The Bull Rider's Valentine

by Cathy McDavid

  Her emotions high, she went looking for Nate, wanting to share her good fortune with him. She located him at the bar, talking to a group of attractive cowgirls. They were clearly infatuated with him, smiling prettily and finding reasons to touch his hand or arm.

  Ronnie tried not to be jealous. She had no claim on Nate despite the kisses they’d shared. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to discourage him. She should have expected something like this.

  He noticed her at the same moment she decided to leave, and his expression brightened. Saying something she couldn’t hear, he abandoned the cowgirls and came toward her.

  “Did I interrupt?” Ronnie asked, trying to tamp down her sarcasm.

  “Wish I could stay, but duty calls.” With a quick goodbye and see you later, he headed outside.

  No hug? Well, she had warned him.

  Ronnie assured herself she wasn’t bothered by his abrupt departure or the gaggle of cowgirls. From then on, she managed only glimpses of him. When her family returned for the bull riding, she postponed going home and joined them in the stands.

  There was no mishap at the bucking chutes like before or any other calamity to send her hurrying to Nate’s side. About as many people showed up as the previous evening, some new, some repeats. Ronnie had heard Bess was anticipating an increase in attendance as time went on. Ronnie hoped so, too, what with her, Nate and Bess all standing to benefit.

  There was no reason for her to remain and talk to Nate when the bull riding ended. She’d congratulated him on the event last night. But her spirits still soared from her potential good news, and she wanted to tell him. What harm was there in that?

  “Did he go home?” she asked one of The Small Change hands after scouring the entire premises twice.

  “No idea.”

  The guy was obviously more interested in his neighbor on the next bar stool over, a saucy looking woman in tight jeans and definitely not from Mustang Valley.

  Disheartened, Ronnie opted to leave. It was late. Her family had long gone. She had a lot to do the following day and needed her sleep. Besides, it was entirely possible Nate hadn’t left alone.

  At the first intersection, she stopped, letting her truck idle. To the left was home. To the right, The Small Change ranch and Nate. Drawing in a deep breath, she swung the steering wheel to the right.

  Chapter Ten

  Sliding out of her truck, Ronnie slammed the door shut behind her. The sound was unnaturally loud in the dark, eerie stillness of the ranch.

  Had she ever been here this late at night before? A few times as a child, when her father had had an emergency and she and her sisters had been too young to stay home by themselves.

  She’d been spooked back then, too, seeing the ranch cloaked in shadows rather than bathed in sunlight. In the distance, owls hooted, dogs barked and horses shifted in their stalls. At a coyote’s high-pitched yipping, Ronnie’s skin prickled. Silly, of course. She heard coyotes all the time.

  Must be her elevated emotions making her edgy. But now that she’d left the bar and the music and the noisy, excited crowd, second thoughts assailed her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked on a whisper. “Are you crazy?”

  There was no chance Nate would interpret her appearance at his trailer as anything other than a wish on her part to take their relationship to the next level, whatever that might be. Hanging out. Dating. Commitment.

  Was that what she wanted? If not, she should hightail it out of here this very moment before he saw her. He must have heard her truck approach and possibly spotted the headlights from his window.

  His curtained window, she noted. And though a low light burned from within, there’d been no sign of movement. Perhaps he wasn’t home. He could be out with one of the cowgirls from the bar. Or, she could be inside with him, the two of them buried beneath the covers.

  The jealousy from earlier returned, coiling around her chest and squeezing.

  “This is stupid,” she hissed. “You’re acting like a child.”

  She jerked when the door to the trailer’s living quarters opened.

  “Ronnie?”

  A flashlight beam climbed her body to her face, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

  “Did I wake you?” she asked in a squeaky voice.

  “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

  Was he alone? She squinted and tried to see past him and inside.

  “I, ah...”

  Great. What had struck her as a good idea twenty minutes ago now seemed pathetic and immature. What was she? A stalker? A Peeping Tom?

  “I looked for you earlier,” she finally said, glad the squeak was gone. “At the Poco Dinero. You’d left.”

  “I figured I’d check on Theo after his fall.” Nate lowered the flashlight. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I... I... You’d left,” she repeated her same feeble statement.

  As her eyes adjusted, the details came slowly into focus. Nate wore jeans and a western-cut shirt. No boots, no socks, no belt. The shirt was unbuttoned and hung open, revealing a good portion of his chest. His well-toned chest, she might add.

  Wasn’t he cold? Evidently not, for he leaned a shoulder against the door frame in a classically sexy pose that was very much Nate. The old Nate, at least. Easy, confident and amused rather than frustrated and disappointed with the world around him. The Nate she’d fallen in love with and might have spent her life with if unfortunate circumstances and bad decision making hadn’t conspired against them.

  He didn’t invite her inside, she noticed. Maybe there really was a woman in there with him!

  “How is Theo?” Ronnie asked. “Any better?”

  Why wasn’t she leaving? Had she lost every bit of her good sense?

