Dearest Cowboys Box Set

by Mia Brown

  Ace picked up his pace, straightening up with his hands on my hips again. He kept me in position and started fucking me hard, ramming in and out of me. His balls slapped against my clit, and I cried out, my moans in harmony with his grunts and groans.

  His strokes shortened, and he pumped into me even faster before he pushed into me as deep as he could go and emptied himself inside of me.

  We both breathed hard, and I shivered, echoes of my orgasm coming back. When Ace was done, he pulled out of me and sat back. I collapsed on the bed, my arms and legs numb, body pent.

  “You’re fantastic,” Ace said.

  “Right back at ya,” I replied. He smiled. He crawled forward, lying down on the bed next to me, and the two of us were squashed together on the narrow bunkhouse bed. But it was okay; I wasn’t too worried about being pressed up against him.

  When I looked up at his face, Ace’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep. The alcohol had gotten the better of him. There would be no spooning and cuddling tonight, but maybe I was better that way. It would make him seem like less of a man that I could fall for.

  I closed my eyes and let sleep drag me under, too, trying to focus on the feeling between my legs and not the hollow feeling in my chest.

  Thirteen

  Ace

  When I opened my eyes, light pierced my skull, and I groaned. My head throbbed dully, a reminder of how much I’d been drinking. I did a quick internal check—the upside was that my stomach wasn’t turning, yet, and I didn’t seem to have any injuries I could tell right away.

  I hated drunk nights like last night when I wasn’t sure of what had happened.

  I lifted my head and looked around. I was on the floor, my legs half under a bed, and I realized I was in the bunkhouse. And I was naked. The night before rushed back to me, and I remembered all of it. Alcohol, music, dancing, and Vanessa at the center of it all. And then we’d come back to the ranch, and she’d kissed me. The rest had all been me, but God, what a night.

  Vanessa was the kind of woman that stood out among the rest. I tried to get out from underneath the bed. I must have fallen off when I’d been asleep because the damn beds here were too narrow for two people to sleep together. We had set it up that way on purpose. The place was for men and women alike so they could do whatever they wanted, but we tried to limit things a little.

  Well, I had firsthand experience of how successful that was.

  Vanessa was on the bed, still. I could hear her moving around, the springs creaking lightly. Nothing like what they’d done last night when we’d rocked the bed together. I was impressed that the bed had held up as well as it had. Last night had been a little rougher than I’d expected. It was because of Vanessa. Everything about her had made me fucking urgent to get inside of her.

  I was happy that we’d gotten this far, that she’d made that move. When she’d pushed me aside the last time, I’d figured she didn’t want me. I hadn’t understood it because everyone wanted me—but I’d told myself I wouldn’t chase her. Chasing was the one thing I didn’t do.

  And I hadn’t needed to. She had come to me as I’d hoped she would.

  She sighed and rolled over on the bed above me, her blonde hair hanging over the edge before her face appeared. She blinked sleepily at me.

  “What are you doing on the floor?” she asked.

  I cupped my dick. We had done everything last night, but I didn’t want to be gross this morning. The moment I did, Vanessa’s eyes widened and that look—I knew that look too well. It was a look that said, “Oh, shit, what did I do,” and it was the one look you didn’t want to see on a woman’s face the next morning.

  It said something that I’d seen that look as many times as I had, but let’s face it—I wasn’t the kind of guy women hesitated with. I didn’t know what it was that they found so damn attractive, and most of the time it was a huge confidence boost for me. But when I got that look, I hated that they hadn’t thought it through before getting into bed with me.

  Hell, I never thought anything through. Except for this time. This time, I may have considered Vanessa and felt a lot more strongly about sleeping with her than with anyone before. And now she was regretting it, big time. It was written all over her face. It was easy to feel rejected when you got that look. Usually, it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t the type of man that wanted to phone them after doing the dirty. If they didn’t want me to, it was that much better. But with Vanessa, it was a different story.

  Not only did I want her to be okay with what happened, but I would see her a lot. We ran into each other all the time on the ranch, for God’s sake. And it wasn’t only that, either. I wanted her to like what we’d done. I wanted her to consider doing it again.

  What the fuck was going on? I didn’t usually feel like this about women; I never fucked them twice. But Vanessa wasn’t like the others, and I found myself wanting more of her. But with that look on her face and the way she’d just rolled away from the edge of the bed so I couldn’t see her, I was sure she didn’t feel the same about it. There was no hope of having anything more with her.

  Was that what I’d wanted? Seemed liked on some level, it was. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t have the time to figure it out now, either. All I knew was that I had to cover up to stop things from getting worse than they already were, and then have a chat.

  I looked around on the floor and spotted my boxers and jeans in a pile where I’d left them. I reached over and pulled them closer, pulling them on without standing up. I didn’t want to cause Vanessa embarrassment.

  When I was dressed, I sat up. She was on the bed, sheets clutched around her body, and if it weren’t for the distressed look on her face, I would have taken the time to admire the sheer beauty that sat before me. She looked like a goddess with her messy blonde hair and the white sheet clutched against her caramel skin. Beautiful, sexy as fuck. God, I wanted her all over again.

