Cowboy Payback

by Donna Michaels

  Where is he now?

  Curious to find the answer, she slipped out of bed and glanced around. He didn’t leave a note. Figures. Why did men think women could read their minds? Okay, yeah, sometimes guys were on open book, like when it came to sex.

  Her body did that stupid heating thing low in the belly again. She grabbed clean clothes from where she’d hung them in the closet last night, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. A cold one. Since she had no idea where Captain Brennan was, what he was doing, or when he’d return, she made haste.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was dressed in jeans and a tan T-shirt, hair braided down her back, and her favorite cowboy boots hugging her feet like an old pair of slippers.

  When the rumbling of her empty stomach echoed loud enough to hear over the soft hum of the air conditioner, Trisha contemplated heading to the guest ranch in search of a Bugsby breakfast. If last night’s entrée was anything to go by, then she was sure to be satisfied by whatever the chef prepared in the mornings. But she didn’t know if the captain had eaten in the dining hall and made some sort of excuse for her absence. She didn’t want to make him look bad.

  Why should she care?

  Sexy, darn…marine.

  It was his fault she had no clue what was going on today. She had intended to ask him what their game plan was last night, but no. His nearly naked body and…and tented boxers had all her nerve endings quivering and mind fogging. Then he tossed out that tempting invitation, and those darn words had knocked what remained of her thought process into next week.

  Arousal had fluttered to life, like now, reminding her how it felt to want a man. Funny, she didn’t remember the ache feeling so strong.

  With a shake of her head and a huff of disgust, she swiped a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter and proceeded to peel the skin. Of its own accord, her gaze wandered to the night stand. She was not going to think about the box of large condoms or the fact the size hadn’t been a joke. Last night’s tenting proved the captain had the correct proportion…

  She groaned. Darn it. She should not be thinking those thoughts about her commanding officer.

  Too late. She was thinking those thoughts, eating her banana, and cursing her captain for causing the deep need. The situation was stupid. She was acting stupid.

  Well, no more.

  She came to Royal Pines to relax and enjoy herself, and that was exactly what she planned to do.

  Starting right now.

  Trisha tossed the banana peel in the garbage and strode out the door.

  Since she had no idea where the captain was, she decided to worry about herself and concentrate on her own agenda. First thing on the list was to apologize to Mrs. Brennan and Terry for dragging them into her mess. Turning her back to the guest ranch, she headed east along the dirt road that led in the direction of the stables and main house she’d visited two months ago. Her inner GPS confirmed the location.

  Wildflowers colored the land and jutted out of the grass, framing the sides of the road in a burst of blues and yellows. Trisha picked several as she walked, her fingers twisting the stems together in an attempt to fashion a bracelet like the ones she’d often made in her youth.

  The abundance of flowers and length of the walk had her creation growing from bracelet to necklace. With a smile tugging her lips, she proudly placed the flower ring over her head, mindful of her braid, then continued to head to the stables now visible in the distance.

  Puffy, cotton-ball clouds, moving slowly with the slight breeze, dotted the vivid, blue sky overhead. The air was already hot, despite the midmorning hour, but Trisha lifted her face toward the sun and enjoyed the feel of the rays beating down on her skin. There was nothing like a natural dose of vitamin D on a leisurely stroll in the country.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled the sweet smell of pine and listened to the wind rustling through the trees and the soft sound of hooves pounding the earth. Heaven. This was what she needed. Calm. Serene. Quiet.

  “Where are you going?”

  Halting, she opened her eyes with a start and twisted around to watch the captain approach on a magnificent palomino. The horse’s golden coat, blond mane and tail, and big brown eyes were striking.

  “What a beauty,” she said, standing still with her hand out, pleased when the horse moved close to catch her scent. When he nuzzled her palm, she smiled and stoked his broad nose. “You are a big one, aren’t you, boy?” She glanced up at the captain. “What is he? Seventeen hands, sir?”

  Shock raised his brow as he nodded. “Yes.”

