Down Home Cowboy

by Maisey Yates

  It was perfect. That moment of ecstasy. That moment of nothing. Where there was nothing beyond that shared instant of breathless passion.

  But then the world started to creep in around them, and the reality of what had happened settled on her. She was completely naked now, lying on a table in her bakery with a man buried deep inside of her.

  And as that reality took hold, she realized that she was still happy with the decision. It hadn’t been a decision, not really. It had been need. Pure and simple. There had been no real decision-making at all.

  It had been desire that was bigger than she was, and she could never regret that she had experienced it. That she, Alison Davis, had been swept away on a tide of passion that only a few years ago she would have said she didn’t possess the ability to feel.

  A limp, colorless woman who was cracked, bruised and beaten down would never have done something like this. This wasn’t her healing, no. It was the evidence that she had already healed. It was beautiful, blindingly brilliant.

  But it was over, and that really sucked.

  He leaned forward, his muscles shaking as he did, and he brushed his lips against hers. And there it was, that kiss that they had both acknowledged it would end with.

  “Cain,” she said, pressing her fingertips against his biceps, feeling all that weakened strength beneath her touch. “I don’t want that to be our last kiss.”

  * * *

  CAIN COULD BARELY BREATHE, let alone think. Let alone try to untangle the words that Alison had just whispered. He was still inside of her, and he knew he needed to move, since he was probably crushing her into the hard surface of the table. But everything in his body had gone lethargic, making him far too satisfied to contemplate shifting position.

  He didn’t really want to untangle Alison’s words. Because that meant dealing with things like time, reality and the English language, and he wasn’t feeling in the right headspace to do any of that.

  No, what he wanted to do was give it about ten minutes, get a new condom and start all over again. Four years of celibacy was a hell of a lot, and one round of incredible sex was hardly going to burn it off. No, all it had done was remind him why sex was something wars were started over.

  It was that damn good.

  Better than whiskey, it burned things clean, made things feel clear. At least in the moment. Made that moment, that bright, white-hot moment of release seem like the perfect one. And he had had so many years of imperfect that it was exactly what he had needed.

  Delicate fingertips fluttered against his chest, and he looked down at the face of the woman he was still on top of.

  “What?”

  She giggled, honest-to-goodness giggled, making her internal muscles pulse around him as she did. His breath hissed through his teeth and he moved away from her then, because safe sex demanded that he did.

  “Something funny?” he asked.

  “Kind of. I mean, I’m sort of amused by the idea that I screwed your brains out. So you didn’t hear what I just said.”

  “You would be correct.” He looked around. “Bathroom?”

  “That way,” she said, gesturing to a blue door with a little sign in the back. All the doors in this place were blue. Kind of an antique, washed color that complemented the exposed brick nicely. And he really didn’t care about any of those details, because he’d just had sex.

  “Be right back.”

  He strode into the bathroom and took care of the condom as quickly as possible, walking back out and realizing that it was a little bit strange standing in the middle of what was a public place during daylight hours wearing nothing but his skin. He had gotten up to a fair amount of mischief back before his marriage. And he had definitely had sex in places other than a bed, but the closest he’d ever come to public sex was parked somewhere up in the woods in the back seat of a car.

  Not exactly the quaint, small-town bakery he now found himself in.

  He’d hoped Alison might start putting herself back together while he was in the bathroom so he could gain some control of himself.

  But she was still naked, standing in the center of a bakery, looking like the best treat on the menu.

  “So, what did you say?” he asked.

  She cleared her throat. “Earlier, we talked about this ending with a kiss. Well, I don’t want that kiss you just gave me to be the end of it. It was too good.”

  Her words echoed exactly what he had been thinking earlier. Though, he had been thinking of an immediate round two. He had the box of condoms right out in his truck, and he had no problem bringing them in and suggesting it. He had a feeling, however, that she was talking about something else.

  “I’m definitely listening.”

  “I know you have a lot on your plate. And I... I have a lot on mine. So, I’m suggesting that while we’re both dealing with all those things on our plate, we help each other with a little bit of stress relief.”

  “Stress relief. As in...”

  “As in all the orgasms we have time to give each other.”

  Cain rubbed his chin. “I mean, I like the idea behind that.”

  “I’m going to be honest with you,” she said, taking a deep breath. The slow intake of air caused her breasts to rise and fall gently, the slight bounce in them captivating his attention entirely. It had been four years since he had seen a pair of naked breasts. In person. Pictures really didn’t do them justice. Well, pictures were pretty good, but he really did prefer them live.

  “Sorry, if you’re making detailed plans right now you’re only going to have to repeat them later. Because all I can do is look at you.”

  She rolled her eyes, an expression of mock irritation written across her face. But her cheeks turned pink, and he could tell that she was secretly pleased with the attention she was getting.

