The Sweet Shoppe: Cowboy Up

by Melissa Schroeder

  She didn’t care if Nick was still a hound dog around women. Or she shouldn’t. But the old feelings of resentment and ... envy ... rose as soon as she saw him talking to Miss Bleached Blonde 2005. Grabbing another piece of the fudge, she thought about the huge ring she’d seen on the woman’s finger. Could be Mrs., she guessed. Nothing at the ranch ever changed. There were always horses to be taken care of, whiny guests to comfort, and Nick was always screwing someone -- usually a married someone.

  She bit into the fudge, trying to will those thoughts away. The smoothness of the chocolate, the sugary sweetness, soothed her. Her muscles relaxed as her skin warmed.

  Strange. She’d always loved fudge, but the quality of this was beyond anything she’d ever tasted. When she’d stopped at the little shop, she hadn’t expected anything like this. But the old woman had smiled knowingly at her and led her to the fudge without Linda even telling her that was what she wanted. Linda had known she’d need something to get her through the next twenty-four hours. Coming back to the ranch brought back memories she’d rather not deal with. Memories that were better left undisturbed. The girl she’d been back then, so stupidly in love with Nicodemus McCabe that she was blinded by it, was a far cry from the woman she was today. She’d been a romantic little twerp, believing in the fairytales her father had spun. And the saddest thing was that there was never any romantic interest on Nick’s part. Nothing. The man probably looked at her as a sister.

  Thinking about him made her shiver. All lean muscle and leather. Even just conjuring up the image of him caused her nipples to harden. He hadn’t changed a bit. She’d seen him two years ago when she had returned for her father’s funeral. The grief and pain of the unexpected death had overwhelmed her, and she hadn’t noticed Nick much. Before that, he seemed to be gone whenever she visited her father.

  She’d known when they were teenagers he’d grow up to be beautiful. Nick had been class president, quarterback, and all-around cheerleader-dater. Linda hated cheerleaders. He’d been the gorgeous one, the one with the personality that drew both males and females to him. She’d been the odd duck out. Raised by a father who didn’t know squat about feminine things, she’d rarely worn makeup or dresses, opting for her ropers and boots. It didn’t allow for a lot of dates, especially when competing with the town girls. But she’d left that behind when she left for UT and never looked back. She might have still been a nerd, but she’d dated. And finally left the shadow of being the almost little sister of Nick McCabe behind her.

  She shivered. Damn him for still being gorgeous. All that golden skin, that long ebony hair. His Scottish ancestors had given him a last name, but, for the most part, his Cherokee heritage dominated his physical characteristics. Tall, lean, with a long, slender nose -- broken twice that she knew of -- and those chiseled cheekbones. She sighed as her body began to heat. Arousal tugged at her belly.

  Sliding her hand between her legs, she pressed against her sex. The last time she’d seen him without a shirt, she’d about expired. As she began to move her hand, she thought of him as he had looked on that day, fresh from working with the horses, his muscled chest not quite as full as it was now, but outstanding just the same. Wet with sweat, his skin had glistened in the afternoon sun. The only thought that had come to her eighteen-year-old mind was: I want. He was older by two years, and in her mind, he had to know everything there was to know about sex. She knew she couldn’t have him -- but, oh, how she wanted him.

  Tension curled through her, tightening her muscles as heat pooled in her groin. Just as she edged closer to her orgasm, there was a knock at the bedroom door.

  “Linda, are you in there?”

  She groaned. Nick. Sexual frustration and embarrassment heated her body. She’d bet her last dollar that she was getting paid back for something she’d done in another life.

  “Linda?”

  She sighed, pulling herself out of the bath and wrapping a towel around her body. “Yeah, I’m in here.”

  “Are you almost ready? I have an early morning, and you’ve been in there a while.” The impatience in his voice had her grinding her teeth. Really, he interrupted some much needed ... rest ... just so he could get back to the big-boobed blonde.