  She laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I’ve been around horses most of my life. And to answer your question, I’m heading to see your mother.”

  “Uh, Corporal,” he said, dismounting, gaze suddenly cautious and a bit anxious. “How do you feel about spiders?”

  Spiders? Eww.

  She shivered. Just hearing the word gave her the creeps.

  “I hate them. With a passion.” She shivered again, her heart growing heavy and pounding hard in her chest as he continued to step closer.

  “Then don’t move.”

  For him to say that and come closer…that meant…

  Ohmygod…ohmygod…oh my God!

  Before she could completely panic, she watched his large hand reach up and flick something off her right shoulder.

  Then she panicked.

  In one swift move, she ripped off her T-shirt along with the floral necklace, threw them in the dirt, then scrambled several feet away. “Is it off? Are there any more? If there are, get them off me, sir,” she pleaded, glancing at her body, rubbing her hands over her skin now crawling with imaginary critters.

  “Hey, hey…calm down, Corporal. It’s okay. It’s gone.” He grasped her shoulders and forced her to stare at him. “You’re fine.”

  Fine? Hell no, she wasn’t fine. She was far from fine. “A spider was just on me. And who knows for how long? I made that necklace a while ago. It could’ve laid eggs, or built a web. Oh my God…did it?” She tried to twist around, but he held tight.

  “No. You’re fine,” he repeated, hands squeezing her bare shoulders. “I knocked it off, remember?”

  That’s right. He knocked it off. Which meant it was on the ground. But so were her feet. Lunging at the nearest thing, she climbed off the ground, then heaved a sigh.

  She was safe.

  “Ah…Corporal? What the hell are you doing on my back?”

  “Keeping off the ground, sir,” she replied without missing a beat. So, she was on his back. There was no room in her panicked brain to worry about embarrassment.

  “And choking me,” he said, voice strained, throat working against her arm hugging him tight.

  She loosened her hold. “Sorry, sir.”

  “You need to get down.”

  “No. I’m good.”

  He chuckled. “You’re also shirtless and clinging to my back.”

  She glanced down at her chest. Shoot. She’d forgotten that part. Still…“Yeah, but I’m also spiderless, so it’s all good.”

  In a few, economical movements, the captain twisted her around until she was clinging to the front of him like a pretzel.

  “Not that I don’t like the view, because believe me, I really, really do like the view,” he said, glancing down at her breasts spilling out of her lilac lace bra. “But you should probably do something about it.”

  With her whole body suddenly aware of every hard inch of the man, Trisha unhooked her ankles from behind his back, and slowly slid her feet to the ground, her body brushing incredible, rigid, tight muscles along the way.

  Muttering an oath, her C.O. tightened his grip around her waist, but didn’t release her. “You can’t stay out here shirtless.”

  Talking her legs into not buckling, she pushed out of his arms then took a shaky step backward. Her chin rose despite the heat in her cheeks. “It’s still better than wearing that spider-infested shirt.”

  “I disagree. You can’t
stand here like that,” he repeated as he scooped up her top, shook it out, then handed it to her.

  Trisha backed up, shaking her head. “No way, sir. I’m never wearing that again.”

  “Dammit, Corporal, you’ve faced down insurgents, defused bombs, rushed into abandoned buildings not knowing if the enemy was inside…and never batted an eyelash. How the hell can you be so freaked out over such a little pest?”

  “Little? That thing was huge…and on me…crawling a-and on me and…and who knows what?” Her voice rose along with her pulse and anxiety level. Thanks to her brothers terrorizing her when she was a kid with fake ones, and dropping a few real ones on her. She was a no-spider zone.

  “You can’t go around without your shirt.”

  “Yes, I can. We’ve parted ways. We’re history,” she insisted, backing up until she felt the warm pelt of a horse on her back.

  The captain’s gaze dropped to her chest, and she watched as he struggled to draw in a breath. Her skin tingled and nipples peaked, begging for his touch.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll go back and get another one.”

