by Mia Ford
She couldn’t kick him or reach him, and now she was growing desperate.
“If you don’t let me go Conrad I’m going to scream. You can’t do this to me.” Celia blubbered, hot tears pricking the back of her eyelids.
“I can do whatever I want. I am the master of this house and you have to do as I say.” Conrad said, before giving her breast a tight painful squeeze. Celia gasped and tears had begun to roll down her eyes; when she heard Wilder’s voice.
“I am the master of this house, little brother and if you don’t let her go I’ll make sure your legs are too broken for you to walk.” Wilder’s voice was the same deep and harsh, brimming with rage and yet he wasn’t yelling. He was much more calm than he was in the past few days. His voice had an immediate effect on Celia, even though she couldn’t see him she felt her blood beginning to pump with excitement into her veins.
Conrad’s grip on her body relaxed and Celia slipped out of his arms and whipped around to face both the brothers.
“You need to stay out of this, Wilder. She is not your wife and you have no authority over her.” Conrad’s laugh had gone. He had turned to his brother with clenched jaws and nostrils flaring. To Celia’s surprise, Wilder smiled at his brother. A smile that she had seen so seldom that every time he did it she was too surprised to speak. It was a handsome rugged smile, making his cheeks stretch, his blue eyes glitter.
“She isn’t my wife, you’re right Conrad. But she isn’t your property either. Just like this ranch isn’t. You are a guest in my house and it’s time you understood that.” Wilder was speaking evenly still, ignoring Celia’s presence and keeping his watchful eyes on Conrad the whole time.
“She wants this!” Conrad yelled, flipping his head to look at her. Celia backed away into a wall. She was too terrified of Conrad now, of the whole situation, to be able to speak or defend herself.
When Conrad looked at her, Wilder took a few steps towards him. Conrad was startled, and he nearly ducked, making it clear that he was indeed scared of his brother. He had every reason to be scared of him.
“Leave her alone, Conrad. I’m telling you this for the last time.” Wilder growled. Conrad didn’t reply, but instead stared back at his brother with rage in his eyes.
“You’re dreaming if you think that she wants you. None of them want you Wilder. You have nothing to offer any woman.” Conrad managed to speak up.
“Shut up Conrad. Don’t put words in my mouth.” Celia found herself screaming. She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t remain silent any more while Conrad continued to bruise his brother’s ego. Wilder needed affection, someone to believe in him. And none of Conrad’s words or actions were helping.
Both the men were looking at her now.
“I do want him. I never wanted you, but I’m in love with him.” Celia blurted out, and was instantly conscious of what she had just said. She could feel her cheeks flushing, the back of her neck growing hot. The brothers were still staring at her and when she looked up she saw that a small thin smile had started to appear on Wilder’s face.
“Get out of her Conrad, before I fling you out of the house myself.” Wilder turned to his brother. Conrad looked at them both, ground his teeth in anger and then brushed past Celia to walk back to his bedroom.
The house was ill lit and she could barely see Wilder’s face except for the silvery light that the moon was splashing in that spot. It had turned Wilder’s face into a bright white, as they stood there in silence. They were looking at each other. Celia’s heart was racing, beating out of her chest as she studied his face, his expression. She hadn’t lied, she loved this man. Everything she knew about him, she loved. She felt safe around him, and she wasn’t afraid. Wilder Moore would never be able to hurt her.
“I’m sorry for Conrad’s behavior.” Wilder said, breaking the silence after several minutes.
“You don’t have to apologize for him. It’s as much my fault. I suppose I encouraged him.” Celia admitted, wringing her hands together. She was nervous because she was excited, she had wanted this for so long…just to be able to speak to Wilder. To be this close to him and alone with him again.
“Why did you encourage him, Celia?” He asked her. She hung her head low and then looked up at him again.
“Because I was mad at you. Because I thought you didn’t want me. I suppose I wanted to make you jealous, or teach you a lesson…I don’t know. I was wrong, whatever I did.” She replied. Wilder was still looking at her. His blue eyes had softened. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and his sandy blonde hair fell thickly around his neck. His beard was still growing; he hadn’t shaved in days. Celia had crane her neck up to look at him, he was much taller than her.
“You succeeded then, Celia. Because I was very jealous, and very angry.”
“I know what happened with your wife.” She cut in. Wilder raised his eyebrows, but he wasn’t upset to hear her say it.
“I know what she did, what Conrad did…why did you force her to leave and allowed him to stay after that?” She asked.
“Because he’s my brother. Katherine was an outsider, a girl I knew only for a few months. She had married me for the money, I had always known that. And I married her because I wanted an heir for the ranch.” Wilder explained. Celia watched him intently as he spoke, he didn’t seem angry any more. It was like a dam inside him had burst open and all of this was just spilling out of him. He wanted to tell her, he believed that she needed to know.
“And Conrad was foolish, and jealous of me and arrogant. But I couldn’t just kick him out. He would have nowhere to go. Our father had left him with nothing.” Wilder continued.
Celia hung her head, ashamed that she had misjudged Wilder for a different man.