  All the sexual warmth that had filled her body only moments ago disappeared. Irritation had her striding to the door and pulling it open before she could think twice. He was leaning against the wall next to the doorway, looking scruffy, tired, and hot. Really, really hot.

  She shook her head, trying to push that idea away. Nick McCabe was a pain in the butt and as faithful as a tomcat.

  “Listen, Nicodemus. I’ve had a really hard day. I was fired, I have no home, and I am now going to have to deal with you.” She jabbed him in the chest to accent her opinion.

  He looked down at her finger and then up at her. His lips twisted in a rueful smile as his gaze traveled down her body. It was then she realized she wore only a towel, still soaking wet. She closed her eyes in mortification as she noticed several patrons were lingering in the hallway. When she opened them, the first thing she saw was Nick grinning at her.

  “Well, not that I don’t appreciate the view, Ms. Wheeler, but I’ll wait until you get some clothes on.”

  With that, he pushed away from the wall and headed toward the stairs. She stepped back into her room and slammed the door, then leaned against it. She hadn’t been back a day and she had already embarrassed herself, not only in front of Nick, but also in front of his customers. Lord knew the word was probably already spreading about the owner who greeted people at the door of her room, soaking wet, wearing only a towel. And, if memory served, she knew it would be all over town tomorrow.

  West Texas really was hell.

  * * * * *

  Nick shut the office door and headed over to the small fridge in the corner. He pulled out a beer, twisted off the top, and took a long swig, then held the cold beer against his hot forehead. Damn, he’d never seen anything as inviting as Linda Wheeler standing there in nothing but a towel and bubbles.

  He took another long sip. The moment she’d poked him in the chest, he’d gone rock hard. Hell, just seeing her stand there half-naked had him almost there. If he’d been dumb -- and he’d been heading that way since he’d had no blood left in his brain at that point -- he’d have snatched that towel off her. The woman tempted him to throw good sense out the window and take her to bed for a long, slow, hard fuck.

  Jesus, he had to get a grip on his wayward thoughts. Damn woman was a pain in the ass, and a business partner. There was too much history between the two of them. It’d just been so long since he’d had a woman in his bed. As he wandered over to the desk and sat down, he wondered about her comments. No home? Fired? That definitely wasn’t Linda’s normal situation. And what happened to that boyfriend she’d been living with? He knew Chet, their lawyer, had talked to him several times on the phone.

  He sighed, took another drink, and tried to calm his throbbing body. But the moment he finally seemed to grab control, Linda walked through the doorway.

  She didn’t say anything, just sat down and looked at his beer. Then her gaze caught his.

  “Would you like a beer?”

  She shook her head.

  “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  She cleared her throat before she spoke. “I wanted to discuss selling my part of the ranch.”

  His stomach dropped about five feet. She wanted to sell out her part of the ranch? “Why?”

  She licked her lips. “I ... I’ve run into a sort of ... cash-flow problem.”

  “You were fired?”

  She nodded, and her gaze slid away from his. A blush crept up her cheeks. “I was fired for some missing funds.”

  At first, he was stunned, and then he laughed. “Yeah, right, Linda. You almost had me going there.”

  She pursed her lips and shot him a look that told him she wasn’t joking.

  “Linda, you couldn’t steal. You’d chew off your right
hand before you stole from someone.”

  Her expression softened, and she sighed. “Well, at least someone believes me. And they have no proof, but since it’s questionable, they fired me.”

  With her shoulders slumped and a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth, it struck him again that she wasn’t acting like herself. “Aren’t you going to fight it?”

  She shook her head. “The person I think is responsible is -- was -- my supervisor. And there’s no way to prove it.”

  He grunted at that, trying to come to terms with the fact that the woman who never backed down from a fight not only had done just that, but seemed to have lost some of her self-confidence. “And you’re homeless?”

  She lifted one shoulder, almost as if shrugging two shoulders would be too much effort. “That is another story entirely. One I hadn’t planned on discussing and still don’t. Let’s just say I have lousy taste in men.”

