Sweet-Talking Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  He glanced at her. “This is an amazing piece.”

  “I’m happy you think so. It’s yours.”

  “Mine? But it should go in a gallery.”

  “It goes where I say it does. But since you don’t have an envelope or folder to put it in, I’ll keep it for now.”

  “Please do. It needs to go straight to a framer. Henri’s found someone who works out of his home. I’m not tacking this one to the bunkhouse wall.”

  “You can if you want. I’m just glad you like it.”

  “I love it.” He studied the drawing a little longer before closing the sketchpad and handing it to her.

  “Good.” She held his gaze. “That’s the reaction I hoped for.”

  “Saying thank you seems so lame.”

  She smiled. “Not to me.”

  His breath caught as he sank deeper into the warm blue depths of her eyes. A step closer. Then another. He nudged back his hat. Cupping her face in both hands, he slid his fingers through her hair and cradled the back of her head. “Thank you.” He slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucy had never wanted a kiss so much. When Matt’s lips settled over hers, she responded with a soft hum of delight.

  He paused and took a breath. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Do it anyway.”

  With a low groan, he returned, touching down with deliberate intent, coaxing her to open to him.

  Yeah, like she’d offer resistance. She welcomed the gentle thrust of his tongue with a sigh of pleasure. The sketchpad kept her from wrapping her arms around him, but she had one hand free. She slid her palm up his broad chest, over his pounding heart and under the open collar of his shirt. Warm, bare skin.

  She caressed his nape and he shuddered. Pulling her closer, he deepened the kiss. Dangerous territory. Arousal pulsed between them, fueled by six years of secret longing. Hot, so hot. She wanted…

  Gasping, he pulled back, stepped away, propped his hands on his hips. His hot gaze set her on fire. “Chaperones.”

  “What?”

  “Gotta have ’em. Without chaperones, this happens.”

  “I liked it.”

  “I know!” His voice was hoarse with frustration. “I did, too!” He paused to clear his throat. “But on Saturday you’re going back to LA. That’ll be a hell of a lot easier on both of us if we don’t… get involved.”

  “We’re already involved.” She sucked in air. “We’ve been involved since we were teenagers.”

  His eyes darkened. “Are you saying you want to go for it?”

  “No! I mean, yes, but no. Doesn’t make sense. Our lives don’t mesh.”

  “Feels like some kind of cosmic joke.” He grabbed his hat by the crown and repositioned it to shadow his eyes. “Here’s a person you’ll connect with physically and emotionally.” He gestured in her direction. “But she doesn’t fit in your world and you don’t fit in hers. Have fun.”

  “I did just now.”

  His expression mellowed. “Me, too. But as the person who started it, I say I made things worse.”

  “You didn’t start it. I could have left with Rafe. I’d finished sketching Lucky Ducky, which was my main project. But I wanted one of you with Thunderbolt. If you hadn’t offered to go into the stall with me, I would have asked you to.”

  “So you wanted a sketch of me and Thunder. So what? You couldn’t have known I’d react by kissing you.”

  “On some level I did, although that wasn’t why I suggested it. Doing that sketch fed my muse like crazy. But you’re a sucker for my art and I—”

  “You were flirting with me?”

  She laughed. “Matt, I’ve flirted with you every summer for five years. Once I discovered you were fascinated with my sketching, it served double duty—creative satisfaction and a way to lure you into my daily plans.”

  “Huh. Well, you figured me out. Watching you sketch turns me on. And when you present me with a fantastic drawing of me with my horse, I can’t think of anything but kissing you.”

  “I can beat that. I think of kissing you whenever we’re together. I’ve been imagining it since I was fourteen.”

  “This is a mess. You know that, right?”

  She held up both hands. “Not my intention. I was scheduled to arrive with a husband in tow. That would have permanently doused the flames.”

  “I’ll admit I was counting on that guy to bail me out.” His eyes narrowed. “Is that why you booked the ranch for your honeymoon? You wanted to put me on notice that you were taken?”

  “Of course not.” She paused and conducted a quick personal lie detector test to root out the truth. “All right, full disclosure, I relished the idea of parading my new husband in front of you. He’s not a cowboy, but he’s a handsome son-of-a-gun.”

  “Then I hope he shows up. It would be a special treat to break his perfect nose.”

  “He won’t come after me. He doesn’t care enough.”

  “Then shame on him, because you’re the catch of the century.”

  Heat sluiced through her. “Matt, we should go.”

  “No kidding. Should’ve done that twenty minutes ago. And the longer we stand here unchaperoned, the more I—”

  “That, too. But we have plans.”

  “We could call in sick.”

  Her pulse leaped. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Can’t help it. I want you.”

  She took a shaky breath. “My turn to be the sensible one. We’re going to follow the plan. We’ll eat dinner, put on our dancing boots and head to the Choosy Moose with the gang.”

  He smiled. “Those red boots deserve an outing.”

  “I’m probably taking a chance on getting blisters. I should break them in first.”

  “Wear ’em and take your sneakers for backup.”

  “Good idea.” She buttoned her coat. “I’m off to the dining hall.”