  “Hell no, you’re not.” His voice came out rough and deliciously low; aggravation and heat smoldered in his eyes. “You can’t walk back to the cabin like that. Someone might see you. Here, take mine.”

  Before she could reply, protest…suck in much needed air…he ripped his navy T-shirt over his head and shoved it in her hands.

  “Put it on.” When she hesitated, he added a stern, “Now.”

  “Okay.” Jeez, he was darn bossy. Shrugging into the over-sized shirt, Trisha inhaled. The scent of soap, mountain air, and heated male surrounded her in an envelope of sensual warmth.

  She hoped the tremor racing down her body went unnoticed under the bulk of material. And because she was nervous and stupid and it had been too long since she’d spoken, she twisted around with her hands out and asked, “Better?”

  He let out a breath and chuckled. “Looks better on you than it does on me.”

  His unexpected compliment made her smile, and heat up from the inside out. Or maybe that was from gazing at his now shirtless form. Liquid warmth spread through her body and grew hotter as she settled her gaze on his naked pecs, then traveled a dangerous path down his rigid abs, and followed the happy trail until the waistband of his jeans stopped her view.

  He stepped back. “I’d better go. I have a few things I need to do before the guests arrive tomorrow.” Swinging his large frame effortlessly into the saddle, he stared down at her. “Bugsby told me he has something special planned for us tonight in the dining hall at six thirty, and not to be late. I tried to get out of it, but couldn’t. So, if I don’t see you sooner, then I’ll meet you there.”

  Before she could mutter a syllable, he twisted his mount around and rode off. Galloped away. Left her standing in the middle of the dirt road, mesmerized by the muscles in his back rippling in tandem with his horse as the two magnificent males raced across the field.

  Once she picked her tongue up off the ground, Trisha heaved a heavy sigh. The image of the sexy cowboy half-naked on the horse was going to stay with her forever.

  And it did.

  An hour later, her mind still held the glorious image as she sat across from his mother, sharing a pitcher of iced tea on the woman’s deck.

  “Thank you for the drink, and for being so understanding about this mess I’ve made with my parents.”

  “Oh, it’s okay, dear. Sometimes, our expectations don’t match our children’s, and it takes a shake up to bring it to light.”

  She nodded to the pretty woman with dark hair and blue eyes, and who looked more like her C.O.’s older sister than mother. “Well, the capt…I mean, your son and I have talked, and we’ve decided to wait until after my parents visit before we shake things up. I hope that’s okay?”

  “Of course. I’d actually love for you to stay the whole summer,” her hostess added with a soft pat to the back of Trisha’s hand. “One thing I’ve learned from having Cammie around, it’s nice to not be so out-numbered by testosterone.”

  She chuckled. “I can see where that would be a problem.” At times, her captain had enough to supply a whole platoon. Toss in his equally alpha twin brother, and they might as well change the name of the ranch to Royal Pains.

  “I’m hoping once Cammie comes back next week, the three of us could have a girls’ night, or something.”

  “I’d like that.” She smiled. “I haven’t done anything like that since college.”

  “And I haven’t done it, well, ever.” Mrs. Brennan laughed, then sobered. “I’m really glad you’re here, Trisha.”

  Her heart swelled, and eyes teared at the honesty in the woman’s heartfelt words. “Me, too, Mrs. Brennan. Me, too.”

  It had been far too long since her presence was desired for friendship instead of duty, safety, to fill a roster, or a dinner table at one of her father’s many functions. It was high time she got back in touch with her needs, and at that moment, Trisha was glad she’d uttered Captain Brennan’s name to her parents a few days ago. Not because she needed him, but because she needed his home for some quality me time.

  ****

  After spending half the day trying to rid his mind of the image of Trisha standing in the field shirtless, her gorgeous, full breasts standing at attention behind that lacey purple bra, Brett somehow managed to finalize plans for tomorrow’s guests, and was now getting ready to meet the corporal for dinner. Thank the stars and stripes she’d been gone by the time he’d entered the cabin. The woman was becoming too tempting.