  He chuckled, remembering her handful of dates in high school, and she shot him a dirty look. “Okay, so you want to sell the ranch. Problem is, I can’t afford your half.”

  “Then I’ll sell it.”

  Taking another long pull from the bottle, he studied her. Her hair hung in a damp ponytail down her back. Her face was pale, drawn; dark circles shadowed her eyes. “That’s something I don’t want, and if I don’t agree, you can’t sell your share.”

  “You’d do that, knowing that I need the money?” Her voice had deepened with her anger. Her dark green eyes now sparked with fire, and, God help him, his boner was back.

  Counting to ten, he ordered his libido down and ignored the flutter of guilt curling in his gut. She was a big girl, and he wasn’t giving up his livelihood because she couldn’t control her spending. “Listen, you know the will. I don’t have to sell. But I do have an idea.” Stupid idea, but he owed her, and he owed her father for teaching him so much. “How about you help out here? Say, for six months. I should have enough money by then to buy you out.”

  Her eyes widened at his harsh tone, but she didn’t say anything for several seconds. As if gauging her next attempt, she studied him, then said, “You want me to live here at the ranch, work for six months, and then you’ll buy me out?”

  It had been a spur-of-the-moment plan, but he knew he could do it. It’d be tight, but he could scrape the cash together.

  “Yeah.”

  A flash of irritation crossed her face. He watched in awe as she pulled back from it, reining her temper in. It was an amazing feat for Linda. Her temper had been legendary when they were growing up together. Then, as if she had never been upset, her rigid posture relaxed a tad and she opened a little white bag he hadn’t seen her carry in.

  She pulled out a piece of fudge and bit off a piece. “There’s no way for me to change your mind?”

  He watched, his thoughts a jumble as she licked the fudge off her fingertips. Her tongue flitted out over each tip, and then she sucked each one. Every available brain cell went to sleep as most of his blood headed straight for his dick. Not only did he imagine her lips on him, sucking ... licking ... he could imagine the contentment on her face as she sucked him dry. Her gaze never left his as she slid her index finger into her mouth and sucked. He shifted in his seat, the chair squeaking and rough denim brushing against his cock. Biting back a curse and trying his best not to show his arousal, he lifted one eyebrow.

  She smiled and offered him the bag. “I know you have a thing for ... fudge.”

  It hurt, but he laughed. The woman had always had a wicked and sick sense of humor. “Yeah, I do.” He leaned forward, snatched the bag out of her grasp, and then pulled out the last piece of fudge. Milk chocolate, with pecans -- her favorite, and his. Before tossing it into his mouth, he asked, “So, when we were kids, did Rosarita tell you when she was making it so you could get more than me?”

  She laughed, as he’d wanted her to, easing the tension -- at least for him. “Naw. She loved you, thought you could do no wrong.” She shrugged. “I just hung around the kitchen when I knew she was making it.”

  He smiled, remembering their housekeeper, who was more mother to the two of them than employee, and popped the fudge into his mouth. The moment the chocolate hit his tongue, it melted. He groaned, and she laughed again.

  “I know. Isn’t it the most wonderful thing you’ve ever tasted? I got it when I drove through town.”

  As the fudge melted away, the taste of it -- luscious, rich -- gave way to something different. A tingle of heat rushed through him. Just a brush of something, as if fingers had danced across his flesh, sending his pulse racing. Swallowing, he tried to calm his already out-of -control libido, but it was impossible with Linda sitting there.

  “Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep? We’ll talk about this later.”

  She cocked her head to the side and licked her lips. Jesus, she was going to drive him insane. That, or he would pass out from the lack of blood in his brain.

  “You look kind of strange.”

  Strange? If she didn’t leave soon, he was going to show her strange. Like lifting her up off that chair, tearing off her clothes, and jumping her bones. But for some reason, that didn’t sound as strange as it used to.

  He ran his hand over his face, then through his hair. “It’s been a long day. I just need some rest.”

