The Cowboy

by Vonna Harper, P. J. Mellor, Nelissa Donovan

  The wink helped. A lot.

  Knowing he would understand if she blocked him out of her mind, she swung a leg over the top of the corral. No matter how far she stretched, she couldn’t get it over Rampage’s back, so she kicked off and let go of the railing at the same time. Her butt landed on a hard spine, and her inner thighs made contact with what felt like pure muscle. She had nothing to hold on to. Nothing to do except think about the incredible thing she’d just done.

  Rampage, under her. Rampage, squeezed into an enclosure designed to immobilize him, but still deadly.

  She, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. She, scared and excited and in awe of the monster.

  The bull’s thick skin shuddered, putting her in mind of a horse trying to dislodge a fly. Rampage pawed the ground.

  “Do you know who I am?” She tapped Rampage’s shoulder to make sure she had his attention. “Maybe not. You have so many grudges against so many humans.”

  Rampage snorted, the sound rumbling up from deep inside his great chest. She thought of thunder rolling through the night.

  “I’m impressed. Got it? I’m impressed. You’re an amazing creature.”

  On the tail of his second bellow, Rampage flung his head back. Because she’d sensed what he was about to do, she leaned away, evading the horns. Shit! Shit.

  “All right,” she whispered, once she’d remembered how to breathe. “Duly noted. I won’t take anything for granted.”

  Yet another bellow rolled through him. The sound seemed to press against her buttocks and thighs. She wondered if an avalanche felt and sounded like this. What would it be like to try to outrun tons of deadly free-falling snow?

  “Magnificent. Absolutely magnificent, big boy.”

  Her thighs were starting to ache from being forced into a near split, but she barely paid attention because Rampage’s heat was soaking through her jeans and imprinting her with the reality of his strong heart.

  “Do you know you have a heart? Maybe you’re all instinct. Sleeping, eating, fucking, fighting what you don’t like. Does that sum it up?”

  Once again a subtle tightening of his neck muscles alerted her. This time when he flung back his head, his horns came so close she could have grabbed them. Although he was only a few years old, she thought of the centuries his kind had been on the earth. Someday there might not be any more rodeos, but Rampage’s children and grandchildren would still be here—oblivious to man’s self-importance.

  “I envy you. I never thought I’d say that, but I do. No one’s ever going to push you around. You are what you are. You exist, simply exist.”

  Rampage repeatedly pawed the ground. His muscles rolled under her like some amusement-park ride. The difference was that she had no brakes, and the ride wouldn’t end when the operator decided. This was real life, heart, muscle, bone, a tiny brain that wanted nothing to do with humans who foolishly believed themselves his equal. The moment Rampage and the other bulls were free of this man-made prison, they became the aggressors and sometimes killing machines.

  “I’m thinking too much. Hard to believe, given the need to concentrate, isn’t it? You know, I think I want to be like you, the neighborhood bully. Feed you, and leave you alone, and you’re a happy camper. Mess with you, and you take no prisoners.”

  Still pawing, Rampage started rocking from side to side, perhaps trying to smash her legs against the boards. Lifting them, she rested them along the back of his neck.

  “End of the ride, old buddy.” With that she dove for the railing. Just as her hands closed around it, Rampage reared, his front hooves inches from her. His bellow made her ears ring.

  Strong hands gripped her and pulled her out of the way. Her belly dragged over the railing, and she kicked to help propel herself forward. Her boots struck Rampage, but she didn’t stick around to discover where she’d landed a pathetic blow.

  “Had enough?” Cougar asked. With one hand he clung to the railing. The other held her against him.

  “Oh, yeah. Quite enough.”

  A few feet away, Rampage pounded the ground like some out-of-control jackhammer. She’d sat on him! Sat and talked and felt. Discovered.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and rested her head against Cougar’s chest.

  “You learned what you needed to?”

  Straightening, she looked into the eyes of maybe the one man on Earth who understood. “Yes.”

