“I offered him Torment. I wouldn’t sell the bull to him. I told you I’d help. He can be used as a stud to breed with virgin cattle. Torment is purebred and he’ll certainly increase yearling weights. I’ve had three offers to take him off my hands.”
“And daddy wanted this deal?”
“Lucas agreed, and at least he’s starting to get back into the game and think about investments to save his ranch.” His pensive blue eyes held hers. “I would have spoken to you first if I thought there would be a problem.”
She tapped her toes on the floor. “Let me grab my boots.” Grabbing her jacket from the hook, she drove her feet into the rubber muck boots. She met him in front of the house and together they walked toward the pasture where the truck and trailer were parked.
“Are we keeping him in the small pasture?” he asked as he pulled his gloves from his back pocket and tugged them on.
“If daddy discussed this with you prior, why isn’t he here now to hep unload the beast? His doctor appointment should have been over an hour ago.”
Wes shrugged. “No clue.”
Sammie was starting to wonder what her dad was up to.
“I don’t know a thing about breeding cattle,” she admitted.
“These days, a lot of cattle breeders are weaving new science into the process to get more calves, but I’m more on the traditional side and believe breeding should happen organically. Like any relationship should.”
She glimpsed a look at his profile as they walked to the truck knowing there was another meaning to his words. Breeding shouldn’t be the path they were taking considering she wanted to sell, although the idea interested her. Or did the idea of being closer to Wes interest her more?
“I’ll back the trailer up for an easy unload.” Wes climbed into the truck and easily backed the trailer up flush with the gate to the pasture. She opened the gate while he prepared to unload the bull. “Ready?”
“Yup.” She waited anxiously to see this bull that would be the father of hopefully many babies.
The bull raced out of the metal confines, his hooves beating heavily on the ramp and then he darted into the pasture, coming to sudden halt as he glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, sizing up the place. He beat the ground with his front hoof, huffing and puffing, sending a cloud of steam up around his head. His head turned left, then right, he snorted and darted across the space.
“I’ll grab him some fresh hay,” Wes said, then headed toward the barn.
Sammie climbed the top rail of the corral, not caring that the rain had started again, but interested in watching Wes drop fresh hay and Torment munching. She didn’t know a lot about livestock, studs and heifers, but she knew a good-looking bull when she saw one. Torment was the Channing Tatum of bulls.
Wes climbed up beside her. “He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Powerful and confident.”
“He must have cost a fortune.”
“A good bit. Your yearlings will be worth triple with him as sire. You needed a good stud here. Sometimes that can turn things around pretty quickly.”
He was close enough that their thighs brushed and she could catch the scent of soap and leather, a lethal combination. Confused if they were still talking about the bull because all she could think was how powerful and confident Wes was, how he exuded poise and maturity. Her body came unglued with conflicting sensations and most of her logic disappeared or was dulled by desire. She wanted to touch him, casually place her hand on his muscular thigh as if it belonged there. To hold his hand, knowing each strong curve and callused knuckle had been earned from arduous work. He’d removed his gloves and his large fingers gripped the rail and she imagined having those hands gripping her thighs and bottom, her hips and arms.
“I’ve never been a city man, but I can’t believe anything quite compares to being here on this land. The beauty of it all. No hustle and bustle. Sweet, fresh air. The views.” His amazing gaze held hers.
“And you, right?”
He popped up an eyebrow under the brim of the hat. “I didn’t say that.”
“You did last night.”
“That was then and this is now.”
“Oh, so now you feel different?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“You have to realize that Chicago has been my home for nine years. I have a life there, a business, an apartment. It’s not easy to give up everything I’ve worked for to come here, a place that has a large amount of risk and challenge.”
“You’re always saying you’re up for a challenge. I remember you being the woman who would have skinned a rattlesnake with her bare hands just to prove that she could.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far considering how much I hate the slimy things, but I did have a flair for keeping you on your toes.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely, you know, being away from family? I couldn’t imagine being away from everyone here. This is my home—my legacy. Brie’s legacy. There’s something real comforting knowing one day I’ll be sitting on that old porch of mine and comforted in the idea that everything around me was created with love and passion, and hopefully I’ll be holding the hand of the one who owns my heart.”
“That’s heavy for you.”
“Even a rough and tough cowboy can have dreams.”
“There are many things I miss here, Wes.” Fearful of what he’d see in her gaze, she kept her eyes steady on the bull who was still munching on the hay. “I’m not sure what my place would be here at Tanner. I’m not suggesting that marriage and children aren’t in my future, but I can’t fit into the mold my daddy wanted for me. I think he still can’t jive with the idea that a woman can run a ranch alone.”
“I believe you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“Even give this place a modern facelift?”
“Like I said…anything you set your mind to.”
“I think my daddy has caught a fire under his bottom and realizes I’m not joking when it comes to this place. Mom helped him make this place what it is—or what it once was before things took a turn. I want to see it that way again, whether owned by a Tanner or someone who takes pride in their land.” Catching his grin, she shrugged. “What?”