“So you don’t hate all women? You don’t hate me?” She managed to ask, meeting his eyes with a bite of her lower lip.
Wilder took a step in her direction and she saw the smile form on his face.
“Of course I don’t hate you, Celia. I wanted you with a burning desire from the moment I saw you at the train station. I hated myself for wanting you. I wanted to stop myself but I couldn’t.” Wilder was speaking in words that Celia had never imagined he could use. She stepped towards him and reached for his face tenderly. He was looking down at her, her lips began to quiver.
“Wilder, I want you too. Don’t listen to anything Conrad says. I want you. I love you.” She couldn’t hold herself back any more, she stood up on her toes and kissed him.
Wilder’s hands enveloped her small waist as he held her to himself, kissing her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Celia sighed as she kissed him back. This was all she ever wanted. She explored his chest with her fingers, dropping her hands to his groin where she could feel a growing bulge.
This time he didn’t stop her, he thrust himself towards her and Celia pulled away from him and smiled.
“I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you were incapable of wanting anyone.” She whispered to him. Their foreheads were knocking against each-others, she was breathing in his air. Wilder smiled at her.
“I love you Celia. Of-course I want you. That first night happened because I couldn’t control myself. I can always control myself.” Wilder insisted, his hand now beginning to explore the front of her dress. She could see the desperation in his eyes again. She knew what he wanted, she wanted the same. He needed to be inside her so that they could feel whole again. This time apart had made them both desperate. They needed each other.
“What is going to happen with Conrad?” She asked him, pulling her face away from him as he was about to kiss her.
“He is going to go fulfill his dream. I’ll give him the money he needs. He can go back to New York and try making a living there again. He’s unhappy here, bored and lonely. And I don’t need him here.” Wilder said, running his large hands through her own unruly curls. He seemed to be enjoying feeling the soft texture of her hair, he looked at her face and then grabbed both her cheeks. Wilder kissed her on her lips before
she had the opportunity to say anything to him again. When Celia pulled away, she licked her lips and smiled at him.
“You are a good person, Wilder. You are a good brother and you are a good man for taking care of my grandfather for so long.” She said and placed her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating and she smiled again. Her first instincts had been right. This was a man who she could get to know, spend her life with. This wasn’t a man she needed to be afraid of.
“Thank you Celia. You know, nobody has ever said that to me? Cowboys deserve some kindness and compliments too.” Wilder said and Celia burst into a laugh. She couldn’t help herself. Wilder was laughing too. They were sharing their first laugh as a couple and Celia knew that she had never been happier. Her grandfather was right, nobody around him understood Wilder Moore for the man he was. But she was determined to, he was right, even cowboys needed to be understood.
BOOK 2 : COWBOY TWIN’S ROMANCE (PART 1)
Ivy was sitting on the porch of her father’s pub, with her feet up on a stool and a file to her finger nails. It was blistering hot now by noon and the pub had just opened up. Being the only watering hole in the village, it was also where people came to get a mid-day snack or just meet up with friends.
She had nothing else to do but kill time. At twenty-one year’s old, Ivy had dropped out of college in North Carolina and returned to her home town to help her father with his business instead. Ever since her mother passed away, and she being the only child; she felt like she had a responsibility to care for her father. He was glad to have her back too, but she had always been the apple of his eye, the spoilt daddy’s daughter. So, he never entrusted her with any real work, and now instead of actually helping him set up the pub to open to customers, Ivy had nothing else to do but just sit around and file her nails.
“Daddy.” She called out to him, jumping off the chair on the porch and rushing inside. Her father was behind the bar, polishing the glasses.
“Can I help?” She asked him, pouting her lips. She had been back home from college for over two weeks now and he still hadn’t allowed her to do anything around the house or the pub.
“I don’t need any help here, Ivy. Why don’t you go see what your friends are up to?” Her father turned his kind gray eyes to her. Ivy shrugged her shoulders and sighed.
“What friends? I don’t have any friends here any-more. They’ve all left.” She said, following her father’s every movement with her large green eyes. Her father smacked his lips, and continued polishing the glasses.
“You shouldn’t have quit college, Ivy. Look, I’m fine here, I don’t need your help. You should have stayed on and made something of your life.” He said, shaking his head at her. Ivy sighed with a huff and turned from him.
There was some truth in what he was saying. The more-wise thing to do would have been to stick on in college and complete her Bachelor in Agricultural Science; but Ivy wasn’t interested in school. She had been pushing herself to do something that she didn’t want to do by staying on in college. Returning home to help her father was partially an excuse, because she also wanted to take some time off school to figure out what it was that she really wanted to do with her life.
It had been two weeks since, and she still had no clue.
Ivy walked up to the large ornate mirror behind the pub door to look at herself. Her blonde curls were in tight natural ringlets, and she had kept them loose around her face. Her eyes were large and green, and even without any makeup; Ivy’s cheeks were always a bright cherry red, just like the natural color of her lips.
