She bit her lower lip as she continued to stare out the window at Tyson. She didn’t know all the details of his past, but she knew enough to know it wasn’t pretty. His mother had run off when he was just a baby and his father drank himself into fits of rage. She’d been young when Tyson first arrived, but she could still remember the state he’d been in. It had looked like he’d been in an automobile wreck. There wasn’t a part of him untouched. He’d been on crutches, barely able to get around on them because of how badly his arm was hurt. That didn’t stop him. He came at the crack of dawn one morning and by afternoon was insisting he pull his weight.
Her father had paused that day and then nodded. She knew her father well and knew he’d wanted to tell Tyson to go up to the main house and rest and recover. Tyson would have refused and everyone knew it.
She pushed the white curtain to the side more, giving her a better view of Tyson. As her father’s foreman, he was around the house often. She’d thought she’d been prepared to see him again. Oh, how wrong she’d been. He’d somehow gotten even more handsome while she was away at school.
She tugged at the top of her lightweight cotton, pale green dress, suddenly feeling very warm even though the air was on in the house. She couldn’t look away from him as he turned. The black t-shirt he wore was snug-fitting, pulling at his toned upper body. She was sure it was the same one he’d been in the day before. And the jeans were fitted just right. She nearly moaned. Men in Boston lacked the appeal Tyson had. They weren’t tanned from working outside, and their muscles weren’t honed from bailing hay and manual labor. That type of work produced a certain type of body. One she found irresistible.
He laughed at something her father said and then nodded. He put a black cowboy hat on. Her father patted his shoulder and then turned back toward the house. She waited as her father made his way through the kitchen door.
“Starting work early today,” she said, shuffling her sandal covered feet back and forth.
“Darlin’, we’ve been up for hours.” He winked then motioned with his head to the window. “Look your fill?”
“What?” she asked, blushing.
“Tyson.” A smug look moved over her father’s face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you in here noticing him.”
“Daddy, no.” She fidgeted with the front of her dress. “I was just admiring the beautiful morning.”
He laughed long and deep. “Right. Had nothin’ at all to do with my foreman?”
She eyed her father and continued to flush. At forty-five he didn’t look old enough to have fathered her. His black hair had the faintest hints of white starting at the sides, the only indication of his age. She often refused to have friends over because they’d go on and on about how attractive her father was, making her gag.
“Daddy, I understand Tyson is your foreman and is totally off limits. Just like all guys are, in your opinion.”
He’d always been very strict about her dating. He used to tell her he’d rather she ran off and joined a convent than announce she was ever getting married. She’d always respected his rules. But truth be told, they were becoming harder and harder to abide by.
“Lexie,” he said slowly. “Tyson still hasn’t settled down.”
She sighed. “I get he’s a ladies’ man, Daddy. He’s just like his group of buddies. They’re always parading around town with new women of the week. I don’t need you to warn me.”
Her father moved past her to the refrigerator. He pulled out the pitcher of iced tea. He poured himself a glass and then set the pitcher on the counter. “I wasn’t warnin’ you, darlin’.”
She tipped her head. “Then why tell me?”
“To point out he’s not taken,” he said flatly. “Why don’t you take him out some tea and say your hellos?”
She swallowed hard. “I said hi to him yesterday. I was going to lay out by the pool and walked out to find him there by the fence, mending it.”
“How did that go?”
She leaned against the counter. “I don’t know. I guess the fence is fine.”
Her father snorted. “That wasn’t what I meant and you full-well know it. How did seeing Tyson again go? I know the two of you had a thing before you left.”
She gasped. “Daddy, Tyson and I have never had a thing.”
“I saw him kissing you back behind the stables.”
Her hand went instantly to her lower lip as she remembered the goodbye kiss he’d given her the day before she’d left for Boston. It had been a total surprise to her and the only kiss they’d ever shared. “It’s not like what you’re thinking. He was just saying goodbye.”
“That was some goodbye,” her father said with a wink. “I honestly thought you’d come tell me you didn’t want to go to school.”
She’d nearly done just that. “I needed to go away to realize how much I love it here.”
Her father inclined his head. “Figured as much. Your momma wasn’t from here.”
“I know,” she said. “I looked up my grandparents when I was in Boston.”
Her father stilled, his hand wrapped tightly around his glass of iced tea. “You didn’t mention that in any of your calls or letters.”
“I didn’t actually go and visit them,” she confessed. “I just looked them up to learn more about them. What I found, I didn’t much care for. And I know from your sister that none of them came in for Mom’s funeral.”
She’d been three when her mother passed and had no memories of it herself.
Her father sipped his tea and seemed far off in thought. It was a bit before he spoke. “They weren’t too happy with her settling in these parts and marryin’ a rancher.”
“Daddy, you’re worth millions.”
He shrugged. “Not the point. They had someone in mind for her and I wasn’t him. It broke her heart when they wouldn’t come in for our weddin’. Hurt her worse when they didn’t come when you were born.”
Lexie moved closer to her father. “It had to take all of you to let me go off to Boston.”
“It’s in your blood. You needed to see if you’d land there for good or not. I couldn’t make that choice for you,” said her father. “I’m glad you’re home and I hope it’s for good.”
She smiled. “I’m home for now.”
“You could marry Tyson and then stay for good,” he said. “It would be perfect. When I’m gone he’ll run things here anyways.”
