“Let’s not talk.”
“You don’t have to say or do a thing. My gift. I’m pretty good at pleasuring a woman. Like using more than a finger though. If we had a bed, I’d spread you out, use my tongue, my teeth. There wouldn’t be a part of you I wouldn’t tease.”
“Jesus, stop talkin’.” Too late. The images were branded in her mind. Her naked, his brawny body bent over her sex.
One last, swirling scrape and she jerked, a tiny whimper leaking between her bitten lips. He held her up when her knees weakened, leaned her head against his chest, and slowly withdrew his hand.
When he cupped her chin and raised her face, she didn’t try to argue with him again. They kissed—a carnal mating which left them both dragging air into starved lungs as he straightened. He waited while she set her clothing to rights, then opened the door of her truck and handed her up into the cab. “Sure you’re okay to drive?”
Dazed, she nodded. “I’m fine.” She felt like she should say something else, but thanks didn’t feel appropriate.
He didn’t seem to need an acknowledgement of his gift, tipping the brim of his hat and turning away—but not before she saw his grin.
He looked very pleased with himself, but not quite smug.
Her own lips were softly curved as she pulled away from the parking lot and onto the lonely highway.
Chapter Two
Lone put the used pickup he’d bought the day before into park and cut off the engine. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for the air inside the cab to heat to a boil in the summer sun. He glanced at his face in the rearview mirror, combed his fingers through his shaggy hair and put on his hat, then opened the cab door and stepped out onto the caliche drive beside the one-story log house.
The foreman had told him be there at noon sharp. That he and the owner of the ranch would interview Lonny. But after Lonny had listed his previous work experience on the phone the evening before, the foreman’s only question had been, “Could I count on you to be here through winter?”
Lonny was pretty sure he had the job. It didn’t pay squat, but he liked the town and wanted to stay a while. Wasn’t much to it, just a hatch mark of two-lane streets, but the folks he’d met, other than the bartender, had been friendly. He figured the man behind the bar might have been jealous of the woman he’d danced with, because the man’s surly stare had followed them the entire time.
The woman was another reason he’d decided to stay. He couldn’t exactly say why. She was attractive enough, although she’d been dressed plainly in jeans and an old plaid work shirt and hadn’t worn a hint of makeup. However, she’d felt just right when he’d held her close, smelled of horse, soap and strawberries—likely the shampoo she’d used on her silky brown hair, because when he brought her close, the pleasing aroma had been stronger.
All those things had been nice, even her lean, muscular body, but it had been her eyes—large, brown and so expressive—that had drawn him in. She’d wanted him, but had been wary. Of hurt, perhaps? Or disappointment? He wanted to know. Perhaps once the mystery was solved, she wouldn’t linger in his mind.
She was older than he was by just a few years, but that didn’t really bother him. Honey had been older, but so sweet and sexy he wouldn’t have minded calling her his. However, she’d needed True as much as his brother needed her.
He was happy for them. But there was still an ache inside him for what could have been, which haunted him when he was alone at night. The thought of having someone share his bed, his thoughts, his dreams, had never been something he’d yearned for until he’d seen how it worked with Honey and True.
Now he wanted that for himself, but he hadn’t found it in all the usual places. He certainly hadn’t found it on the circuit with a never-ending string of buckle bunnies or any of the women pursuing their own rodeo dreams.
In his heart, he knew it was time to get on with his life. Find the woman he was meant to love. If it meant following a few false leads now and then, so be it. It wouldn’t make him bitter. True had protected his heart after the disappointment of his first marriage, determined never to hurt like that again. It had taken having Honey underfoot, impossible to ignore, to open him up again.
Lonny had learned from his brother’s experience. He’d be open to love, because he was ready for it. Ready for a family of his own. If “love” wasn’t the woman he’d romanced the night before, then he’d set his sights farther down the road.
He slapped his hat against his thigh and plopped it on his head, and then climbed the steps up to the wraparound porch.
