Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)

by Raye, Kimberly

  “He’s just tired.” Bernadette peered at Marlon, then poked him with a finger. “He sleeps a lot.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, then Marlon promptly blinked, killing the toilet fantasy. “Okay, so he’s not dead, but I still don’t know about this mommy business—”

  “Bernadette! I’m choosing flowers for the centerpieces and I would like your opinion.”

  “Quick,” Bennie said, yanking Lucky to her feet. “Get out of here and take Marlon to safety.”

  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

  “Grandmother loves to wear dead animals. She has an entire closetful of them. I won’t let her add Marlon to the list.”

  “Okay.” Lucky let Bennie pull her out the door and shove her down the hallway. “But you owe me, big time.”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Tea lessons. All refined ladies drink tea. I found a great book about it in your dad’s library, complete with a video demonstrating appropriate tea behavior.”

  Helen’s footsteps sounded closer and Bennie nodded frantically. “Anything, just take a hike for a little while and if Grandmother asks, you never even saw Marlon.”

  “Don’t I wish,” Lucky said once Bennie had disappeared. “But I guess we’re stuck with each other.” She slid Marlon into her pocket and headed out to the barn to kill some time.

  “Dadblasted hired hands. If you want something done right, you got to do it yourself.”

  She turned to see Ulysses standing in an empty horse stall, a shovel in one hand.

  Uh-oh. She started to back out, but Ulysses turned his angry red eyes in her direction.

  “Hold it right there, girlie. You spyin’ on me?”

  “Uh, no. I was just taking a walk.”

  “Likely story.” He turned back to shovel a pile of manure. “Well, hell’s bells,” he grumbled over his shoulder. “Stop spyin’ and come on over here and give me a hand. This barn needs to be cleaned out from top to bottom.”

  “Should you be doing all of this in your condition?”

  “I’m as fit as a fiddle, missy.”

  “But your eyes...”

  “I worked this ranch my entire life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stop now. Jed and Tyler are overworked as it is. Hands are scarce. Here—” he motioned her toward a water hose “—make yours useful. That concrete aisle needs hosing.”

  “But—”

  “Ain’t afraid of a little work, are you, city gal?”

  “Work, no. Lunatic old men with shovels, yes.”

  He glared at her for a long, silent moment, and Lucky barely resisted the urge to turn and run. She should. He had a shovel and he hated her. He could bop her on the head and bury her and no one would be the wiser.

  Except maybe Bennie. Yeah, the little girl was sure to miss Marlon who’d be six feet under since he was tucked away in Lucky’s pocket. She stiffened and held Ulysses’s stare. Just let the old guy try to bop her. She’d shatter his precious projector all over again. Then he could put it back together himself.

  After what seemed like eternity, he chuckled. Okay, so maybe the old geezer wasn’t so bad and, of course, she could never destroy something she’d put hours into restoring.

  He directed Lucky to hose down the concrete walkway that ran between the stalls, then set about shoveling more manure from the dirt floor of the stall. They worked for the next fifteen minutes in companionable silence and Lucky actually started to enjoy herself. Other than the smell—and what smell!—she rather liked having something to do besides the lady lessons she’d been torturing Bennie and herself with. She sprayed her way toward the end of the aisle, then turned to work her way back up.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Her head jerked up and she saw the unmistakable shadow of Tyler Grant in the barn doorway. She heard Ulysses’s shovel hit the dirt a second before he walked out of the stall and straight into her line of fire. The spray hit him full force and he stumbled backward.

  She let go of the handle and the water dwindled. “Oh, Geez, are you all right—”

  “Help, boy, she’s killing me!”

  What?

  Tyler sent her a murderous look, rushed to Ulysses’s side and helped the man who stumbled and groped along the aisle as if he couldn’t see two inches in front of his face. “Dad, what the devil is going on?”

  “I heard a ruckus and I come out here to find this city gal makin’ a mess out of my barn. I tried to stop her, son, but you saw what happened. Little filly’s got a temper and I couldn’t get within two feet of her.”