“That’s the first time since you’ve been back I’ve heard you give the possibility of not selling a second thought.”
“Don’t put too much into it, cowboy. You’ve brought a bull to a person who has no clue on the ins and outs of breeding. Is it that you’re wanting me to thrive or fail because this is a daunting task.”
“I know someone who knows a lot.” He gently nudged his elbow in her arm.
“Daddy?”
He nodded. “Maybe you two can work together on this project?”
“How have you become so philosophical with age?”
“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Miss Tanner.” He shifted his hat.
“Yeah, and one is why are you loaning us your prized bull? This can’t help your business any.”
“We have ten studs, although Torment here is certainly our best. That’s why I won’t sell him, but loaning him out to a friend is the neighborly thing to do.” He winked.
“We should work out a business agreement, like they do with puppies.”
“Cows don’t have litters, darlin’.”
“But he won’t impregnate just one heifer, right? I’m saying you could take the pick of calf. It’s the least we can do. How many cows could be impregnated?”
“You currently have three studs and that’s not quite the best ratio for breeding, but it’s a start, at least if you’re breeding with virgin heifers. Torment alone can impregnate thirty, probably closer to fifty, for each cow’s cycling period.”
“How long is the gestation period?”
“Around two hundred eighty days, give or take.”
She blinked. “You really know you’re breeding stuff.”
“I’ve been in the busin
ess for a while.”
“There must be something you want in return.”
He was quiet for a long time. “I could still use that cup of coffee you offered.”
He jumped down first. She hauled her legs over the rail, but before she could drop down, he reached for her, his hands on her waist, lifting her down. She sucked in a surprised breath and their gazes met. Once her boots touched ground he didn’t make a move to remove his hands or step back. Their faces were so close, she could see the thin white scar above his brow.
Thunder rolled in the sky and lightning flashed close by just as the sky opened and poured down.
Wes grabbed her hand and together they raced for his truck.
*****
The rain was still coming down hard when he followed Sammie inside the house, both were soaked and their clothing stuck to their skin. He was grateful that she’d offered coffee because he enjoyed spending time with her. Although the attraction between them was obvious, he wouldn’t pressure her into anything, but he also couldn’t deny that he wanted her to stay in Colton. If she offered him another chance, even without marriage, he’d jump at the chance.
He swiped his boots on the spikey ‘welcome’ mat just inside the mud room and watched her remove her jacket and drop it on the peg. As she toed off her rubber boots he took in how tendrils of her hair had come down from the bun and the damp strands hung around her blushed cheeks. Her clothes were splattered with mud where they’d run to keep from getting drenched, what little good that did. She even had a streak of dirt across her cheek and before he pondered his impulsive act, he reached out and smoothed his thumb along the delicate curve. Her chin came up, her eyes wide.
“There. All clean.”
Her bright gaze fell to his lips and her tongue came out to lick her bottom lip. His body responded instantly, making breathing difficult. Something crawled across her expression that made the hair on the back of his neck come up. Attraction? Desire? Or both. He hoped she would lean in and kiss him because sampling her lips had been a fantasy that preoccupied his brain.
“You’re wet,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Your jeans. You’re wet.”
“I guess I am.” Her bottom lip quivered. “And so are you. Why don’t you take your shirt off and I’ll toss it into the dryer? It’s the least I can do with you bringing Torment.”
He peeled off his shirt and handed it over.
Her eyes locked on his chest. He cleared his throat and she brought her chin up and one corner of her mouth played with a smile. “You can step in to the bathroom there and grab a towel while I throw this into the dryer. I think I might have something in there now for myself. I might even have a shirt for you.”
He stepped into the bathroom right off the mud room, grabbed the towel from the rack and used it to dry his hair and torso. When he came out she was now in the kitchen, her jeans were gone and exchanged for a pair of black and white running shorts that showed off her toned legs that seemed to go on for miles and miles.
“I found one of daddy’s white T-shirts. He’s not as…well, broad as you are, but good thing he wears his clothes baggy.” She handed over the shirt and he pulled it on. The heated material at once took the chill out of his bones.
He watched her take down two mugs from the cabinet and pour each full of coffee. “Cream and sugar?”
“I’ll take it black.” He needed a large dose of caffeine if he planned to keep his hands off the beauty. She looked amazing with her hair piled high on her head showing off the sleek line of her neck and her chest exposed in the deep V-neck.
When she handed the cup over, their fingers brushed and she jerked back so fast she spilled a drop of liquid onto her hand. He reached for the dishtowel from the hook and instead of handing it to her, he took the cup from her hand and set it on the counter, lifting her small hand into his. Her gaze was on him, eyes bright and questioning.
“Don’t be afraid of me, sweetheart.”
“Who says I’m afraid?” The tremor in her voice was enough to give her inner turmoil away.
“Your hand is shaking.” He gently dabbed her hand with the cloth.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m afraid too.” He swallowed hard.
“Afraid of what? Me?” There was a telltale squeak to her voice.