  “I’ll walk you there.”

  “But then we’ll have more alone time.”

  He laughed. “Not a problem, California girl. It’s below freezing out there. Nobody makes out in that kind of weather. Bad things happen.” He gestured toward the front door. “After you.”

  * * *

  He was right about the make-out conditions. Once she stepped from the warm barn into the icy night, her libido powered down. “Listen, you don’t have to walk me over there. It’s out of your way.”

  “I’m walking you over there.”

  “It’s not like I’ll freeze to death on the way.”

  “That’s not the point. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. Or more specifically, it’s what Charley would do.”

  “Ah, the code of the Buckskin Brotherhood.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gave him a quick glance. The collar of his sheepskin jacket partially covered his face, adding a ruggedness that stirred her. “That heroic quality is one of the things I’ve loved about coming here. I didn’t understand that before, but I get it, now. You guys behave like the heroes in the books I used to read. No wonder some of the ladies fall for you. You’re knights in shining armor.”

  He chuckled. “Glad you brought that up. A true knight in shining armor would have been too honorable to kiss you. I’ll keep your comment in mind next time I have that urge.”

  “It’s not your fault. Like I said, flirting with you is my default setting. I need to cut that out and play fair.”

  “So you won’t flirt with me at the Choosy Moose?”

  “I won’t.” She sighed. “Except that means I can’t wear the jeans with bling on the back pockets.”

  “And clearly you bought them to wear dancing.”

  “Yes, but I also bought them because when I came out of the dressing room with them on, your eyes lit up.”

  “That wasn’t the only part of me that lit up.”

  “See? I can’t in good conscience wear those tonight.”

  “Yes, you can. You look great in them. Let me worry ab
out my reaction.”

  “Spoken like a true hero.”

  “Then allow me to be one. Wear the jeans.”

  Lucy put on the fancy jeans because they were perfect for a country bar on a Saturday night. And because Matt had asked her to. She spent extra time experimenting with her new makeup, so she hadn’t put on her jacket by the time he pulled up outside.

  He rapped on the door before she’d finished buttoning the jacket and she hurried to let him in. “I’m ready. I just—”

  “Did you wear them?”

  “Yep.” She spun around so he could see her back pockets. Then she turned to him. “What do you think?”

  He swallowed. “I’ll be honest. I’m having very impure thoughts.”

  “Should I change?”

  “No, ma’am. My problem. Besides, CJ and Nick are in the truck. I left it running. We need to go.”

  She checked her pocket to make sure she’d put her wallet and key inside. “Then we’re off.” She started toward the door.

  “One sec.” He put a hand on her shoulder and slowly turned her to face him. “Once we’re in the truck, I won’t be able to say this. You’re incredibly beautiful. I don’t trust myself to kiss you, but please know how much I want to. You blow me away.”

  Trembling, she clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him. “Thank you. I’m struggling so I won’t grab you, too.” Her breath hitched. “Because if I did, I might never let go.”

  Sadness flickered in his eyes. He squeezed her shoulder and released his grip. Reaching around her, he opened the door. “The guys are waiting.”

  She nodded and walked into the cold night. She’d treasure his heartfelt words for the rest of her life. But first she had to get through the next six days without jumping his bones. Speeches like that weren’t helping the cause.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Moose on a Saturday night was always a high-energy venue. Ben Malone made sure the country band was top notch so the dance floor would be packed.

  Matt relished the challenge of navigating the crowded floor without curtailing any of his moves. He hadn’t asked if Lucy liked to dance, but the red boots were a promising sign. If he chose wisely, like a fast Texas two-step, they’d only have brief body contact. Doable.

  Except that plan had to be scrapped when Lucy’s prediction came true. He’d never had so many women ask him to dance. Candace was the first, but then it was an endless stream of ladies. Some he’d met and others he hadn’t.

  Lucy was in the same boat. Whenever he searched the crowd for her, she was out on the floor with some attentive cowboy. First she partnered with each member of the Brotherhood. He’d expected that. But then guys he barely knew showed up and claimed a dance.

  Eventually he created a break for himself by pleading desperate thirst. Crossing to the large booth commandeered by the Buckskin contingent, he took a seat on the end. “Is that empty mug for me?”

  “Just for you, twinkle-toes,“ Jake said. “We kept it at the ready on the off chance you’d do us the honor of raising a glass in our company.”

  “Look, I have no idea why—”

  “We’ve all decided it’s the hair.” Jake picked up a pitcher of hard apple cider, filled the mug and passed it down to Matt.

  “Thanks.” He gulped down half of the mug’s contents and sat back with a sigh. “That’s better. And I can’t believe it’s the hair.”

  Kate raised her mug in his direction. “I, for one, think your hair looks fabulous.”

  “It’s the hair,” CJ said. “The same might be true of Lucy, although it’s hard to say because her entire presentation is awesome. You, on the other hand, are the same as always, except for your new do.”

  Matt rolled his eyes. “That’s crazy.” But the mention of Lucy prompted him to seek her out on the dance floor. “Who’s that Lucy’s with?”