  “Okay if I sit on the bed with you?” I asked.

  She nodded. I got up from the floor—I guess I’d been in worse places before—and sat down on the mattress close to the foot of the bed so I didn’t crowd her. Who said I couldn’t be considerate?

  “So, I think we should talk about this,” I said. “Nothing worse than walking away without straightening it out.”

  She nodded. “Do you have these conversations often?”

  I sighed. This had something to do with my reputation, didn’t it? I had always known somewhere in the back of my mind that it would catch up with me. Back then, I hadn’t given a shit because I had promised myself that my life at the University of Texas wouldn’t follow me wherever I decided to go next. Well, big surprise. It had followed me home.

  “I just want to make sure you’re okay. We were both consenting adults last night, so let’s be adults today.”

  She snorted. “That’s a very mature line,” she said, and I wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic. If she was, it was a bitch move, but maybe she felt more trapped and flustered than she let on. Hungover me was a lot nicer than sober me usually was about this. That, or I liked her more than I’d liked the average woman I’d screwed.

  “Where do you want to go from here?” I asked. “What’s the next step?”

  She blinked at me. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, and it stung a little. I’d hoped that she wouldn’t be this bewildered about the idea that she’d slept with me.

  “I guess we could pretend it never happened,” I said. I kept my voice level. “Chalk it up to alcohol and all that. I did have too much to drink last night.”

  Her face changed. Was it relief? “I think that’s a good idea,” she said.

  I nodded. Right. This was how we were going to play it. Why did it hurt so much more than it had before? It wasn’t like I cared. Was it? I knew I wasn’t boyfriend material. I was a dick on a good day, selfish and arrogant. I knew I had everything it took to get a woman in my bed, and I looked at every woman that crossed my path, wondering what it would mean to
fuck her. I wasn’t a good guy. But somehow, I had hoped it would be different with Vanessa. Throwing the word “boyfriend” around was a big deal, but I had hoped for something more.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Really?” she asked, and I looked at her. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her face was a mixture of relief and uncertainty. None of it was satisfaction or the afterglow of a great night of sex, so whatever it was she felt, it wasn’t what it should have been.

  Oh well, it didn’t matter.

  “Really,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower. I’m sure I stink like old alcohol.”

  She nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

  I didn’t ask her what she was thanking me for. I knew she wouldn’t thank me for the great night we’d had together so whatever else it was would probably be a slap in the face, and I wasn’t in the mood for that. She sat with her knees to her chest, her arms folded, and her chin leaning on her arms. I leaned across and dropped a kiss on her head.

  “I’ll see you around,” I said, and got up. At the door to the bunkhouse, I picked up my shirt. It reeked of beer—had that been me?—so I didn’t pull it over my head. I slung it over my shoulder and walked to the main house.

  Andrew sat on the porch with a cup of coffee, and he looked as rough as I felt. Seeing that he was here and not still in some dame’s bed, I was willing to bet he hadn’t gotten any of what I’d had last night—not the mind-blowing sex or the backhand in the morning.

  “Is your room getting too boring without a woman in it?” Andrew asked when I stepped onto the porch. He didn’t look or sound very friendly. He was bitter, for some reason. He wasn’t joking with me.

  I flipped him off and walked inside. When and who I fucked was none of his business.

  Inside, I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot Andrew had put on. My mom was at church already—she was the only one of us that still attended—and I wouldn’t have to explain my night in the bunkhouse to her, too. It shortened my walk of shame, and I was grateful. I didn’t give a shit what Andrew thought of me, but my mom’s opinion was a different story.

  Especially with how sick she was. I didn’t want her last opinion of me to be a bad one.

  I got into the shower and stood there, letting the hot water cascade over my back and shoulders until it ran cold. It had done nothing, not for my headache or my hurt pride. I toweled off and got dressed, ate a piece of dry toast to settle my stomach that had started turning in memory of last night’s alcohol, and headed out to get to work.

  I needed to clean out the stalls in the barn. There was nothing as humbling as clearing out the dirty hay and replacing it with clean piles, but shoveling shit seemed so apt today. Besides, hard work was exactly what I needed to get rid of the feelings I couldn’t explain and the thoughts that wouldn’t stop haunting me.

  There was nothing as therapeutic as working myself to death.

  Fourteen

  Vanessa

  I was avoiding him like a child who had done something wrong. I hated that I felt that way—we were both grown-ups, for God’s sake! But I felt ashamed about what I’d done.

  Not the sex we’d had, of course. That had been fantastic. I felt bad about what I’d said this morning, that I’d wanted to chalk it up to alcohol. Even though I’d volunteered to be designated driver and everyone—including Ace—had known I’d only had one drink.

  How badly that must have come across. He must have thought I had a terrible time and was making excuses.

  The truth was, I was making excuses. But not for the time I’d had. Sex with Ace had been the best thing I’d ever had. I’d been with men before, but with him, it had been unforgettable. I had loved being the center of attention the way he’d made me feel. I’d felt like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and that sex with me was what he’d worked toward his whole life.