  “I’ve been really busy setting up the bakery for the past few years,” she said, bending down to collect her T-shirt, which she pulled over her head, without the bra. That was not a whole lot less distracting as far as he was concerned. Then she picked up her jeans and put those on too. She grabbed her underwear and her bra, holding them in her hand. “And I haven’t exactly made room in my life for men, by which I mean sex. I still don’t have room in my life for a man, by which I mean an emotional commitment. But I really have missed the sex.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been in a little bit of a post-divorce dry spell, myself. By which I mean, the entire post-divorce period.”

  “Really?” She lifted a brow. “That surprises me.”

  “You’ve seen what I’ve been dealing with. It shouldn’t be that surprising. Plus, I don’t really want Violet to go out and randomly hook up, so it didn’t seem like something I could do.”

  “How old are you, Cain?”

  “Thirty-eight.”

  “Well,” Alison said, “she’s sixteen. So, for her hooking up really isn’t the best idea. But you’re certainly entitled.”

  “I should have consulted with you a long time ago, since you seem to think I’m entitled to sex.”

  She smiled. “Maybe I missed my calling. Maybe all this time I was supposed to be some sort of therapist.”

  “Butter, remember. Butter is better than therapy.”

  “How about sex?”

  “Better than butter.”

  “Not really tempted to get into that as my line of work, but if you and I can come to some sort of agreement...”

  “I have to sort out all of this stuff with Violet. And as much as I want to blow it all off and... Well, blow being an interesting choice of words...”

  “I’m not asking you to take any time away from your family. But you were able to come over here tonight.”

  He nodded slowly. “True. And we do live with my brothers, so they’d be able to keep an eye on her, and on every
thing else while I’m away.” They had made the offer before, and he had always turned it down. Right now, he really couldn’t remember why. Right now, he felt like past Cain was a bit of a dickbag.

  “Good. Because I have to say, after breaking my sex fast in such a spectacular way, I’m not looking forward to jumping right back into a drought.”

  “Same goes.”

  “You are just...” She smiled again, a smile that could only be called dreamy. He really couldn’t say how long it had been since a woman had looked at him like that. Maybe never. “You’re just very good.”

  “You make a man want to be good, honey. You’re so beautiful, it makes it easy to be thorough.”

  That only made her smile harder, and the jolt that gave him was almost as powerful as the jolt he’d gotten from his recent orgasm. Almost.

  “You’re not so hard on the eyes yourself.”

  “I’ll take it.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve certainly been called worse.”

  He bent down, picked up his jeans and started to tug them on. She groaned. “Why do you have to take my show?”

  “Because I really should go home,” he said, grabbing his T-shirt next and pulling it on. “I didn’t tell anybody where I was going. Usually, I can get things covered. But I probably shouldn’t disappear without notice.”

  “Do you... Do you have to tell your brothers about us?”

  He glanced up, raised a brow. “I mean, I should probably let them know that I met someone. But I don’t see why they have to know it’s you.”

  She looked relieved about that. “Good. And please don’t be offended by that. It’s just that this is a small town, and things get complicated quickly. There’s a lot of gossip. And we really don’t want that kind of thing getting around. I don’t want Violet knowing—” She cringed. “I really don’t want Violet knowing.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t either. If there’s one thing I’m not explaining to my sixteen-year-old, it’s my sex life. And if she knew that my sex life was tangled up in her work life, I might end up in the position where I have to. And that just isn’t happening.”

  “Okay. So we agree on secrecy.”

  “Fine with me.”

  “I guess...call me. Call me when you...want sex?”

  He would be calling her in ten minutes. But he still had a life to take care of, and he would have to remember that. It wasn’t just seeing to Violet. It was taking care of the ranch, continuing work on the home that he was renovating for Violet and himself. Important things that he couldn’t let fall by the wayside just because he was finally getting some.

  “Sure.” He took his hat from the table where he had left it and put it back on his head. Reflexively, he tipped it forward, and was gratified by the color that rose up in her cheeks.

  Hell, if she had grumpy cowboy fantasies, he was her man. And he was going to go ahead and enjoy being the fulfillment of something rather than being a wrecking ball.

  “See you later,” he said, turning and undoing the locks on the bakery door before stepping outside into the crystal clear night and closing it firmly behind him. He took a few steps down the street, then stopped, planting his hands on his hips and drawing in a long, deep breath.

  The air was damp and mingled with the scent of salt from the sea. The waves crashing against the shore just beyond the buildings sounded almost like the impending roar of a storm.

  Strange, for the first time in a while, to feel everything still and at peace inside of him while the raging went on outside.

  This was good. This was better than good. It made him feel like he had his boots firmly planted back on the ground. He had stepped out onto this very street a couple of times in the past week, feeling disoriented. Feeling like he wasn’t sure how he had gotten here. But he damn sure knew how he had gotten here tonight. He had gotten in his truck and he had driven. He had chosen to come down here. Chosen to be with Alison.

  And he would have a chance to be with her again. And again, and again. No emotional entanglements, just a chance to work some of that darkness out of his soul. For a moment, that thought made him feel just a tiny bit guilty. Because if Alison was anything, it was softness and sweet sugar. And he was... Well, all rough hands and dirt.