The heavy wooden front door opened as he approached the house, and a cowboy a few years older than himself stood in the doorway. “You Lone Wyatt?”
“It’s my name.”
“Strange damn name.” His tone was flat, but his eyes held a hint of masculine challenge.
Lonny grinned, sure he was meeting the foreman, and that the other man was only prodding him to see how he reacted. “My mamma would take exception, but if it bothers you so much, you can call me Lonny.”
The corners of the man’s mouth twitched. He held out his hand. “Name’s Drew Fremont.” He stood aside and waved Lonny through the door. “Go on back down the hallway. Miz Kudrow’s waitin’ for us. We don’t stand on formality, but you will take your hat off inside the house.”
Lonny cleared his throat and removed his hat, hating the flush that crept up the back of his neck. The other man hadn’t needed to scold him like a child. He walked quietly down the hallway, admiring the golden oak floors and clean white stucco walls with pictures of horses, cowboys herding cattle—and a man and woman on their wedding day, looking so happy Lonny had to glance twice to place the face of the woman because she was different. She’d worn lipstick and her face was younger, her expression radiant as she stood gazing at the handsome man beside her.
So she was married. His chest tightened and his stomach dropped to his toes. How the hell had he gotten so unlucky as to pick her ranch?
“The office is at the end of the hallway,” Drew called after him.
Lonny shook his head, wondering how he could extricate himself from this situation, and turned the doorknob. Inside, the woman from the bar, the one he’d fingered to completion, looked up from a large desk that was too big for her and masculine. Where the hell was the mister?
Her gaze rose, then widened. Her jaw dropped an inch before it snapped shut again. A wild blush suffused her cheeks. “Mr. Wyatt?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.
He tilted his head. “Ma’am?” He kept his voice purposely uninflected while he gave her a piercing stare.
Drew passed him, taking up a position beside the desk. “Lonny’s the one who called about the job, Charli.”
Lonny stood frozen beneath her appalled stare until Drew indicated Lonny should take the chair across from Charli Kudrow.
Charli shook her head and swallowed hard. She glanced down at her desk, her eyes blinking rapidly as she slowly closed the ledger she’d been working on. Stalling for a moment, he was sure.
When she looked back up, her blush had receded. Her eyes snapped with fire. “You understand the pay’s not much. I expected someone younger…or older.”
He understood what she meant. A younger cowboy would hire on for the experience; an older hand wouldn’t mind the money because he’d be grateful for the work. “I was interested. The pay was adequate.”
“Was?”
Lonny didn’t clarify his words, not with Drew sitting beside them, his brows furrowing as he and Charli shared glances that held a certain familiarity.
“Your husband out of town?” Lonny asked, a subtle edge in his tone, one she picked up on because her face paled.
Drew cleared his throat. “Miz Kudrow’s a widow.”
Lonny felt like a heel at the sudden wash of relief loosening the knots in his shoulders. “Sorry for your loss, ma’am,” he mumbled.
“Charli,” she said softly. “No one calls me anything else.”
Lonny turned to Drew, whose gaze was narrowed, contemplating him. Did he sense the tension between them? “It’s just you two?”
“It’s a small spread.” Drew’s words were terse.
Foreman was a stretch with no hands to manage. “What needs doing?”
Drew cleared his throat. “We’ve cattle that have to be moved from pasture to pasture. Water’s dryin’ up, even in the biggest stock ponds. We have to move the livestock to keep them from killin’ what grass is left. Soon it’ll all be burned, so we’re truckin’ in hay. We’ve already sold off as many head as we could spare to cut expenses.”
Lonny nodded. “You mentioned horses on the phone.”
“Just what we need, or what cowboys need when we bring them on for brandin’. We used to train cuttin’ horses when Mr. Kudrow was alive.”
Again, Lonny nodded. Many small operations had folded under the drought. Those left held on, hoping for the climate to take a turn and for better times to come back.