  He probably made every woman he was with feel that way. He was charming enough and attractive enough to pull that off. And that was exactly what I feared. I would let him have his way with me a million times over if it wasn’t for what his past was like, but I was worried about his reputation. When he looked at me, I couldn’t help but wonder who else he’d looked at that way, if he’d practiced it so many times that it came naturally or if it was genuine. I felt like I could think of all the other women that had done exactly what I’d done with him and somehow, I would be found wanting.

  I knew it wasn’t fair of me to do that—even with the few men I’d slept with I could compare them all—but Ace was a womanizer. He was the type of man that went out of his way to be satisfied, and I didn’t know if it was an act of selfishness last night, or if he’d really wanted me as much as I’d wanted him. And if I did it all with him again, I was scared I would start to think more of it, and of him, and I would get hurt.

  That was what I feared the most. Getting hurt. I couldn’t play that game; I couldn’t afford to put my heart on the line when everything else in my life was such a big question mark. I had no idea how long I would work at the ranch, how long I had left with Jaclyn in my life at all or how I would be able to stay friends with Alana after I left.

  God, how would I be able to be friends with her now? I knew she had a crush on Ace—or at least, I guessed at it—and I had slept with him. But so had a million other women. Surely, she knew that?

  I didn’t know what to think anymore. All I knew was that I had to protect myself, and saying what I had this morning about chalking it up to alcohol had been the only way I’d known how.

  As far as I knew, the job here on the ranch was only until the end of summer. That was how long Ace had told me they needed help for. In the fall they wrapped it all up, he’d explained, and in winter everything came to a standstill, and even the help that came in from Odessa only helped a few days a week. By then, I would be out of here, and then, where would I be? And after everything, after I left and life went back to what it used to be without me here at the ranch, I wasn’t sure if Ace would care at all.

  After I’d showered, dried my hair, and dressed, I’d gone to check on Cookie. Ace had been in there so I’d turned around and walked away, hoping that someone else would give her a bottle. Ace hadn’t seen me, luckily. I had taken care of a few other chores while Jaclyn was at church, cleaned the bunkhouse from top to bottom to keep busy and away from anywhere Ace might be.

  Finally, when it was time to meet Jaclyn for our afternoon work, I walked to the main house. She was already in the kitchen when I walked in, and she looked up at me, smiling. She looked better than she had the last while, and I was relieved. Hopefully, it had just been a bad spell, a scare.

  “There you are,” she said, smiling. She had packed containers on the kitchen table, and she had a large pot on the stove. “I’m about to start canning. You’re right on time.”

  She ran through the process with me again. It was different now that it was all in front of my face, and I nodded, taking note of the steps.

  “This is one of our biggest sources of income,” she said. “We can plant tomatoes year-round, even when the cows aren’t calving, or we’re waiting for the winter to pass to plant more crops. Tomatoes pull us through all year-round, so I try to keep ahead of our schedule.”

  I sat down at the table. “What do you need me to do?”

  “For now, I need you to write down what I’m doing in those books so we can keep track.”

  I looked at the books, and she explained her columns to me.

  “Then, I need you to fill up these cans for me one by one. Not all the way to the top, about half an inch down. I’ll do the next step.”

  I nodded, and we got to work. While we worked, we talked. Jaclyn told stories about the boys and how they grew up on the farm. She reminisced, and from her words, I could tell what a happy time it must have been. Their father had been a great man, she explained, and he had made this ranch into what it was today.

  “It’s special to have a place like this passed along from one generati
on to the next,” I said.

  Jaclyn nodded. “It is. When I married Harry, I thought it was a dream. This had become my home so quickly I can’t even imagine what my life would have been like if I’d decided not to go out with him. I’d had my doubts, you know. Harry was a bit of a ladies’ man.”

  That made me think of Ace. Apparently, that went from father to son, too.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I wanted her to elaborate.

  Jaclyn laughed. “Oh, at first I didn’t think he was the man for me at all. I was sure everything he said to me was a line. He was so poetic it was almost a crime. But I couldn’t help falling in love with him, and sometimes you must take that chance. I’m glad I did. I’m here, now.”

  I nodded. “You must miss him.”

  “Every day,” Jaclyn sighed. “But even if I’d known I would lose him early and my life would become what it is now, I would still have done it. I was so happy with him, and I have that to hold onto for the rest of my life, however long that may be.”

  I didn’t want her to talk like that. I didn’t want to think that just as I’d found someone I could care for like a mother, I would lose her again.

  “The boys were lucky to have such a good father,” Jaclyn carried on. “He was hard on them, but once they were done with their chores, he let them go out and play, and they had so much fun. Alana and Lance—you met him last night, I think—were always here and they were like my children, too. There was a time that we all thought Alana and Ace would be more, but he’s so stubborn.”

  She laughed, and I did, too. So, I wasn’t the only one that had noticed Alana’s crush on Ace. I wondered if Jaclyn knew about Andrew’s feelings for Alana. I wanted to ask, but Jaclyn started coughing.

  It started off normal, but her coughing soon turned into something more serious. She doubled over, her frail body looking like it was going to break, and her cough rasped in her throat. I jumped up and walked to her.