  But she didn’t seem to mind. And he had to figure that if he needed a little bit of what she had, maybe she needed a bit of what he had.

  Yeah. That made sense to him.

  And he had to admit, even if only to himself out here on this dark, empty street, that being needed felt pretty damn good.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “THANKS FOR HELPING with all of this, Lane,” Alison said, surveying the trays of miniature pies, cookies and cupcakes that were about to be taken out to Grassroots Winery for a wedding.

  Grassroots Winery was nestled deep in the trees, between Copper Ridge and the neighboring town of Gold Valley, so it was a little bit of a drive, and it was nice to have company.

  She didn’t particularly want to be alone with her thoughts this morning. Not when they were still full of Cain and his body and his...everything.

  “No problem. I needed to make a delivery out that way anyway. And needed to pick up some more wine for the Mercantile.” Lane owned a specialty food store in town, and the two of them had a lot of fun trading ingredients that Alison turned into baked goods.

  Both of them had begun working with Lindy Parker recently when the other woman expanded her efforts at the winery. Lindy had recently gotten divorced, which put her in control of the winery, and she was making the most of it.

  “Still, I hate to take advantage of my friend with a truck at every opportunity.”

  Lane grinned. “You hate to, but you do it often enough.”

  “Guilty.”

  She was guilty of a few other things too. Such as trying to get her rear out of the bakery to avoid both Violet and flashbacks to last night, when Cain had taken her so expertly in that quaint little dining room where people were currently sitting and eating their morning pastries.

  She had sanitized that table extra. Because while no one in there would ever know what had happened, she knew.

  She had hoped she would be able to get over it, but when Pastor John Thompson had taken a seat in that very spot with his Bible and croissant, embarrassment had spread over her skin like fire. She had been tempted to do a few Hail Marys, and she wasn’t Catholic. Neither was Pastor John.

  Until she got a handle on all the memories, it was best that she get some fresh air and escape the scene of her most recent indiscretion.

  Except she didn’t really feel like it was an indiscretion. It was a decision, in many ways. Sure, one that had been made by the incredible attraction between them, but when it came to sex, if you weren’t doing it for love, you had better be doing it for desire like this.

  Love, she didn’t care much for. What had happened last night on the other hand, well, she cared for that a whole lot.

  She got into Lane’s truck, and Lane started to drive out of town, heading away from the coast, inland to the mountains that cut a jagged line across the sky. The highway that led to the winery was long and straight, lined by tall, dense trees. Evergreens that stood sentry year round, a thick carpet of ferns covering the ground beneath them.

  Everything seemed clearer this morning. Beautiful, more than usual somehow. Like she was looking at it with fresh eyes, rather than the same tired eyes that had taken in this scenery for most of her life.

  She could have left town four years ago. Could have left all this behind. But, in that instant, she was more glad than ever that she had chosen to stay. That she had chosen to dig in and call these roots her own, rather than ceding them to the man who had already taken so much from her.

  Because if she had left, then she wouldn’t have had this moment. This moment of absolute clari
ty. This moment where she had the opportunity to look at something old and see it as new because something inside of her had changed. It was abundantly clear that that was what had occurred. That what had happened last night with Cain had altered something, shifted something, added something that was missing.

  “You’re quiet this morning,” Lane commented.

  “Sorry,” Alison said, jerking her focus away from the scene below. “Just tired.”

  “You don’t seem tired. You seem...contemplative.”

  “Interesting. I don’t feel more contemplative than normal.” That was a lie. She was exceedingly contemplative. Deep in contemplation, as a matter of fact. But nothing she was ready to share. Although, with her, sharing always felt like a complicated thing. Usually, the deep ruminations were tied up in her past, and it was always difficult for her to decide if she wanted to talk about those things, or if she wanted to pretend they had never happened.

  It changed on any given day.

  “I guess things are really tough between Cain and Violet right now,” Lane said, her tone conversational and light. Too conversational and light. Because Lane was far more intentional than she was pretending to be right at this moment.

  “I had a talk with him,” Alison said, attempting to keep her voice neutral. “The other morning. About that. He’s hoping that I can figure out how he can communicate with her better, or something. Or at the very least let him know if I see her hanging out with people she shouldn’t be.”

  Lane sighed. “He’s a good guy. A great guy. But he’s very... He’s not the kind of guy who radiates sensitivity. And right now, I think Violet might need a little more sensitivity in her life.”

  “Spoken by one formerly rebellious teenager to another,” Alison said, “I’m not sure there’s much that can be done. You decide to make mistakes, and you go make your own mistakes.”

  Lane grimaced. “I guess. I mean, I don’t think anything would have stopped me from sleeping with my boyfriend back when I was in high school. I’m not sure there’s anything my parents could have done on that score, but...the way they reacted when they found out I was pregnant, that I wish I could change. If I had known that I was loved and supported it all would have been very different. I mean, I still might have given the baby up for adoption, but I wouldn’t have left home.”