Lonny settled back in his chair, trying to read the woman’s expression, but she sat still, barely breathing. He remembered how shocked she’d been when he’d first tried to pull her close as they danced—then how pliable she’d become the longer he’d held her.
A widow. With a foreman whose expression was becoming more doubtful the longer he stared between them. She wasn’t looking at Drew at all. But what the heck did that mean?
“Well, I’m interested,” Lonny said, glancing again at Charli, whose cheeks brightened with agitated color.
Drew’s jaw firmed, but he deferred to Charli.
Her brows drew together as she returned his steady stare.
“You’ll be stayin’ in the house,” Drew said. “The bunkhouse was closed up after the seasonal help left.”
Charli sat forward. “Although I’m sure if you want privacy, we could air it out, get some fresh linens on a bed.”
Was she nervous at the thought of sharing the same roof? Didn’t she trust herself?
Lonny smiled for the first time since he’d entered the house. He stood, cupping his hat in one hand, and reached across to shake Charli’s hand.
She lifted hers slowly and swallowed hard when he pressed her fingers. “Don’t bother yourselves. Here in the house is fine. I’m housebroken. You won’t even know I’m underfoot.”
After the cowboy left her office, Charli sat back in the big leather chair that had been her husband’s, trying to resist the urge to curl the fingers Lonny had held. They still shook. It was a good thing Drew had decided Lonny would start in the morning. She’d have time to get her head around the fact the cowboy she’d flirted with the night before would be sharing her roof.
“Housebroken?” Drew snorted. “Don’t know if I like him. He’s a cocky sonofabitch. Charli, if you’re uncomfortable around him, I’ll chase him down and tell him we don’t need his services.”
Charli couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t explain why she’d acted the way she had. Seeing Lonny after the sleepless night she’d spent thinking about the way he’d pleasured her made her feel naked—like her longings had been exposed for the world to see. Even this morning, she’d had a hard enough time pretending to Drew over breakfast that nothing was wrong.
“No, we need the help,” she said quietly.
He arched one dark brow. “You looked as though you’d seen a ghost. You two know each other? He said he was from Colorado.”
Charli shook her head. “He was at the saloon when I posted the ad on the board. I didn’t expect him to apply. That’s all.”
When Drew looked doubtful, she was tempted to blurt part of the truth, that they’d danced. But everything that had followed hadn’t meant anything, not to the younger cowboy, and she didn’t want Drew to think less of her if he guessed how much she’d been affected. The last thing she would ever admit was how far things had gone.
These past few months, Drew had made it clear he was willing to marry her. To take care of her. She hadn’t been quite so firm about letting him know where she stood. He had to be confused.
She’d been weak, just once, allowing him into her bed. The experience had been pleasant, but she thought they’d both been a little let down. Not for the first time, she wondered how convenient it would have been if they’d found enough of a spark to build their attraction into something more. They made sense. Everyone thought so.
Drew reached across the desk and cupped her hand inside his. “I’ll keep the boy so busy you won’t have to worry about him sniffin’ after you.”
“I don’t need you to watch out for me, Drew.”
His gaze grew shuttered. “No, you don’t.” He stood and walked toward the door, but hesitated before glancing over his shoulder. “Be sure what you want, Charli. But know this—I’ll always be there for you. I’m headin’ to town for while.”
She closed her eyes, knowing with a sinking dread that this moment had been a long time coming. He’d never declared his feelings for her outright, but he was an honorable man, and had told her in the only way he could when he’d climbed into her bed that he’d do right by her.
When she hadn’t responded with the same surety, he’d been disappointed. She knew he thought she’d come around, given time. That perhaps she still mourned Daniel and felt guilty for sleeping with his best friend, but that wasn’t really it.
She’d never felt the spark she’d been missing ever since Daniel had been killed. Sex with Drew had been a huge mistake, and not one she’d been willing to repeat. She hadn’t felt like a woman again until Lonny had pressed her close to his body and enticed her into riding his hard thigh.
Lord, she was in trouble. Someone was going to get hurt.