  He was lying. The man was lying, and Tyler believed him!

  “Never ever wander out of the house again without somebody with you, Dad.” Tyler helped Ulysses toward the barn door.

  “What’s all the ruckus?” Mabel met them just inside the doorway. “Ulysses? Are you all right?”

  “Thanks to my boy here. You saved me, son. I don’t know what an old man like me would do without you.” Ulysses put on his most pathetic pout for Mabel. “Honey, my backside aches something fierce and I sure am hungry.”

  Tyler handed Ulysses over to Mabel and turned on Lucky, a frown carving his face.

  “You didn’t believe that, did you?” she demanded. “Why, I never heard a bigger bunch of...” Her words dwindled when Ulysses motioned frantically to her from just behind Tyler, and suddenly the situation became crystal clear. An act. A poor helpless act, and a pretty pitiful one. And Tyler believed it.

  “Go on,” Tyler growled at Lucky. “You were saying?”

  “I never heard a bigger... Oh, all right. You caught me.” Sucker, her conscience chided. Okay, so she was. A lizard-sitting sucker who had a heart.

  Ulysses smiled and disappeared with Mabel, leaving Lucky to face Tyler on her own. Showdown at the OK Corral.

  “Are you crazy?” he bellowed. “You could have killed my dad with that damned water hose! I know you don’t like him, but—”

  “Listen, buddy.” She planted her hands on her hips. Suckers had their limits like everybody else. “It was an accident Here I was trying to help out and he walked into my line of fire.” She gripped the handle and aimed the hose at him. “Just like you’re doing right now.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh, wouldn’t I?”

  “Dammit to hell!” he sputtered, arms raised to ward off the sudden spray of water.

  Lucky soaked him good from head to boots before her courage faded and her lust took over. The hose went limp in her hands.

  Water slid down Tyler’s tanned face, the strong column of his throat. His drenched T-shirt molded to the hard muscles of his torso. Geez, he looked good wet. Too good. Too mad. He shoved dripping hair from his face and stalked toward her.

  He reached her in three strides, gripped her upper arms and Lucky clamped her eyes shut. She couldn’t stand the sight of blood, especially her own, and Tyler had murder on his mind.

  He kissed her full on the mouth.

  His lips were hard, insistent, not that they had to be. She softened immediately, her lips parting for the searching heat of his tongue. He devoured her for one fast and furious moment before he broke the contact to stare down at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

  “I’m crazy,” he muttered. Then he released her and stalked out of the barn, leaving Lucky dazed and confused and on fire.

  She took a deep breath, turned the hose on herself and let the water fly.

  OF ALL THE CABDRIVERS in Houston, Tyler had to wind up with Lucky. And she thought she was the unlucky one?

  His tomboyish ugly duckling had turned into a swan. An intelligent, compassionate swan who got along with his daughter, which wasn’t the problem in itself.

  He was the problem. The way his heart did that funny double thump when she smiled at him, and the way he caught himself smiling back when he’d already decided not to, the way he leaned closer when she passed by him, the way his palms itched to reach out, to touch her. Hell, the way he
had touched her, kissed her.

  It was her fault. She was an expert at seducing men. She had to be or he wouldn’t be falling so hard, so damned fast.

  Or getting hard so damned fast, he thought later that evening when Lucky met him in the library for their lesson. Just the sight of her in cutoff blue-jean shorts and a white T-shirt pumped his blood faster. He tore his gaze from her and concentrated on uncorking two wine bottles.

  “What’s this?” She plopped down in the chair while he perched on the edge of the desk. “I thought you just wanted me to have a general knowledge of wines, in case the subject came up. I didn’t know there was going to be an actual quiz.”

  “One week down, but we’ve still got a full seven days to go. I thought if you wowed Helen by choosing a bottle of wine, it would win you a few brownie points. Now,” he said, indicating one of the bottles, “this is a white chardonnay.”

  “Chicken or seafood,” she said with a pleased smile.