“Afraid of how I feel about you. Afraid of how much I want you. We shouldn’t fear the attraction.” He hooked the cloth back in place and leaned against the counter, cocking his brow. “When two people have this draw they should embrace it.”
“Sure, but there’s the slight problem of geography. I live in Chicago and you live here in Colton, Texas.”
“There you are again. Back on that idea that you’re leaving.” He smiled.
She gave a snort. “Do you doubt my intentions?”
“No, I just see the country girl coming out more each day. Country looks good on you, darlin’.”
She worked her bottom lip and he wanted to help her with the plump flesh. “You’re working all your charm every which way possible, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “What I saw in your eyes a few minutes ago told me you were hoping I’d kiss you.”
It was Sammie who laughed this time. “You’re full of yourself, Weston Jericho.”
“Are you telling me I read you wrong? Then I guess if I made a move to kiss you, I would be pushed away.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No.”
“In theory, a woman who doesn’t want a man, won’t feel a thing if he kisses her. But if I kiss you and you feel something, then you can no longer lie to me and pretend you don’t have feelings.”
“That’s ridiculous. I can tell you anything I like and it wouldn’t prove a thing.”
“No, I’ll know if you feel desire. Those beautiful eyes will turn a shade darker and other parts—” he allowed his gaze to drift to her breasts. He could see the outline of her hard nipples under the thin material. “Don’t worry, I’ll know. You are already turned on.”
“Again, this is ridiculous.”
“Why so nervous?’
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not nervous. I’m just saying that kissing me would prove nothing.”
“It will prove that you want me as much as I want you. You know you want this, baby.”
“This is insane.”
“Okay, you’re chicken. I understand.”
“We’re no longer kids, Wes. That worked on me once upon a time, but I’m…”
“Scared.”
“No,” she huffed. “I was going to say older, more mature.”
“And maturity and intimacy no longer go together?”
“Don’t twist my words. I’m being responsible here. Try it sometime.”
He laughed. “Just one kiss.”
“Ha! Keep trying.”
“I will since you’re playing hard to get.”
“Fine! Okay! We’ll do this, on one condition. If I prove that I am in control, you must promise you’ll not mention again about me staying. Deal?”
“Okay. Deal.” He held out his hand and she shook it.
“Alright. One kiss. No tongue.”
“Wait. Hold up.” He shook his head. “We aren’t in elementary school. You can’t place guidelines on how I kiss you.”
“Okay then. Let’s do this.” She upturned her chin, her irises already much darker.
Damn. This was what he’d been waiting for. To touch her. To kiss her. So why wasn’t he jumping in like a mad man? Because this was a kiss with Sammie Tanner, his first love, the woman who’d stolen his heart. The woman who’d come back to town and knocked him for a loop.
He was hungry for her, wanted her more than his next breath, and yet he needed to take things slowly. He hadn’t kissed a woman he cared for in a very long time. Hadn’t felt pressured to make it the best damn kiss ever. Would he let her down? He’d let her down before.
La
st night, as he lay in bed, he knew without a sliver of a doubt that he wanted a future with this woman. This wasn’t just his heart on the line, but also his daughter’s heart too. Weston couldn’t treat this casually because a lot was riding on the idea that she would finally give in to admitting they were still in love.
Placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her and set her on the counter, and now they were at the right level—right where he wanted her. Gently nudging her knees open, he stepped into the vee and wound a tendril of her hair around his finger, bringing it to his nose and inhaling the coconut shampoo smell. “I love your scent.”
“I probably smell like wet cow.” She giggled, but it was nervous, giving him an idea she felt how he did. He loved how her cheeks were the prettiest shade of pink, like the shells he found on the beach. Her lips were moist and plump.
“If you smell like livestock, it’s the best perfume around and it should be bottled.” He laid his hands on her thighs, absorbing her warmth.
“This feels like more than just a kiss,” she whispered.
“Here’s how I see it. This is my one chance to show you that we need to take things a step further. If you have a treasure within reach, you grasp it with both hands. This time, I’m not dropping the ball.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Here she was, in Wes’s arms again. No place she’d rather be.
Yet, she was playing a dangerous game of poker with her emotions. Could she leave him again?
Their bodies were touching, his heat seeped through her clothing into her skin, warming her with a desire that triggered a need that ran deep into her core.
“You looking at me like that turns me inside out.” His husky voice sent tremors through her body.
“Like what?” She smiled.
His fingers smoothed down her cheek, the length of her neck, pausing at her chest, barely touching her. Her blood boiled like lava and her nipples tingled. Her core throbbed and soaked her panties.
“Like you did when I kissed you for the very first time. I was forever hooked. You make me feel alive, like I’m a carefree man again. My needs are clear when I’m with you.” His hot breath skimmed across her cheek. He scooted closer, the bulge behind his zipper rubbed her thighs. A groan passed her lips and his jaw tightened. Every muscle in her body followed and constricted. Nothing existed but the two of them.
Weston's Trouble (Saddles & Second Chances Book 3) Page 14