  “He’s sporting a bruised right arm and a sprained ankle. Reese is worried, but Theo refuses to see his doctor or go to the emergency medical clinic tomorrow. He insists it’s nothing.”

  “What do you think?”

  “He’s a tough old guy. The injuries won’t kill him, but he could probably use some prescription pain relievers and maybe an X-ray of the ankle just to be on the safe side.”

  Ronnie nodded, and an awkward silence fell between them like heavy fog.

  “Well, I suppose—”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish, a melodic ding interrupting her.

  “Wait here.” He disappeared inside. A moment passed and he returned, his cell phone in his hand. Finishing typing, he set the phone on the counter beside him. The bemused expression he’d been wearing had vanished.

  “What’s wrong?” Only when the question was out did she remember Nate’s business was none of hers.

  “That was my mom.” He resumed leaning on the doorjamb. “She called before you got here and apparently forgot to tell me something.”

  “Ah.” Refusing to let another awkward silence engulf them, she said, “All good, I hope?”

  “Other than her fighting off the flu.” He shifted, adjusting his weight. “I told her about us.”

  “Us?” Is there an us? That and a hundred other questions sprang to mind. Ronnie couldn’t sort through them fast enough.

  “I said we were working together.”

  “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

  The bemusement was back in his eyes. He’d known what she was thinking. As usual. She really should work on being less predictable.

  “Mom still feels terrible about what she said that night in the hospital and for the problems she caused us.”

  “It was hardly her fault and not the reason I left. You did tell her that, yes?”

  He lifted a shoulder.

  “Nate,” Ronnie said with exasperation. “She was upset. We were all upset.”

  “Are you saying she didn’t hurt you with her cruel remarks?”r />
  “Cruel is a strong word. Maybe inconsiderate.”

  “Don’t forget selfish.”

  “What does it matter now?”

  He didn’t answer and raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it slightly mussed and very attractive. “I did mention you were doing well, so I doubt she’ll be losing any sleep tonight.”

  She appreciated his anger on her behalf but wished he’d let go of his resentment. “Tell her there’s no hard feelings the next time you talk.”

  “We’ll see.” He stepped back and inclined his head to the side. “You want to come in?”

  He didn’t qualify the invitation with, “Just to talk,” or “To put your feet up,” like he had last night at her house. From the size of his living quarters, she doubted there’d be much room for sitting and putting up their feet—which immediately conjured images of where he slept. A bunk most likely, in the area over the hitch. Not unlike the camper she used when she was traveling to rodeos.

  For crying out loud, what was wrong with her? He’d asked if she wanted to come in, and she’d immediately begun pondering where he slept.

  Did he have something in mind besides talking?

  Who wouldn’t? She’d shown up on his doorstep at eleven at night, admitting she’d tracked him down after discovering he’d left early. Given their increasing attraction and constant falling into each other’s arms, naturally he’d concluded she wanted more than a casual conversation.

  Ronnie could have kicked herself. This idea to surprise him had been harebrained from the start and was quickly worsening. Or was it?

  In that moment, she realized she was facing a crossroads. The kind of crossroads that came around only rarely in a person’s life. Whatever she did, stay or go, would impact the rest of her life. And Nate’s. Their families, too.

  This might be the long awaited chance to set right what had gone terribly wrong. It could also be the biggest mistake she’d ever make.

  “If I come in,” she stated slowly, “how possible is it that things will progress?”

  One corner of his mouth curved up in a sexy grin. “What things?”

  “You know.” Of course he did. He was teasing her. She swallowed before replying. “Intimate things.”

  “Is that what we’re calling them now?”

  Forget the cold. Ronnie was suddenly burning up and yanked down the zipper of her hoodie. “I need to be sure.”

  “That you won’t get hurt again?” He shook his head. “I can’t guarantee it. I tried before and look what happened.”

  “I understand the risks.” He wasn’t in a position to offer her a happily-ever-after. She wasn’t in a position to offer him one, either. But as long as they were both cautious, they should be okay. “I need to be sure you...you...care for me.” Admitting her vulnerability wasn’t easy.

  “You said yourself I’ve been clear on that.”

  “You might have been joking.”

  “All right, then. Let me set the record straight.” Nate grabbed a handhold and lowered himself onto the ground. Her heart kicked into high gear as he advanced. “If you come inside with me, and, trust me, I hope you do, there will be intimate things happening. Lots of them.”

  She sucked in a soft gasp when he came to a stop in front of her, the tails of his open shirt fluttering in the breeze, the pure masculine sight and scent of him having a dizzying effect on her equilibrium.

  “I, um, see.”

  “And the reason there will be intimate things is because I care about you. A great deal, Ronnie. That’s the only reason. If I didn’t, I’d send you packing.”

  “I...yeah.” Her jaw had gone slack, making speech difficult.

  “If you aren’t ready—” his hands captured her upper arms and squeezed “—if this isn’t want you want—” he bent and brushed his lips across hers “—then you’d best skedaddle.”

  Skedaddle? Wasn’t that the word she’d used on his first day back in Mustang Valley?