  Rafe leaned around him. “I think that’s the new guy at the auto parts store. John. Maybe Jim. Some J name.”

  “Jerry,” Nick said. “It’s Jerry something.”

  “Hm.” Matt sipped his drink. “Do you think she’s having a good time?”

  Rafe took another look. “I can’t tell from here.”

  “I can.” Matt put down his mug. “That’s her bored face. I’m going to cut in.” He stood.

  “If you’re doing that, I’m cutting in on the guy Millie’s dancing with.” Jake slid out of the booth. “This is the second time he’s danced with her and she’s not smiling. She wants to be saved.”

  Matt squared his shoulders. “Then let’s do this. Follow me.”

  “I hope you know your interest is showing.”

  “Don’t care. I don’t like the look of that guy. And you’re one to talk.”

  “I’m not crazy about the way Millie’s dude is holding her so close.”

  “Okay, you go right and I’ll go left.”

  “I’m on it.” Jake split off.

  The song was a slow one, which made the maneuver easier. Matt approached from the side. Yeah, Lucy was bored out of her tree. She caught sight of him two seconds before he tapped the guy on the shoulder. Her relieved expression made him smile.

  Jerry scowled at him. “Really? Guys still do this?”

  “Yes, they do.” Matt locked his gaze with Jerry’s.

  The guy sighed and released Lucy. “This town is so last century.”

  “And that’s how we like it.” Matt drew Lucy into his arms and twirled her away.

  “Thank you for saving me.”

  “You’re welcome. You had on your bored face.”

  “He’s not a bad guy, but this is the second slow dance I’ve suffered through while he talks endlessly about auto parts.”

  “Sorry I didn’t come to your rescue sooner.” He’d automatically pulled her in close. Big mistake.

  “No worries. You’ve been a very busy man tonight.”

  “And you’ve been a very busy lady.” He gazed down at her. “Having fun?”

  “Yes, except for Jerry. That fake moose head over the bar is hysterical. At first I thought it was an actual trophy.”

  “Nope. That’s Merlin. He’s just a goofy fake to make people laugh.”

  “I assume the hearts hanging from Merlin’s antlers are for Valentine’s Day.”

  ““Yes, ma’am. Ben will probably leave them up for the weekend, then haul out the shamrock garlands for St. Paddy’s Day.”

  “Ben?”

  “Ben Malone. He owns the place. Has for as far back as I can remember. He caught me trying to buy a drink at the bar with a fake ID when I was sixteen. Made me wash dishes for a week in exchange for not turning me in.”

  “Nice of him.”

  “For some reason he liked me. I think he might have been the one who convinced Henri and Charley to take me in.” The friction of her body against his would be a problem very soon. “How long do you figure we’ve been dancing?”

  “Not that long.” Her breathing quickened.

  “I might have miscalculated, cutting in on a slow dance.”

  “You could put more distance between us. That might help.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She shook her head. “That would just create a different kind of frustration.”

  “Agreed. Might not do much good, anyway. Just looking in your eyes gets me hot.”

  “But since you cut in, we should probably stay out here until the song’s over.”

  “Yeah, we should, but if we do…”

  “Maybe I can talk you down.”

  He cracked up. “Sure you can.”

  “No, really. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Then go for it. Should be entertaining, if nothing else.”

  “I’ll take you through a guided imagery.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “I’ll show you. Focus on my earlobe.”

  “Which one?”

  “Pick a side.”

  “I see a mark where you pierced your ears.”

 
“I did, once. Then decided I didn’t want to fool with pierced ears. That’s why I have a tiny scar there.”

  “I want to kiss it.”

  “Matt, you’re not helping. If you can’t focus on my earlobe, then try my—”

  “Your earlobe’s better than any other body part. But if I focus on that, I’ll bump into people.”

  “Not if you let me lead.”

  “How?”

  “Same as you lead me, only I’ll put pressure on your shoulder.”

  “I’ve never turned over the reins on the dance floor.”

  “Then it’s about time. Unless you want to end this dance sporting a woody.”

  “Rather not.”

  “Then let’s try this. Concentrate on my earlobe.”

  He did as he was told. “This is weird.”

  “Just block out everything and listen. You’re on a frozen lake. The cold is rising from the surface. You’re wearing thin cotton pants.”

  He responded to pressure on his shoulder and they hadn’t collided with anyone yet. “I don’t own thin cotton pants.”

  “You do now and the cold is cutting straight through them. Your legs are cold. Your package is cold.”

  “Mm. Not a happy situation.”

  “The ice is slick. You lose your balance.”

  “I don’t want to go in the—”

  “You fall forward, but fortunately the ice doesn’t crack.”

  “Good.”

  “Except there’s one weak spot that does begin to give way. Your body heat melts it just enough that a hole opens.”

  “I’ll bet I know where that hole is.”

  “Slowly, inevitably, your pride and joy is covered in ice water.”

  He chuckled. “I knew it.”

  “The song’s over. How’re you doing?”

  “Better.”

  “The band’s taking a break. Let’s go sit.”

  “Excellent idea.” He put an arm around her waist, her deliciously warm waist, and started back toward the table. “Where’d you learn that?”