by Joanna Sims
Nick drove them an hour out of the city to a picturesque country suburb of Chicago named Hampshire. Dallas felt herself immediately start to breathe more slowly in the country—it was beyond her imagination that land this tranquil and sparsely populated was an hour drive away from the city center.
“What do you think?” Nick asked her.
“I love it out here.” She had rolled her window down and was enjoying the feel of the fresh air on her face. “I can breathe out here.”
Nick laughed. “I breathe just fine in the city.”
Dallas reached over and put her hand on his leg. Nick taking time off from work was a major deal for him—and for him to make a plan to get her out of the city was exactly the kind of thoughtfulness that made her fall in love with him a little bit more each day.
“That’s ’cuz you’re a city mouse and I’m a country mouse.”
Dallas leaned her head back with a happy smile. The fewer people and more land she saw, the better she felt. And, as a bonus, she actually saw horses! An hour out of downtown Chicago, horses! And pasture. It made her feel like she wasn’t in a foreign land after all—there had to be at least one or two of her peeps out here in the burbs.
“I think this is it.” Nick slowed his car when the GPS indicated that his turn was a few feet ahead.
“What is it?”
“The place I wanted to show you.”
Dallas sat upright and put her hands on the dash when she saw a large sign for an equestrian center. It was then that Dallas knew exactly why Nick had brought her out to the suburban countryside: he wanted to show her how she could live near Chicago while still training for her barrel racing competitions.
“Keep an open mind,” Nick said when he parked the car.
“Trust me.” Dallas leaned over to give a quick kiss. “My mind is wide-open.”
* * *
Nick loved watching Dallas at the stable, particularly when she spotted someone training their horse in a Western saddle, wearing a cowboy hat! His plan was to show Dallas that, if their relationship progressed as he hoped it would, she didn’t have to give up her horses or her training. In fact, he believed that he could help her reach her goal of earning enough money to qualify for the NFR in Las Vegas. What she needed was an infusion of sponsorship money—that money could be used to buy an extra horse so she could rotate Blue out, give him time to rest, while she kept right on competing. The sponsorship money could go to buying a new rig, traveling expenses—he’d also noticed that some of the top contenders, the women who were on their way to NFR this year, had assistants. Why shouldn’t Dallas? God knew she had all the talent she needed. She was Davy Dalton’s daughter, and it showed—she had his gift with horses, his charisma when it counted and his competitive spirit. Nick had seen Dallas’s magnetic appeal—heck, he had fallen under her spell right away—she had that undeniable, intangible “it” factor that made a star a star.
“Ah!” Dallas slumped into the passenger seat with a contented smile on her face. “I love this place! The facilities, the arenas—the indoor arena so I can keep on trainin’ right through the winter. Plenty of pasture for turnout.”
Nick loved to watch her face when she spoke about her passion and her profession—her face flushed a pretty shade of rosy pink, her eyes sparkled.
“And they ride Western here too! I didn’t expect that at all. Not at all.”
He had expected it. He had picked this facility specifically because it was the only one that catered to both English and Western riders.
“Oh...” Dallas sighed happily. “Don’t you just love the smell of hay and manure?”
Nick clicked his seat belt with a shake of his head. “No. I can’t say that I do.”
* * *
That night, they were back on track. They shed their clothing and met each other halfway at the center of the bed. Facing each other, their arms and legs intertwined, their bodies connected, they kissed and murmured sounds of pleasure and words of love as they found their rhythm. It was like an intimate dance, so close, so passionate—their bodies were pressed tightly together as if they didn’t want to have any distance between them. Nick rolled Dallas onto her back, keeping their bodies connected, braced his feet on the bed and thrust into her, deeper, harder, until she was gasping in his arms, clawing her fingernails down his back.
“Yes, baby.” Nick kissed her neck. “Come for me.”
Dallas writhed beneath him, pushing against his groin, wanting more of him, wanting all of him. He held her tight, the muscles in his arms tense and hurting, but he didn’t let her go until she had stilled beneath him. Her face and neck and hairline were damp with perspiration. He kissed her face—her forehead, her eyes, her lips.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured against her lips.
Dallas wrapped one leg around his back and they rolled together, still connected, always connected, until he was on his back and she was straddling him. The look on her face when she began to move up and down his hard shaft almost made him climax on the spot. Sheer control; sheer desire.
His cowgirl rode him slow and deep, bracing her hands on his abdomen, pushing down on him; he held on to her healthy hips, digging his fingers into her flesh, guiding her body back and forth until he felt himself begin to climax. She knew his sound—that sound he made when his body was ready for that ephemeral wave of ecstasy. Dallas leaned back, put her arms behind her and rested them on his thighs.
Nick was mesmerized by the beauty of the sexy woman loving him—watching her, her head back, her small breasts, the tips of her hair brushing across the tops of his thighs.
“Ahhhhh!” Nick bucked upward as he climaxed.
It was such a powerful orgasm that it felt like he could have blown right through that condom. In his mind, he kept on wanting to rip off that condom, shove himself deep inside Dallas and pump her full of his seed. The more he thought about getting Dallas pregnant, the hotter he’d gotten.