  “Not bad, but we need details.” He poured the pale liquid into a glass and held it up to the lamp for a quick study. “Light in color, almost like a sauvignon blanc.” He held the rim to his nose. “Green apples and vanilla.” He took a sip and savored the subtle burst of flavor. “Soft and fragrant...” He smiled at her. “Overall, a very well-balanced wine.” He poured her a glass. “Your turn.”

  She took a tentative sip and went through the spiel.

  “Good. Now, this chardonnay will be served with the salad and soup. After that,” he said, reaching for the next bottle, “It’s on to the main course and this 1991 Beringer Private Reserve cabernet sauvignon.” He recited more tasting notes then handed her a glass. “Try it.”

  Taking a deep breath, she sipped the wine. She didn’t miss a word or a gesture, the recitation ending on a huge hiccup. “Oops, sorry.” Another hiccup. “I guess my system’s not really used to this. I’ll try not to do that tomorrow night.”

  She smiled, and for once the library’s paneled walls didn’t seem so gloomy, or the old movie paraphernalia a painful reminder. Not with Lucky across from him.

  She sat cross-legged in her chair, her bare feet curled beneath her, her face free and clear of makeup, her hair pulled back in a simple hairband. Her eyes were warm chocolate, her cheeks glowing from the wine she’d consumed, and Tyler knew he’d never seen a woman look more beautiful.

  She hiccuped again and took another drink. “This isn’t bad.”

  “It shouldn’t be at sixty dollars a bottle.”

  She choked on her next mouthful. “Sixty dollars?”

  “Don’t look so shocked. A first-growth Château Margeaux or Chateau Latour Bordeaux can go for two hundred dollars.”

  “It is good,” she admitted, taking another sip. She stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I’m trying really hard to picture you in an expensive suit, forking over two hundred dollars for a bottle of wine, but I can’t. You seem more like the beer-drinking, hell-raising type.”

  “I am. I just tried to pretend for a while that I wasn’t.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I like the hell-raising type, though I don’t know much about the beer part. I’ve never tried beer.” She sipped her wine, hiccuped and smiled. “But this stuff is pretty good.”

  It was all he could do to keep from leaning forward and tasting her wine-wet lips. Just a leisurely trail of his tongue across her full bottom lip... Today, he’d been too worked up to take it slow. And he wanted it slow.

  Hell, he wanted it fast, too.

  Slow, fast, any way he could get it with her. Her. The realization hit him like a lightning bolt straight to his groin. As if that wasn’t enough to fry his control, she decided to make matters worse.

  “Why don’t you kiss me?” Before he could answer, she stood and leaned into him. “Never mind. I’ll kiss you.” Her lips were soft and warm and full.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked when she pulled away.

  “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day since the barn, then you didn’t kiss me, so I kissed you and—”

  “I meant stop. Why did you stop?” Before she could answer, he captured her lips again. She tasted of wine and woman and desire and he couldn’t help himself. He moved her around, tipped her back over the desk and followed her down. He pressed into the cradle of her thighs. His tongue tangled with hers in a long breathless kiss that ended on a hiccup.

  “Sorry,” she breathed, “but you’re making my head spin.”

  He grinned. “That’s the wine.”

  “No,” she said in all seriousness. “It’s you.” And the way she stared at him with all that wide-eyed innocence while her fingers traced naughty circles over the bulge in his jeans, it was all he could do not to embarrass himself.

  “Ah, that feels so good,” she said, her eyes closed, her lips curved into a smile.

  “You feel good.” He trailed a fingertip along her cheek, then dipped his head to follow the path with soft kisses. “You taste good, too.”

  “You’ve got great hands, Tyler.” She wiggled underneath him. “Stop that,” she said hoarsely. “No, don’t stop. I love it.”

  Him kissing her cheek? She’d go crazy with a little ear nibbling. He leaned down and ran the tip of his tongue along the delicate shell.

  She moaned, “Ahhhhhhhh,” and caught her bottom lip, her eyes closed, her body arching. “Oooooooooo.”

  He dipped his tongue into her ear and she came off the desk.

