“You keep doing what you’re doing around the house and you’re going to find yourself working full-time here at the ranch.”
“That can’t happen. You all are just being nice to me. Eventually you’ll be handing out walking papers.”
When he laid his hand on hers, she jerked her chin up. Her beautiful, open gaze struck something in him that he couldn’t quite describe. He knew then that he was more than simply attracted to her. How real could those feelings be when he had no clue who she was, what made her tick? He removed his hand and he felt a deep void.
Chapter 10
HOLY MOTHER OF all that was good! Monica was turned on. She was standing ten feet away watching Cull brush one of the horses and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. He’d removed his shirt and each time he moved his muscles would flex under tanned skin. His large hands were deft and capable. He spoke softly to the horse and scratched her neck as he continued the task. The cowboy was a mixture of bad ass and gentle, and it was intoxicating.
The temperature turned up a notch and a heat wave happened between her inner thighs. How could one man possess so much masculinity and virality to make her squirm without even touching her? Not one itty-bitty touch and she was drooling.
She could fall for Cullen Cade easily. Everything about him was interesting and desirable. Falling couldn’t happen but did she have control over her heart?
Mesmerized in him, she smoothed her tongue over her quivering lips and counted to ten—backward and forward, trying to get back on track. There was no going back after meeting him, so why try? Why keep denying herself?
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Ready to try?”
She snapped up a brow. “You’re doing such a good job.”
“Yeah, but I’m the teacher and you’re the student for today. Let me teach.” His grin reached in and tickled every feminine pink part of her body. “Come here, I’ll help you.” He cocked his chin, motioning for her to come.
Oh. My. God!
She’d come alright.
Forcing her body to move, one step at a time, she felt like a zombie out for brains. Instead of brains, she wanted Cull. By the time she made it across the ten feet of space, she was sweaty and quivering. He handed her the brush and their fingers touched. She sucked in a breath, needing a splash of cold water, but why did he seem unaffected by the accidental brushing of fingers? Was she just some desperate poor woman who took every caress and glance as a come-on? She’d stop that instant. Yes…maybe…but could she?
The wood was still warm from his hand which made her wonder even more what his touch would feel like on her sensitive body. And if that wasn’t enough, he took a step behind her, his hard body pressed hers, his breath on her neck and his wide chest against her back. This unleashed a second round of heat.
“Here, let me show you how she likes it,” Cull’s soft words were said close to her ear, tickling her. He took her hand that held the brush and led it to the horse’s back. Their bodies were pushed close as he guided her long strokes along the equine’s smooth back. “See, she likes long, fluid strokes. From neck to ass.”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Imagine your own hair being brushed. Long, gentle strokes.”
Soaking up the warmth of his body, she allowed herself to lean against the stability of his chest, his hand laying gently on hers as they continued to brush together. This felt so good, having him close and feeling his heat. His intoxicating scent teased her nostrils and turned her blood to fire. She was certain the horse was brushed very good…
****
She smelled like honey and musk and so damn warm and seductive that Cull couldn’t manage anything but to stay close to her. He craved her warmth as much as he desired her delectable curves cushioning the hard planes of his body doing something other than brushing a horse.
His heart beat so fast, something similar to running a marathon. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t be wanting her, needing her, and yet she seemed willing and wanting his touch. The woman was more intoxicating than alcohol and more invigorating than a skinny dip. Her scent was ethereal. He breathed in, inhaling her. The tiniest trace of sweat from working the ranch mingled around their bodies and he’d never found a hard day’s work sexier. He closed his eyes, nestling his nose in her hair, loving the coconut scented shampoo she’d used. How could she still smell so damn sweet and he probably smelled like he’d been run through a pig’s pen.
Goosebumps scattered his skin. He’d never been this affected by any woman. A fiery chill raced through him, clear into his bones.
He could lose himself right here. Allow nature to run its course and press her against the barn wall and take her fast and hard. Then slow and easy.
Then a thought burned through him. What would she do when she got her memory back? The bigger issue, she had a perilous history. That meant there was no chance for a future, unless he could prove that she didn’t have anything to do with Yate’s death. What the hell? When did it change from him taking her in to the authorities to now proving that she was innocent. He could hear his brothers now, “Damn bro, have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?”
Maybe he was, slowly but surely, but he couldn’t risk losing the most important part of his body. His heart.
Fear trickled down his spine like sprinkles of icy water, and he stepped back. “Brushing is finished. I think we’ve done enough for today.
She turned and looked at him in that certain way that drove through him. She must have felt the sudden distance because her expression sucked every bit of warmth from him. He wanted to apologize, say something, but what could he say?
“Cull…?”
He forced a smile to his lips. “I don’t want to overwork you. You’ve done a lot today.” Poor choice of words. They worked his brain down a path where it didn’t belong. Hell, was there anything at this point that he could say that he wouldn’t relate to sex? That’s why he needed some detachment from her before he did something he regretted.