Charli sat back in her chair. Life was complicated enough. She hadn’t been born into life on a ranch, but she’d adapted when she’d married Daniel. When he’d died, she’d turned to Drew, and he’d pretty much shouldered the burden of the day-to-day. How unfair was it for her to use him that way? She’d mitigated her guilt by offering him an increasing share in the ranch. Soon, he’d be a full partner.
Now this. The handsome young cowboy was a temptation. But her attraction to him was purely physical. And she was old enough to know better. Still, when he’d stridden into the office, his expression intent, his gaze boring into hers, she’d felt as though fate was having a laugh at her expense.
The one thing she shouldn’t want, didn’t need, was going to be living under her roof, sleeping just down the hallway from her. Never mind that Drew’s bedroom faced his; she would feel Lonny’s presence and be tempted.
And what would she do if Drew pressed his attentions again? They’d drifted into a on-again, off-again thing—a couple of dates, and that one night when they’d both succumbed to loneliness.
He wanted more, but was respectful of the fact she didn’t. There was no way she could betray his years of friendship by doing something so sordid as starting an affair with another man when they’d shared so much already.
Maybe she was reading more into the younger cowboy’s expression than was really there. Maybe the heat that had darkened his green eyes wasn’t desire for her.
Yeah, and maybe he hadn’t gotten hard when he’d rubbed all over her during their one dance—or when he’d pressed against her as he’d pleasured her. He likely got that way whenever he held any woman close. A man like that had choices. Lots of them.
Nothing special had happened. The ache in her chest was a residual pain from the loss of her first lover. She was missing something she could never recapture. Best to remember that. She had other troubles more immediate to face.
She opened the ledger again and added the line of figures that only served to prove she didn’t need the distraction Lone Wyatt represented.
She kept her head down, adjusting planned expenditures until she was satisfied they’d make the next payment on their bank loan. When the brass gong in the grandfather clock chimed six times, she blinked. “Where’d the day go?”
Charli put
the ledger in the desk drawer and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen. She wasn’t really hungry, and knowing Drew would likely be out for the evening, she didn’t feel like cooking a meal.
The house was quiet. Too quiet. She decided to take a long bath.
However, soaking in a bubble bath didn’t soothe her restless edges. She dressed, throwing on jeans and a tight tee, then pulled on her scuffed boots, telling herself all the while that she’d hit the bar, eat a bowl of Jake’s greasy chili and head straight home.
She wasn’t even thinking about whether she’d see Lonny there. Not much, anyway. She certainly didn’t want to see him there chatting up another woman. It wasn’t until she turned in to the parking lot that she realized her heart was thudding inside her chest at just the thought of his tall, muscled frame.
Slowing, she circled the saloon, trying to talk herself out of doing something reckless, because in the mood she was in, she knew she was looking for trouble.
On the pass around the back side of the saloon, which faced the only motel in town, she braked hard.
Drew’s truck was parked in front of one of the rooms. She set her parking brake and turned off the ignition, curiosity too piqued to ignore. She hadn’t wanted him enough to invite him back into her bed, but she’d never even considered he might have needs he’d have to take care of with someone else.
Thankful for the falling darkness, she walked quietly to the door and leaned toward it. She heard muffled laughter. Light gleamed in the crack between the curtains, and even though she knew it was wrong, she couldn’t resist trying to see inside.
She edged toward the gap and stared.
Drew was naked, his body completely revealed in profile. She knew all too well he was good-looking man, and breathed deeply at the sight of his burly frame, coated with dark hair on his chest and legs. His heavy cock was erect, tipped toward a pretty brunette Charli didn’t recognize, who was gazing up at Drew, her lower lip held between her teeth.
Drew’s hand reached and grasped the woman’s head, fingers digging into the thick strands, and he pulled her down, spreading his legs while she knelt in front of him. His face was hard, cheeks stark, his gaze hungry slits as he bracketed the woman’s cheeks and forced her closer.
Lone Heart: Red Hot Weekend Page 2