  “Now what?”

  “Now I get ready to ride.”

  There was more than one kind of ride. The first had occurred earlier when she’d ridden Trixie to a second-place finish, secure in the belief that she could coax an even faster run out of her mare during tomorrow night’s final.

  As for the second—

  “Jordan?”

  Cougar’s voice turned her around. The bridle she held started to slide out of her hand, prompting her to clutch it. Believing she wouldn’t see him until long after the show was over, she’d bedded Trixie down but had taken the bridle with her so she could work some lubricant into the leather. Instead of going to her place, she’d wandered back toward the arena complex. Although the fans had left, most of the participants were around the concession stand drinking beer and dissecting everyone’s performance.

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “Maybe instinct.” Taking the bridle from her, he looped it over his neck. Then, obviously not caring who else saw, he took her in his arms and bent her back until she clung to him to keep from falling. Her legs slid between his, and she felt cradled by him.

  Alive.

  Instinct closed her mouth in on his. The same primitive reaction propelled her pelvis toward his. He was aroused, as turned on as she felt. When he parted his lips, she did the same and welcomed his tongue into her. It circled her mouth and then rolled in and out, igniting memories of another kind of invasion. Familiar heat spun through her.

  “Get a room!” a man yelled.

  “Do it fast,” another added. “Looks like the two of you are going to be busy all night.”

  “Are we?” Cougar asked as he helped her straighten. Instead of releasing her, he pressed on her buttocks and kept her close. If not for their clothes, they already would have been fucking. “Going to be busy all night?”

  Taking his face in her hands, she looked up at him. Even as her pelvis gave out a message she intended to explore for as long as the two of them lasted, she faced the world beyond this moment. “You’re going to be leaving as soon as things wind up tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “I have to. The bulls are—”

  “Committed to the next rodeo. I know.”

  “Not just that one. They’re booked clear up to the finals. And depending on how they perform through the rest of the season, I might be taking a couple of them to the finals.”

  “Living on the road.”

  “It’ll quiet down some during the winter, but I’m going to be traveling some, looking to replace some of the stock.”

  “Not Rampage?”

  “No.” His smile lasted no more than a second. “He’ll be around for several more years. What about you? Are you going to try to qualify for the finals?”

  A few days ago she hadn’t dared look beyond trying to face her demons. But she had, damnit. If she was ever going to make her mark in the barrel-racing world, this was the time to do it.

  If.

  Not caring who saw, she rested her hands on his hips. They hadn’t said anything about a future together. This thing between them was too new, and she’d had too much personal baggage to get rid of.

  “Don’t,” he warned and removed her hands.

  “You don’t want—”

  “I don’t trust myself where you’re concerned.”

  “You don’t want—”

  “Oh, I want, in spades.” His hard and hot gaze left no doubt of his meaning. “But if I go to one rodeo and you go another, the only way I’m going to handle it is by walking away from you, now. I’m not going to stop you, Jordan. Not eve
n going to try. I pulled my life back together, so I think I know what you’ve just gone through. I don’t want your effort to be for nothing.”

  “You think I should—”

  “I think you should do what you want to with your life and not be pulled from it by what’s been going on between us. If you do, the time will come when you regret it—and resent me.”

  Epilogue

  I t was probably close to three A.M. Because she hadn’t bothered with anything except her socks, Jordan’s feet were silent on the packed gravel. Although the small rocks dug into her heels, she gave the discomfort scant attention.

  She’d tried to sleep. Damnit, she really had.

  But as she’d suspected, the answers she’d been seeking had kept her awake. As for whether she would learn more now—

  He wasn’t in his rig after all. Instead Cougar was sitting in a lawn chair near it. Only a few lights had been left on to illuminate the grounds. As a consequence, if she hadn’t memorized his contours, she wouldn’t have known that the shadow belonged to him.