Dallas collapsed forward to rest before they uncoupled their bodies. She kissed his bare chest and then kissed his lips.
“I love you too, Nick.”
“I know you do, baby.” Nick brushed her hair off her back and held her close for one minute more. “I feel it.”
Chapter Fourteen
The equestrian farm was for Dallas. Today was for him. He’d been waiting all week to take Dallas out on his family’s yacht and show her Lake Michigan. This was his lake—the only thing he loved more than practicing law was being out on the lake with his friends. He wanted Dallas to feel the way he did about the lake—he wanted her to fit seamlessly into his group of “lake bums” who had been swimming or boating Lake Michigan since they were all kids. They had grown up together on this lake. In a way, the waters of this great lake were his second home.
His family’s yacht club, Chicago Yacht Club, was a short fifteen minutes away from his condo. His life, his work life, his play life, had always been a small circumference. That was how he liked it. If he moved out to the suburbs with Dallas, if their relationship progressed to a more committed level, he would have to give up his easy access to Lake Michigan and would have to commute to work.
“Here she is,” Nick said proudly of the sleek white-and-silver yacht in the sloop. His father had named the yacht Amicus Curiae, translated from Latin: Friend of the Court.
“Do you like her?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.
“Absolutely, I do.”
Nick ensured that she boarded the yacht safely; they walked up four narrow steps to the main deck of the yacht.
“Do you drive this monster?” she asked him.
“Since I was twelve.” He put his gear on an L-shaped couch located on the main deck.
Dallas spun around the large living room area that included several sitting areas, a dining area and a staircase leading do
wn to the lower deck.
“I’ll take you topside in a minute—but I want to show you the bedrooms and the kitchen.”
Nick led Dallas down the narrow staircase to the four cabins below. The master bedroom was a large room that allowed for a queen-size bed, a roomy bathroom with a shower and a cozy sitting area that could be used as a reading nook, a game table or a place to have an intimate dinner away from guests.
“This’s bigger than the house I grew up in,” Dallas noted. “Heck, this boat—”
“Yacht.”
“Boat. Yacht. Whatever you call it, it’s bigger than my place now.”
Nick hugged her with a smile. “I’ve been waiting for this day all week. I love being on the water as much as you love racing.”
He took her topside—there was as open-air captain’s chair with a copilot seat, a place to sunbathe at the front of the yacht and a banquet for eating, drinking and merrymaking.
“Make yourself at home,” Nick said. “I’ve got to hit the checklist before everyone starts to arrive. I want to be able to get out on the water as soon as the gang’s aboard.”
* * *
Dallas sat down at the outdoor banquet on the topside while Nick took care of his presailing checklist. Every once in a while, Nick would catch her eye and smile at her. Even when he was going about his business, he was worried about her comfort. No man in her life, not even her father, had ever spent so much of his time making sure that she was okay. It was refreshing, frightening and hard to trust. But, then again, she had difficulty with trust in general.
“Jordan’s comin’ today, right?” she asked.
Nick looked up from his task on the starboard side of the yacht. “As far as I know.”
“Is her husband comin’ with her?”
“No. He had to go back to San Diego—Jordan stayed behind to close the exhibit.”
Dallas was relieved that Jordan was coming on this outing—the idea of being stuck on a boat, even a roomy one like this, with all Nick’s friends and colleagues made her skin itch. She wasn’t really much of a people person, and she really wasn’t much of a fan of the “upper crust.” There were plenty of people in barrel racing who had loads more money than common sense or common decency. Money didn’t make the man or woman, and sometimes it turned people rotten. Now, maybe she was rushing to judgment with Nick’s friends from his yacht and country club—after all, he had shed much of his elitism instilled in him by his mother—so she was open to them proving her wrong.
Either way, Jordan would be a friendly face from home as well as an ally in a crowd of strangers. Unfortunately, Jordan, who had a reputation for being unfashionably late, had to call Nick and tell him to hold the yacht. By then, twenty of Nick’s friends, male and female, had arrived and had truly made themselves at home on the Amicus Curiae. The comfort level of all Nick’s friends on the family yacht gave Dallas an inkling as to how often this gang got together to party on Lake Michigan.
“Nicky!” Dallas heard Jordan’s voice from her perch on the cocaptain’s chair on the sundeck. “Dallas!”
Dallas hopped off the white cushioned chair and leaned over the deck railing so she could wave at Nick’s cousin.
Jordan, thankfully, seemed as out of step with Nick’s friends as she was—Jordan was wearing black cigarette pants, a black ribbed tank that showed off two tattooed arm cuffs on each of her biceps. She had large sunglasses on, and her lavender hair looked a deeper shade of purple in the bright sun. Jordan looked like she had stepped out of a rock-and-roll magazine, just as much as she looked like she stepped out of a calendar for John Deere tractor.
“Sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Jordan stopped on the top step that led up to the sundeck with dramatic flair. “I thought I’d missed the boat, for sure.”
“You’ve missed something,” Nick teased her.