  “No pressure,” he added. “You need a minute to decide?” His drawl rolled over her as he found her neck and nibbled lightly. “Or a little more convincing?”

  She held on to him in an effort to steady herself against the assault of sensations.

  “Ronnie?” He tugged on her ear with his teeth.

  “I’m ready.” A shiver of anticipation quickened her pulse. “Take me inside.”

  “Nope.” He released her and backed away. “This is something you have to do yourself.”

  Ronnie nodded, comprehending. The decision must be entirely hers.

  Sending him a radiant smile, she said, “Follow me,” and walked toward the trailer, leaving behind all her doubts and insecurities.

  * * *

  SHE WAS HERE. Alone with him. He’d been fantasizing about this very moment for days. Weeks. Okay, years.

  Contrary to what Nate claimed, he hadn’t ever gotten over Ronnie. If that were so, he’d have been with other woman. There’d been opportunities, with genuinely nice gals he’d met during his travels and those looking for a brief escape in the dark with a warm, willing body.

  He’d turned all but a few of them down for different reasons. When he’d tried dating, the end result was inevitably injured or angry feelings. Eventually, he’d stopped trying. What he hadn’t known then and did now was he’d been waiting for Ronnie and this night.

  Slow. He must not forget to go slow, resist the urge to hurry. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth the effort. He’d make sure of that.

  She stood facing him in the small space between the cabinets and the two-seater table, close enough he could see the irises of her upturned eyes changing from green to almost gold.

  “What next?”

  A dozen suggestions filled his mind. “That’s up to you.”

  “I suppose we should get undressed. There isn’t much room in the bunk for that.”

  The grin he’d been holding back erupted on his face. “Excellent idea.” Stripping off his shirt, he tossed it into a corner.

  When he paused, she said, “Keep going.”

  Oh, yeah. This was going to be good. “Tell me when to stop.”

  Unzipping his jeans, he stepped out of them. The limp heap landed on top of his shirt. When he was done, he squared his shoulders. Only his boxer briefs remained.

  With deliberate movements, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband.

  “Wait.” Ronnie’s gaze on him was unwavering.

  He lowered the briefs an inch. “For what?”

  “I need to catch up.” She shrugged off her hoodie.

  Forget good, this was going to be fantastic. He watched her remove each article of clothing, one by one and in her own sweet time. They all ended up in the pile he’d started with his clothes.

  “You’re killing me, you know,” he said when she stood in just her bra and panties.

  And what bra and panties they were. Peach colored, sheer in the most interesting places and a shade deeper than the abundance of gorgeous skin she’d exposed. Staring openly, he gulped, attempting to moisten his parched throat.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, marveling at the sight of her.

  She blushed. When had she ever done that? The color spread from her cheeks to her neck to her the lovely tops of her breasts peeking out from the bra.

  “Still full of compliments,” she chided him.

  “I mean every one.”

  When she reached behind her to unhook the bra, he stopped her. “Allow me.”

  A small smile touched her lips. “All right.”

  She turned and presented her back. With unsteady hands, he unfastened the hooks and let the bra fall to the floor. Turning her in the circle of his arms, he folded her in his embrace.

  The contact was electric, and he went hard with desire. She had to notice but rather than pull away
or stiffen, she melted against him and sighed contentedly.

  “Ronnie.” With one hand, he removed the clip securing her ponytail. When her long locks were free, he swept them aside and nuzzled her neck.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  “I want to make this as special for you as possible.”

  “I’d like that, too.”

  “This next part, well, there’s not much I can do. It’s going to be clumsy.”

  She did stiffen then. “Tell me.”

  “Better I show you.”

  Stooping slightly, he caught her behind the knees with one arm while supporting her back with the other. Straightening, he held her like one might a small child or, he couldn’t help thinking, a groom carrying his bride over the threshold.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Instead of answering her, he raised her high and deposited her onto the bunk. She bounced once before settling.

  “Scoot over,” he said. “Make room for me.”

  She complied, laughing and scrambling to the far side as he hoisted himself up to join her. When he landed on the mattress, it gave beneath his weight, and she bounced again. This time, he joined in her laughter.

  They both quieted when he rolled on top and pinned her beneath him. Those green-gold eyes of hers darkened with desire.

  “This isn’t just sex,” he said, surprised at the shaky quality of his voice.

  “For me, either.”

  “I want you. Don’t get me wrong.”

  Her playful smile returned. “I can tell.”

  “Yeah. Well, you’ve always had that effect on me, sweetheart. Can’t be helped.”

  “Same here. And once we get the rest of these clothes off, you’ll see for yourself.”

  Neither of them were shy, and they’d had a satisfying sex life at one time, fueled by their adventurous natures and active imaginations. He didn’t think either of them had changed despite their limited partners and long stretches of abstinence.

  “I really like your panties.” He shifted and tugged on the elastic band. “Get rid of them.”

  Issuing a throaty chuckle, she elevated her behind, allowing him to drag the flimsy piece of fabric down the length of her body. She assisted with the last stubborn inches, kicking the panties off.