  Maybe he knew the same thing about her, because he nodded when she drew close and indicated she could sit in the chair next to him. He was barefoot and shirtless.

  Had he put out the other chair because he knew she would come? Maybe he’d only been hoping.

  “I love this time of night,” she said, sitting down and stretching her weary legs. “The world has gone away, leaving me with my thoughts.”

  “You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking.”

  “And?” How she wanted to touch him! But not yet.

  “No matter what I want, the decision is yours.”

  “Which gets down to what do I want to do with my life, right?”

  “Right. You faced your demons. You can go forward.”

  “Thanks to you. If you hadn’t let me get on Rampage’s back—”

  “I believe you would have gotten to this point without me or Rampage. All he and I did, maybe, was get you there faster.”

  “You really believe that?”

  He didn’t answer. Unless she’d been mistaken, he hadn’t moved a muscle since inviting her to join him in the dark.

  “It’s strange,” she said. “Ever since Rampage rearranged my leg bone, I’ve thought of little else. But not tonight while I was trying to fall asleep.” Although her legs threatened to collapse, she stood and moved in front of Cougar. “Tonight I thought about you. Us.”

  Gazing into the eyes of the man lost in the night, she unsnapped her shirt and pulled it off her shoulders. Then she held it out, not breathing until he accepted the gift. She hadn’t bothered to put back on her bra after getting out of bed. Neither had she bothered with panties, a fact made clear as she stepped out of her jeans.

  “I’ve been doing the same thing,” he said and took the jeans from her.

  “If you want me, if you want to explore this thing between us, I’d like to follow you and the bulls.” Her voice was thick with unspent tears and fear more powerful than she’d ever felt. What if he rejected her?.

  He dropped her clothes to the ground. “What about competing?”

  “If I can get entered in time, I will. But it isn’t a priority.”

  Instead of asking what her priority was, he took her hands and pulled her close. “It’s an insane life. I don’t really have a home.”

  “I don’t need one.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Just—just you.”

  “What about your life?”

  “You—you’re my life. As long as I have that, everything else will fall into place.”

  Standing, he lifted her in his arms. Clinging to his neck, she pressed her cheek against his chest as he carried her into his sleeping quarters. A nightlight in the bathroom was the only illumination.

  “Welcome home,” he said and laid her on his bed.

  Cowboy in Paradise

  P.J. Mellor

  Special thanks to Jody Payne, at Evensong Farms, for sharing her knowledge of horses. Any mistakes are entirely mine.

  1

  “S o tell me, just how drunk do you have to be to have sex in a PortaPotti?”

  Tyler Last swallowed and set his longneck bottle on the bar, the thought of his excesses forming a knot in the pit of his stomach. “Too damn drunk.” He fixed his gaze on the rodeo clown’s smiling face. “I’m through. With everything. As of right now. I already sold my ranch and packed my truck.” He picked at the label on the sweating bottle. “I’m only thirty-two, and I’m the old man of the circuit.” He shrugged. “And I’m sick of getting my ass kicked, hardly able to crawl out of bed the next morning.”

  “You’re never in the same bed the next morning.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s that, too.” He tipped the bottle to his lips again and then returned the smile of the redhead at the end of the bar. Maybe outright quitting was too hasty. Tapering off might be easier. Throwing money on the smooth surface, he said, “See you around,” and headed toward the woman. After all, a guy had to ease into the turning-over-a-new-leaf thing.

  Tyler rolled out of bed and walked naked into the bathroom. With a cautious glance at the redhead sprawled across the mattress, he closed the door until it clicked and then turned on the light.

  Damn. He scrubbed his face with his hands, forking them through his hair. He’d done it again. Other than the fact that she had red hair—and he could attest to the fact that it was natural—he had no idea what she looked like. Wouldn’t recognize her if he saw her again.

  Which he definitely did not plan to do.