  “I can’t take it. Stop... Don’t stop... I can’t breathe.” She gasped and he pulled away to stare at her face. “I said not to stop,” she said, her eyes still closed, her lips curving. “That tickles. Oh, ah, not there...” She giggled and squirmed. “Keep going. Yeah, touch me just like that. Right there...”

  “Lucky, I’m not touching you.”

  “Of course you are. I can feel you. Ooooooo, yes. Yes!”

  “I’m not touching you!”

  Her eyes snapped open and her smile faded. He leaned away from her and they both stared down the length separating them.

  “Ah-ha! There you are, you bad boy!” She sat up and scooped Marlon off the inside of her thigh. “Mommy Myers was worried about you.” She glanced up at Tyler. “I, uh, this is my recent adoptee.”

  “It’s Bennie’s lizard.”

  “She gave him to me. She’s afraid Helen will make shoes out of him.”

  “I feel like making shoes out of him.” He glared at Marlon before letting out a deep breath. “I’m insane. I’m envious of a damned lizard.”

  “Lizard envy,” she said. “Is that anything like—”

  “Close.” He kissed her again, long and hard and desperate. “He got to third base and I’m still stuck in the batting cage.”

  “But you’re up to bat now.” She sat Marlon on a nearby chair and faced Tyler. “And if you swing as good as Marlon,” she grinned, “I’d say you’ll make it to third base.”

  “What about a home run?”

  A dream, Lucky thought the moment the words sang through her head. This had to be a dream because no way in her ordinary, boring life would a tall, dark and dangerous cowboy be telling her he wanted to...

  “I want you, Lucky. Now.”

  Way. She swallowed and tried to keep her heart from jumping right out of her chest. “This isn’t like the last time, where you kiss me then change your mind—”

  He touched two fingertips to her lips. “Now,” he whispered again, kissing her hungrily. He swept her into his arms and strode through the darkened house. When they reached his bedroom, he slid her to her feet.

  “We can’t, not with everyone just down the hall—”

  Another kiss silenced her. “I just need to get something.” He disappeared inside while she shifted nervously in the hallway and did her best to keep from shouting hallelujah! It was really going to happen. Him and her. Together!

  He came up behind her, a blanket in one arm, his shirt pocket stuffed full of foil packets. Condoms.

  “Are we goin
g to use all of those?”

  He grinned. “We’re going to give it one hell of a shot. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and they headed outside. Behind the barn, they mounted a staircase that led to the second floor and a single doorway. Tyler paused to kiss her before he unlocked the door and led Lucky inside.

  “What is this place?”

  “The ranch foreman’s office.” He tossed the blanket on a nearby desk, slammed and locked the door behind them, then turned to the sofa. In seconds he’d folded it out into a bed that took up nearly the entire room.

  “What if he comes back?”

  He reached for her. “I’m the ranch foreman.”

  “Oh.” She smiled up at him and his mouth touched hers. Tyler’s kiss was better this time, deeper, hungrier, more urgent, and much more frightening. But the urgency and fear were nothing compared to the desperate heat swirling through her body. Her nipples throbbed, her legs quivered, her insides ached.

  Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her onto the desk, swept a stack of ledgers, a coffee mug and several pictures onto the floor, then pressed her onto her back. Large, strong hands worked at the buttons of her fly. He swept denim and panties off in one smooth motion, then parted her legs. Settling himself between them, he pulled her full against him.

  She felt his hard length beneath his jeans. He rubbed against her, rough denim brushing sensitive flesh, and the friction made her gasp. He caught the sound with his mouth. His tongue tangled with hers to coax small, eager whimpers from her throat. He nibbled a path down her jaw, the slope of her neck.

  She glanced down just in time to see him push up her T-shirt and free her breasts. A lifetime of insecurity kicked in and she struggled to cover herself. She didn’t want to ruin things this time with an attack of the invisible, flat-chested woman.

  “Don’t,” she said, shoving the shirt down.

  He pushed the fabric back up and stared while Lucky’s heart literally stopped beating. “I wonder,” he murmured after an endless moment, “if they taste as good as they look.”