa turned away from Luis so he wouldn’t see her tears, but he wouldn’t let her hide. The man took her arms in his hands, turning her to face him. “I’m not afraid. Not stupid enough to think it’ll be easy, but I don’t fear it, either.” He offered her a comforting smile. “I have everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said again. “My boys are home.”

  “So you’ll tell Lance?” she asked, her voice watered down with tears.

  “After the competition,” he promised, pulling her into a reassuring hug. “After the competition, I’ll tell them everything.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hell yes. Lance swung himself up into the driver’s seat of his pickup. He’d just finished kicking Wild Willy’s ass. Clocked his best time yet. As in ever. Right after he’d hung it up for the day, he’d rushed through a quick shower and even slapped on some cologne. He may have told Jessa he’d take her out in Vegas, but he couldn’t wait that long. Besides, they were supposed to leave tomorrow night for Worlds, and he wanted to bring her up to speed on the details. They’d already added her to the plane reservations and the suite had been booked. One of their suites wouldn’t get much use, but it was best to keep up appearances.

  Lance sped down the drive, kicking up a trail of dust behind his wheels. He could’ve called her first, but where was the fun in that? Since he’d dropped her off and kissed her on her doorstep last night, he’d been aching to see her, to feel that soft body of hers against his. It’d taken him ten minutes of sitting in his truck to actually pull away from her house. He would’ve gone in, if she’d invited him, but she hadn’t. After they shared a rather hot kiss that could’ve been considered a warm-up for other stuff, she’d said she had an early morning and should get inside. And he’d had to talk himself down the whole way home.