She was full bodied, her breasts forming a high curve on her chest. She was small, but not petite and she always made an impression wherever she went. Heads always turned to look at her. Today she had chosen to wear a thin white dress, to combat the heat. The neckline plunged deep, revealing her cleavage. For shoes, she was in simple sandals. Ivy sighed as she ran her fingers through her curls and shook them out. What was she going to do with her days here?
None of her childhood friends were still around, they had all left town, moved to bigger cities, as had she initially. But college, academics, a traditional career, were not the things that Ivy was made for, and she couldn’t force herself to pursue them any-more.
She could hear her father tinkering about behind the bar, as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Her plump cheeks looked bright today, her lips were broad and pouty…Ivy Hart was concerned now that she was going to end up wasting her life away. Just like her mother had warned her against.
The thought of her mother made her turn to look at her father behind the bar again. She had never seen two people as much in love as her parents had been, and it immediately brought a smile to her face. But in a moment of desperate confession once, several years ago; her mother had told her that sometimes she felt trapped. Trapped by the love of her husband, and her own love for him. And it was that passion which had never allowed her to escape this place, leave and try and make a different life for herself. That she had always regretted not trying. But in most other moments, her mother was happy, in love and content.
But Ivy could never forget her mother’s confession about the dangers of falling in love with a small-town cowboy. That is who her father was, and that was the only life that Ivy knew. That was the life that she had tried so hard to get away from, by going to college but she couldn’t.
Something about this place, about this life had dragged her back. But she knew she had to find a way out, she needed to find her own passion in life and let that be the guiding light for a path out of this small sleepy desert town.
“Daddy, I need to find something to do.” She said, suddenly whipping around to her father again. He looked up from his polishing to raise an exhausted eyebrow at his daughter and sighed.
“There is nothing for you to do here, sweet child. You should have never come back. You should have stayed away from here, just like your mama told you to.” He said, and Ivy noticed the sadness in his eyes. She had no idea that her father knew about the things that her mother had confided in her.
Just as she was about to ask him about it, the doors of the pub creaked open.
Ivy and her father had both turned to the door in unison. The pub had barely been open for a few minutes, they weren’t expecting any customers to turn up this soon.
A man had walked in, his face was covered partially with a cowboy hat perched on his head, which he was slowly lowering. He walked stealthily, with purpose; and Ivy’s first instincts were to study him closely. In dark dusty jeans and a plaid shirt tucked in, the man had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Even in the dim light of the pub, Ivy was quick to notice the sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes as he turned to look at her, and then he looked away.
Ivy instinctually straightened her back. His hat was in his hands now as he slowly made his way to the bar counter, towards her father. She could see his back, as he walked away from her. This man was tall, at least a foot taller than her and he looked like he was made of pure hard muscle. His back was wide and held taut against the fabric of his shirt.
“Hugo Hart?” The man’s voice rang loud through the silence of the pub. It sent a shiver down Ivy’s spine. His voice was smooth and deep, and even though she couldn’t see his face now, Ivy couldn’t control her desperate need to look at him.
“That’s me. And you must be Leon Cooper.” Her father was smiling at the man, he had pasted the polite customer face on, which he reserved for the pub. Ivy’s brows crossed, her father knew everyone in these parts, how did he not know this man.
“What can I get you?” Her father asked him, placing his hands on the counter and still smiling at the man.
Ivy was standing behind them, still several feet away from them, wringing her hands with desperation. She wanted to draw closer to him, she wanted to see his face, it was like an itching need all over her body to steal a look at him. She had no control over her brain any more.
“Oh, thank you but I don’t d
rink.” The man said, in that same calm deep voice, that made Ivy’s fingers tingle. Who was this man? What was he doing here? Which man in these parts didn’t drink alcohol?
“I see, what can I do you for then?” Her father asked him, the smile dropping slightly from his face. Nobody came into the pub for anything other than to get something to drink or eat, but this man seemed to be on a different kind of business. And Ivy’s father seemed just as confused as she was.
“I was hoping that you would help me spread the word locally, before I advertise in the newspaper.” The man said. He didn’t sound friendly, or even like he was comfortable speaking to her father. He sounded angry, arrogant and self-confident. But Ivy was still desperate to see his face. Just watching him standing in front of her, just tracing out the muscles on his back with her eyes, on the back of his legs…were enough to set her body on fire.
“Sure, what is it?” Her father leaned on the counter closer to him.
“I need somebody to take care of my house.” The man said. Ivy licked her lips, her heart was pounding against her chest.
“Is that so?” She heard her father say.
“I live alone, as you must have heard and I have an entire ranch to work with. I just moved there a few weeks ago. I need a woman to do the cooking and cleaning and laundry.” He continued. Ivy was still wringing her hands together tightly. She felt like she was going to burst, that she might faint if she didn’t say something now, if he didn’t turn to look at her now.
“I can do that, I’ll spread the word.” Her father replied to the man with a smile.
“I would prefer a strong, healthy woman who won’t mind getting her hands dirty. Maybe help me with the ranch too if needed. I am willing to provide lodgings, three meals a day and five hundred dollars a month.” The man continued and flipped his hat on his head again. This was a sign that he was going to leave, and Ivy couldn’t control herself any more.