  She sighed, as if completely put out, and rose from her seat. Squaring her shoulders, she looked him straight in the eye. Heat shot through him at her defiant expression. “Okay, but don’t think I’m not talking to my lawyer about this.”

  Nodding, he watched her leave and shut the door behind her. “I’d expect no less, Ms. Wheeler.” He stood and walked over to his fridge, then drew out another beer. He needed something other than the taste of fudge in his mouth and thoughts of Linda naked on his desk.

  After about an hour of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, her body still humming with arousal, Linda decided to take a sleeping pill. As exhausted as she was physically, she couldn’t shut her mind down. If she wasn’t worrying about what Nick was up to, she was worried about her own reaction to him. After downing the pill, she climbed back up on her father’s king-sized bed. After settling, she thought about the new book she’d bought and decided against it. She didn’t have the strength to get back up and rummage through her things to find it.

  Within ten minutes, she was drifting away, her mind shutting down and her eyelids too heavy to hold open.

  Chapter Three

  Nick’s hands brushed against the sides of her breasts. Linda could feel the calluses from hard work, the tenderness of his touch. He stood behind her, his bare chest against her back, his breath hot against her ear. She shivered as he skimmed his fingers over her breasts -- a light, teasing touch -- then circled her nipples. They tightened into hard pebbles. A rush of heat curled into her belly. He’d left his hair unbound. The silky strands brushed against her shoulder.

  “Ahh, so you like that, do you?” The amusement in his voice didn’t hide his arousal. “You always had such pretty little breasts, Linda.”

  She huffed, trying to sound irritated. “Little?”

  He chuckled and pinched each nipple. “I like you that way. But, then, there isn’t much I don’t like about you.”

  He stepped away from her, and she started to turn around.

  “No. Don’t.” His voice deepened, rolling over the words, making her shiver.

  Slipping his fingers down her arms, he captured her hands. He tugged her forward and walked both of them to the wall. After lifting them up, he released her hands. “Now, just put them against the wall. Don’t move.”

  She did as he ordered. He slipped her hair over her shoulders so the ends of it teased her nipples. First his lips, then his tongue, brushed against her shoulder. He inhaled deeply. “Lavender. You smell like a field of it.”

  As he moved back, a wash of cool night air chilled her. The next thing she felt was his lips against her skin at the base of her neck. Then, a little lower. With the softe
st touch, he kissed a path down her spine, his tongue flicking out over her skin. Heat rushed along her nerve endings; warm liquid filled her cunt. She trembled, not with fear but with anticipation.

  His hands molded over her buttocks, squeezing, stroking her skin. Linda tried to enjoy his touch and ignore the fact that he was eye level with what she considered her worst body feature. She dropped her head forward and closed her eyes as she felt his mouth against one of her cheeks.

  He hummed against her skin. “Darlin’, I have to say you have one world-class ass.”

  “Too big.” She meant to say a complete sentence, but at that moment it was impossible. Brain functions had ceased the moment he’d touched her.

  Lost in his lips against her skin, his tongue leaving a wet path with the kisses, she didn’t expect the slap. Shocked, she opened her eyes and stared down at him over her shoulder. He had knelt behind her, but he looked anything but the supplicant.

  “What was that for?”

  He swatted her again and then rubbed his hand over the area.

  “I happen to like your ass. And, if I may say so, I am in a position to judge. No complaints from you.” He waited for her nod, then kissed the sensitive skin he’d just smacked.

  As he continued to kiss, nip, and lick, one hand slid around to her stomach, the other between her legs to her pussy. She was already dripping with arousal. Hell, just thinking about him would wet her panties, but having his hands ... his mouth ... against her skin, she was amazed she hadn’t come already.

  Sliding his finger along her slit, he groaned. “Spread your legs a little.”

  Her thighs quivered, her muscles ready to give out, but she complied, and he slipped a finger into her, his thumb rubbing against her clit.