  Dropping the used condom in the trash, he thanked god he at least hadn’t been too far gone to remember the condom when he looked at the filthy mess of her bathroom. He glared at his bleary reflection in the dirty mirror and stepped into his jeans. No doubt about it, he’d sunk about as low as he was going to go.

  It was way past time for a serious attitude and lifestyle adjustment.

  He took a cautious glance over his shoulder, ten minutes later, at the darkened house and eased onto the leather seat of his pickup.

  Where the hell was he? His stomach clenched. It took a minute to remember and get his bearings. Damn, he hated when that happened. And it happened too often of late.

  The powerful engine of his Silverado roared to life. With a pop of the clutch, he headed for the southbound highway, towing all his worldly possessions: a leather satchel of clothing, his newest horse trailer, and his only friend in the whole world, Jim, his palomino quarter-horse stallion.

  The pink glow of dawn feathered the horizon by the time he spotted his exit. Paradise Beach, Population 1312.

  “Now thirteen hundred and thirteen,” he muttered, “and I sure as hell hope it’s my lucky number.”

  The road to his grandmother’s place looked different. More new buildings and homes than he remembered. He took the back approach, coming to a stop behind the stables.

  After lowering the ramp, he slapped the horse’s flank and gave a short whistle. “C’mon, Jim, we’re here.”

  The horse did not budge.

  “Jim! Yah! Back it up, bud.” He gave a short yank on Jim’s tail.

  The horse crowded closer to the front of the trailer.

  “Damnit, Jim! I’m tired. I need some sleep.” He wedged between horse and wall and walked to stare face-to-face. “Don’t do this to me again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  The horse snickered and turned its head.

  He grasped Jim’s ears and forced the animal to face him. “Back. Up.”

  Tyler threw his weight against the horse’s shoulder and pushed, but Jim had him on weight.

  Working up a sweat, he finally convinced Jim it was in his best interest to get out of the trailer and into the stable. After feeding the horse and making sure he was comfortable in the stall, Tyler headed toward the house and the welcoming light from his grandmother’s kitchen window.

  It took a minute to locate his key to the back door. The second he stepped in, inhaling the familiar scen
ts, he knew everything would be all right.

  “Sonny?” His grandmother’s chirpy voice echoed down the hall. “That you?”

  “Yeah, Gram,” he answered, already bent in front of her double-door refrigerator to look for leftovers.

  Steps sounded in the hall, but he had his eye on a triple-layer chocolate cake and was now looking for milk.

  “Shut that door, you heathen, and come give your granny some sugar!”

  He immediately complied, hugging her close to his heart and bending to place a smacking kiss on her soft, powdery smelling cheek.

  Loosening his embrace, he stepped back and looked at the woman who’d been like a second mother to him. “Gram!” He made a big deal of perusing her, not entirely sure he was comfortable with the feminine peignoir set. “Lookin’ sexy, there! Got a new beau?” He loved teasing her and waited for her playful swat.

  Instead, she chewed her lip.

  “As a matter of fact, I have more than that.” She motioned toward the hall door, where a tall, distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair stood in a robe.

  “This is Mason,” Gram said. “My, ah, husband.”

  Tyler paused and then set the carton of milk on the granite counter. “Stop clowning around, Gram.”

  The man—Mason—stepped forward, hand outstretched.

  Tyler looked at it. With hands like that, he doubted the guy had ever done a day of hard labor in his life. Probably didn’t even know how to ride.

  He took the hand and held on. Best to establish his territory from the get-go. “Tyler Last.”

  Mason gripped his hand and didn’t break eye contact. “Mason Edwards.”

  Tyler tightened his grasp.

  Mason reciprocated.

  The old guy had balls, he would give him that.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake,” Gram groused, “would you two stop your pissing contest?”

  Tyler dropped the older man’s hand and stepped back to the counter to pour a big glass of milk. “Soon as I polish off a hunk of cake and drink this, I’ll be heading upstairs to bed. I need at least a few hours of sleep.”