She nodded and handed over the brush. His gaze naturally fell to the shadows of her nipples in the thin top. His cock pushed his zipper and he took off his hat, swiping a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to you later.” He didn’t wait around. He turned on his boot heels and disappeared as fast as his feet would carry him. What he needed was a cold shower…hell, he needed to jump into the pond.
Chapter 11
CULL HAD DONE a good job of steering clear of the ranch, and Monica, for a few days. He felt like an ass, but if he didn’t stay away they were bound to get caught up in a sticky situation. Although he wanted her, he couldn’t step into anything until he knew where they were headed. She wasn’t the type a man could spend some intimate time with and then move on.
Good news was, he’d spent the last forty-eight hours digging deeper into the mysterious case of the dead man. He hadn’t found a lot of answers, but he felt like he was closer. His buddy, Deke, couldn’t be reached. Cull took it upon himself to drive the two hours away to speak to the dead man’s wife, Priscilla Yates. He was grateful she’d taken some time to speak with him, although the chat had lasted less than ten minutes. He could tell when a person held all their cards close, and that woman was trained at saying the right thing, not unlike many politicians. He did know one thing, Ms. Yates wasn’t the teary-eyed window she portrayed on all the recent appearances. She’d sobbed in front of the cameras, but she didn’t shed one tear in front of Cull. In fact, it was professional all the way, not something he expected from a woman whose husband had died brutally.
He leaned back into the seat of his truck and grabbed his coffee espresso from the console and took a long drink. Damn. It had long grown cold.
Thankfully, he was friends with the coroner who examined Yates. Glancing over at the folder that he’d received from that office, he opened it to look at the postmortem shots of the body and the crime scene.
Shuffling through the photos, several things stood out to Cull. There were definite si
gns of a struggle. From the pattern of blood spatter and smears, it was obvious that the man who was listed as six one in height and two hundred pounds had put up a fight. How could petite Monica stab her lover while he’s fighting and finish him by strangling him with a piano wire? Next question, how did she manage to walk through the lobby of the motel without one spot of blood on her clothing? The forensic investigator had used luminol and no trace amounts of blood were found in the bathroom, or anywhere in the room except for the hallway in front of the door. The blood from the scene was tested. The DNA of two people were found. One was the victim’s and the other was unidentified because the samples were contaminated.
Cull had always heard from his father that anything that smelled fishy was fishy. Plain and simple. What he’d bet his savings on was that the killer tracked Yates to the motel and Monica happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. She saw the killer’s face and hurried out of motel. And what she was guilty of was not reporting a crime. Maybe she was scared that the killer would find her, or that she would give away the fact that she was sleeping with a married man. Either way, something had to force her to go into hiding and then show up at her apartment at the very time someone was waiting for her. He didn’t believe in coincidences any more than he believed in love at first sight.
Closing the folder and dropping it on the seat, he laid his head back and sighed in frustration. Maybe he was grasping for the implausible. Maybe he wanted so badly for her to be innocent that he couldn’t see the clues of guilt through his own biased thoughts.
That made this case even that much crazier. He’d never lost sight of clues of facts.
Rubbing his eyes, he was ready for some shut eye.
He started to reach for the key, ready to head home, when he saw lights coming up the street. He ducked down and watched the person in the car type in the code at the gate in front of the Yates’s home. Cull grabbed his phone and took a quick picture just before the person continued up toward the house. The driver didn’t shut off the car, but waited until the garage door opened and he pulled in.
Cull checked the time. Twelve-ten A.M. Too late for a business meeting. This painted a different picture for Cull. The forlorn widow wasn’t so forlorn after all. That didn’t make her bad, but it did make him more suspicious. So, Mr. Yates wasn’t the only one who had a wandering GPS.
Picking up his phone, Cull dialed Kace’s number and he answered on the third ring. “This better be good,” his brother grumbled.
“I need you to look up a license plate number for me.”
“Couldn’t this have waited until morning.”
“No. Sorry. I’ll be sending a picture via email.”
“Fine, but I’m not going into the office until morning,” Kace yawned.
“Alright, but I need the owner of the vehicle ASAP.” Cull watched the house wishing he had x-ray vision.
“First thing tomorrow. I’m hanging up now. I don’t know about you, but I need my beauty sleep if I’m getting on a bull tomorrow.”
There was a click and the phone went dead.
Feeling like he wasn’t going to get anywhere tonight, he started his truck and headed home. He had a hankering to see Monica, but it was best he steered clear. When he had some information to pass along, or she got her memory back, then they could start putting the puzzle pieces together.
****
“So, you’re the guest?”
Monica looked up from where she was slicing cucumber for the salad to the beautiful woman she recognized as Kiersten. Even if Monica hadn’t seen the picture in the apartment she would have recognized the woman from anywhere. She looked just like the Cade clan, yet feminine, modelesque. “Yes, I’m Monica.”
“Nice to meet you finally. I’m Kiersten.”
“I didn’t know you were home.” Monica watched the woman watching her, feeling a bit intimidated. Then a smile swept over her features.
Kiersten crossed the space and Monica held out her hand, but the lovely woman chuckled. “Honey, we hug around these parts.”
Monica was pulled in for a tight hug.