  As he finished his shower, his mind wandered—without permission—back to the field, and his body remembered how the woman felt clinging to him, all soft and curvy. Too bad he hadn’t been shirtless then, too. Instinct told him skin-on-skin contact would’ve been memorable.

  Damn.

  He gave himself a mental shake and once again, reminded himself Corporal Jennings was one of his own. His body had no right responding to her generous figure.

  A brisk drying off got his mind back to the plan. Pretending to be her fiancé in public was fine, but when they were alone, he’d drop back to Captain/Corporal mode. No room for deviation.

  Feeling better and more in control, he donned one of the few pairs of dress pants and button-down shirts he owned. He was a jeans and T-shirt type of guy. No need to get fancy on the ranch. But tonight was an exception.

  Stetson on his head, he strode out of the cabin and across the drive, picking a few spiderless wild flowers growing near the porch, knowing better than to show up empty handed. His momma had raised him better.

  With smile in place, he entered the lobby and stopped dead.

  Holy hell…ooo.

  Thumping a loud cadence, his heart jumped into his rapidly drying throat as he gazed at his stunning fake fiancée. The corporal was chatting with Mrs. Laramie and Stacy, the activity director, at the front desk, looking like…like…Damn. The woman was a grade A knockout. How did this happen? Hell. When did this happen?

  He’d never seen the morale officer with her hair loose before. He had no idea it was long enough to fall halfway down her back. Or that her blue eyes popped with all those auburn waves surrounding her delicate face.

  And her outfit. Hot damn. Brett decided then and there it had been created to drive him mad. Stark raving mad. The silky material, in cobalt blue, clung in all the right places with a fantastic dip in the neckline, showcasing her mouthwatering chest.

  The dress designer had to have been a man. That view was exactly what a red-blooded male dreamt about. Just enough creamy, rounded skin and beckoning valley showed to capture and hold a man’s attention. Not the blatant display of nudity some of the newer styles revealed. A guy, at least this guy, preferred an outfit that hinted at the wonderland hidden under the garment.

  And from what he could see from the sexy dress gracing her curves, Corporal Jennings had a hell of a wonderland. Her earlier shirtless form flashed through
his mind, and his lower body promptly tightened.

  So much for not deviating.

  Catching sight of him, she straightened and smiled. Now his ears were ringing, and he had no idea how the hell to answer them. Somehow managing another smile, he raised the hand with the flowers, but that was all his muddled brain would allow.

  Shit. She was walking to him, the silky material teasing as it hit her curves, then released them, making him want to rip the dress off so he could get a complete view of the treasures hidden beneath.

  Correction. The dress had to have been designed by a woman. A vixen. Evil…and wicked…

  “Thank you,” she said, heart-stopping smile still tugging her glossy lips.

  He continued to grin, but had no idea why the woman was thanking him, until she reached for his hand and the flowers bending in his tight grasp.

  Idiot.

  Brett released the bunch, a little worse for wear, and wondered what the hell was wrong with him? He’d been out with plenty of beautiful women before. He was a react-to-the-attraction kind of guy. Made it perfectly clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and had no problem sticking to a two date rule.

  The unsettling feelings the corporal caused were completely new. And unwelcome.

  If this was how Finn felt with Cammie, then Brett had a new appreciation for his brother’s strength.

  With the silence turning awkward, and knowing they were the center of attention from his nearby staff, Brett offered his elbow. Relief flooded his veins when the bombshell slipped her arm through his without waiting for him to reply. His tongue was so swollen it stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t talk if his life had depended on it.

  Not good. This ruffled, chaotic thought process was annoying as hell and too far out of character to be adaptable. Something had to give.

  Smile still on his face, he started to lead her toward the dining hall and instantly realized he had another problem. His tongue was not the only part of his anatomy that was swollen.

  Chapter Six