“Ha-ha, coz.” Jordan hugged her cousin. “I’m here so you can drop anchor or shove off or whatever is appropriate for a mammoth vessel such as this.”
Jordan pulled up her sunglasses so Dallas could see her wink before she dropped the glasses back down over her Brand-blue eyes. As she hugged Dallas, she said, “You’ve got to keep the Brand men in check, Dallas, so they’re clear who’s boss.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Dallas hugged Jordan back, probably a little tighter than she needed to—but after the brief time spent with Nick’s friends, Dallas felt like she needed two things: a life vest in case she needed to abandon ship and Jordan to stop her from jumping overboard.
Dallas didn’t want to think that his friends were awful—but they were awful. They all came with baggage, and not just carry-on. Although they all had plenty of that. They came with expensive designer bags that they tossed around and dropped on the deck as if they were cloth sacks from the thrift store. The women were in full regalia, even though they were supposed to be ready for a day in the sun. Their makeup was done, tasteful, but noticeable. They had all their jewelry on display, designer sunglasses, the works. They were wearing high heels—on a yacht! How smart was that? Now, some of them had been very friendly, but the conversation had fizzled out soon after the introductions because they only had Nick in common. Others were just as snotty and elitist as Nick’s mother.
“That good, huh?” Jordan said, apparently picking up on the meaning behind the death-grip hug.
“Yeah...” Jordan continued as she looked around at the crowd. “That’s about right.”
Jordan held up her ivory-white arms and added, “This skin does not do sun, so when you get tired of flirting with the captain, come find me.”
For the first part of the trip on Lake Michigan, Dallas forgot about Nick’s friends and focused on the scenery of the great lake and on Captain Brand. It was sunny and breezy, the yacht cut through the water like a dream and Dallas was having one of the best times of her trip to Chicago. This was in part because watching Nick captaining the yacht, sharing one of his loves with her, was so much fun. Nick looked every bit the preppy young professional with nicely cut shorts, a sapphire-blue short-sleeve button-down with UV protection built-in and slip-resistant boat shoes without socks. She had never realized that preppy could be so sexy—but it was definitely sexy on Nick.
“Are you loving this?” Nick smiled at her, his hands steady on the wheel.
She nodded and returned his smile.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Nick said for the second time that day.
“Me too,” Dallas replied, and meant it wholeheartedly.
At least for the next thirty minutes.
* * *
“How is she?” Nick had left his captain’s perch to check on her belowdecks in the master bedroom.
Dallas saw Jordan hitch her thumb toward the bathroom as she opened the door. She shut the door behind her, her hand on her churning stomach.
“I’m glad I had a small breakfast,” she answered.
As they were known to do, the water conditions on Lake Michigan had turned choppy and rough, and that rocking motion had introduced her to seasickness.
“Oh, baby—you don’t look so good.”
It was the truth and she knew it. Her face, which typically had a nice healthy color, had a yellowish-green undertone. She was so seasick that she had lost her breakfast, and thanked the sea gods that she hadn’t had a chance to eat any of the food that was on board.
“Here.” Nick pulled the covers back on the bed. “See if lying down will help.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, her stomach feeling sicker than when she had the flu, Dallas was grateful at how kind Nick was being about her getting sick. Nick helped her pull off her boots before he helped her lean back.
“Who’s steering the boat?” Dallas asked with a frog-like hoarse voice.
“Yacht,” he corrected teasingly.
He brushed h
er hair off her forehead. “I’m going to turn around and head back.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I can’t have a good time knowing you’re down here feeling lousy,” he said with concerned eyes. “Besides, not having you up there with me is taking some of the fun out of it for me.”
Jordan promised to stay with her while Nick cut the trip short and headed back to shore.
“That Nick, he’s all right.” Jordan was lying on top of the covers beside her.
“He is.”
“I don’t know what he sees in that group up there. There’s only one or two I’d be willing to toss a lifesaver to if they fell overboard.”
Dallas gave a laugh for a second, which ended with a groan.
Jordan looked at her. “Well, it’s true. Grandma Brand would call them all a bunch of phony baloneys.”
“My pappy would call them all a bunch of heifers in houndstooth. I never knew what that meant, but I knew what it meant.”
“Do you know one of them actually asked me if I got my skin bleached? I wanted to slap her right off the boat,” Jordan said with a laugh.
“Yacht.”
“Whatever.” Her new friend added, “And if I heard one more of them call your accent adorable...”
“I know. I can tell most of them think I’m as dumb as a dirt farmer.”
“Well—Nick proved that he could spot quality when he decided to take you off the market.”
“Thank you...”
“You’re welcome. Now all he needs is to start seriously thinning the herd—”
“Preach.”
“—and we kicked it in high school shouldn’t be the only criteria for making the cut.”
* * *
The day he’d planned on Lake Michigan didn’t turn out exactly how he’d imagined it. He had wanted to have time to circulate through his friends with Dallas on his arm in order to integrate these two separate components of his life together. Dallas spent all her time, preseasickness, as his copilot and he loved the time they had shared—that was a highlight. But when she did get seasick, the opportunity for her to get to know his friends was cut short.