They parted, and Monica felt even more now that the Cade family were the kindest people. “I owe you an apology. I borrowed some of your clothing.”
With a wave of a hand and wink, Kiersten said, “No worries. Trust me, you’re not the only girl who has had to borrow some clothes.” She must have sensed Monica’s curiosity because she laughed. “I’m not talking about Cull, honey. That boy has never brought home a girl. So, you being here proves that my brother might not be as anti-committal as we all thought.”
“Oh, our relationship isn’t like that.” Monica’s heartbeat sped up. So, did all his family think they were interested in each other? “I was in an accident and he helped me.”
“He’s definitely never brought home one of his cases.” She laughed. “Let’s put all that aside. Ma has told me you’ve been helping her out. Thank you. I don’t get to see them as much as I like.”
“I feel like I should help. They’ve all been so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without them.” And that was the truth. They had all been her life savers.
“Are these your plans for the evening? To make dinner?”
“I also thought I’d dust the shelves, clean out the fireplace, and if I had the time, sweep the back porch.”
Kiersten was a tall woman, and when she placed her arm around Monica’s shoulders, she realized just how different they were in size. “Honey, even Cinderella got a day off.”
Monica gave a small smile. “Even if I had a day off I’m not sure where I’d go. Without a car and without Cull—”
“Hogwash. Leave my brother out of it. He has his reasons. It’s rodeo night and it’s something you don’t want to miss.”
“Rodeo? I’ve never been, at least I don’t think so.”
Kiersten went to the fridge and took out a can of sparkling water and popped the top. “Then you definitely must go. Local cowboys ride bulls to raise money for charity. They have carnival rides, elephant ears, and the best fried cookies you’ve ever tasted.”
“Elephant ears?”
Kiersten’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember elephant ears? They’re to die for.”
“Will Cull be riding today?”
“All the Cade men will be. It’s tradition.” She set her can down.
“I don’t think Cull mentioned the event for a reason.” Would he not want her there?
“Again, sweetie, don’t worry about Cull.” Kiersten looked Monica up and down. “Every cowgirl needs a pair of boots, daisy dukes, and a hat to keep the sun off her face.”
“I’m afraid I’m clean out of those three things.”
“Good thing you’re looking at a cowgirl who has an extravagant wardrobe right upstairs. Come along and let’s get pretty.” She took Monica’s hand and started for the stairs.
“What about dinner?”
“What about it?” Kiersten gave her a side glance.
“I’ve only just started.”
“You’d be the only one eating, honey. Ma and Pa are already at the fairgrounds setting up for one of the charities they oversee. My brothers and their wives should be on their way and Cull, well, if I know him, he’ll sweep in fashionably ten minutes late. If you haven’t noticed yet, he’s never punctual.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea. I’ll feel like I’m intruding.” Her palms became sweaty at the mere idea of leaving the ranch. What if she ran into someone she knew and didn’t recognize them? What if the man who tried to kill her was there?
“Everyone in town will be there.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t. After all, you’re our guest.”
Upstairs, Kiersten led Monica to the chair at the vanity and she watched while the woman disappeared inside the walk-in closet. She heard hangers scraping metal and shoes hitting the wall until finally Kiersten popped out with clothes hanging over her arm and ho
lding a pair of brown leather boots. “I have the perfect outfit.”
Monica looked over the button-down shirt and the fringed shorts and her eyes widened. “There’s something you haven’t noticed about me,” she said softly.
“What’s that?” Kiersten asked.
“That I have some junk in the trunk. These might be a little too revealing.”
“Fine. I have another pair.” She hurried back into the closet and presented Monica with a longer pair, but they still could be classified as short.
“I’m not sure—”
“Honey, if I had a body like yours, I’d be sporting fitted clothing every day.”
“Are you kidding?” Monica couldn’t believe her ears. “You could be a model with your flawless skin, gorgeous smile and height.”
“Thank you, but I’m more of the gun packing, rope swinging, hog-tying type if you haven’t noticed. I’m afraid I’m allergic to photo-shop.” She dropped the clothes in Monica’s lap. “Now go change. We don’t want to miss the first rider.”
A few minutes later, Monica came out of the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror, then at Kiersten who was sprawled out on her bed. Her feet were up in the air and she was swinging them back and forth. She bounced off the bed and whistled through her teeth. “Girl, just as I said, you have more curves than a backroad. You look amazing.”
Tugging the shorts down her thighs, she shrugged. “Are the shorts supposed to fit like this?”
“Yes, but...” Kiersten swept over and grabbed the hem of the shirt, undid a few buttons and tied the material. By the time she was done working, a sliver of Monica’s stomach was exposed. “There. Now you look like a country girl. How are those boots? Do they fit?”
“Perfectly.” She did like the boots. “I don’t think I have the shape—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You look like you fit in. No one will have any clue that you don’t live around these parts. But first…” She reached for the straw hat from the hook on the wall and planted it on Monica’s head. “Now that completes the look. Cull will jump right out of his boots when he sees you.”
Sheltered by the Lawman (Lawmen of Wyoming Book 5) Page 10