She stared wide-eyed at him. “Daddy, did you just suggest I marry your foreman?”
“I did. What of it?”
“You hate the idea of me dating and wanted me to join a convent rather than get married.”
He laughed. “Well, that didn’t happen so Tyson is my backup plan. Get to gettin’ that boy some tea.”
She yelped as her father stuck his fingers in his tea and flicked some at her. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and the pitcher of tea. Laughing, she hurried out the back door. Turning, she sloshed the tea in an unladylike fashion and hiccupped with more laughter. She paused and looked up. Tyson was there watching her with a raised brow.
Her long, black hair fell forward, and she flicked her head to get it out of the way before composing herself and walking straight to him.
Do not fall. Do not make a fool of yourself.
The mantra played in her head on repeat. At some point, she was sure she had it all under control, right up until her sandal twisted under her foot and the pitcher went flying forward. She watched in horror as it splashed up and all over Tyson’s shirt, splattering the front of his jeans as well. He caught the pitcher before it would have hit the ground.
He held it out to her, his movements stiff. “Here. Dropped this.”
“Oh my heavens,” she squeaked. “I didn’t mean…I’m so…Tyson.”
His shirt clung to him, forming to each rippling muscle. She was sure she moaned. Who wouldn’t?
“You’re soaked,” she said in a slow breath. “And you’ll attract bees now.”
He pursed
his lips, looking as if he was trying to keep from laughing as he neared her. “Well, I am pretty darn sweet.”
She blushed. “Tyson, I’m sorry. Daddy said to take you some tea, not bathe you in it.”
“I’ve bathed in worse,” he returned, his gaze suggestive. “I was late rollin’ in this morning because of a long night. I can head over to my place, shower and change quick before I get back to checking the fences on the north side.”
She stilled, his words playing through her head. “A long night? Who with? Trisha Windmore?” The words felt like acid on her tongue.
Trisha and Tyson had history. Actually, Trisha and most of the men in Middlefield had history. She was as loose as they came and a favorite of the guys. It irritated Lexie to no end to know she was the type of woman Tyson went for. She’d heard Trisha bragging before, talking about all the crazy things Tyson liked to do in the bedroom. The things she’d said had shocked Lexie. Tyson wasn’t that way, was he?
He cocked his head to the side, his gaze intense. “That a jealous note I hear there, Lex?”
She jutted out her chin and yanked the pitcher free from his hands. “Hardly. I’ll let you get cleaned up and back to work. I was only bringing you something to drink because Daddy made me.”
She knew she sounded childish.
Tyson peeled off his soaked shirt making her mouth water and her knees weak. She hated how easy he could shake her to her core. His kiss was one she thought about often and compared others to. It had hurt her deeply when he’d pulled away years ago telling her the kiss was a mistake and she was just a child.
Gripping the pitcher for dear life, Lexie managed to keep control of her emotions even with his glistening chest within licking distance. “You should really be on your way, shouldn’t you?”
“Tryin’ to get rid of me so soon?” Tyson asked. “You didn’t seem to mind me here yesterday when you were runnin’ around in nothing but a barely there bikini.”
She huffed. “I wasn’t running around in it. I was going for a dip in the pool and you just happened to be here near the house. I didn’t plan that.”
“If you say so,” he returned, a cock-sure smile on his handsome face.
She entertained slapping it off him, but that would involve making contact, and that would be bad. She’d be tempted to offer herself up to him. He was a major weakness for her. Always had been.
Her time away had helped her somewhat. When she was younger, she’d have cried already. She wouldn’t now. Not over his quick comebacks and wet shirt. “Take the show that way,” she said, pointing toward his bunk house. “I’m not really interested.”
Liar.
Tyson blinked in surprise. His gaze raked over her slowly. “I’m thinking we’re not startin’ off well here.”
“We didn’t end well,” she reminded him.
“We never started,” said Tyson snidely.
Hurt, Lexie backed away, but didn’t dare tear up. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wouldn’t go back to being her. She pivoted and headed back toward the house. She made it about three paces before Tyson had hold of her upper arm. He spun her and she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind. His lips clamped over hers, cutting off her thought process.
Holy honey, the man could kiss.
She sank against him, sticky chest and all, his arms like steel behind her back, keeping her held to him. His tongue found hers and they wasted no time in mating. They went at it as hard and fast as she wanted the rest of them to be.
As he pulled back, she swayed. He kept hold of her, a grin on his face.
“Not to interrupt,” her father said.
She gasped and pushed on Tyson’s chest.
He didn’t let go.
Her father stood at the back porch smiling. “I’m headin’ down to Creek Bend to meet with Charlie about some bulls. I’ll be gone a day or two. You got things under control here, Ty?”
“Yes, sir,” Tyson said, watching her father intensely.
Her father winked. “That-a-boy.”
“Daddy,” Lexie protested. “You’re leaving? I’ll pack you. I’ll…”
Her father laughed. “Lex, I’ve been gettin’ along just fine with you up at school. I don’t need you lookin’ after me now. Enjoy your day with Tyson.”
Her eyes widened.
Tyson licked his lower lip. “Luther, would Ms. Simmons be joining you on this trip like she did the last?”
“Possibly,” her father responded. He laughed more as he went back inside.
Chapter Three
Twisting, she pushed harder on Tyson’s solid chest. “Let go of me.”
“Got a better idea,” he said. He bent and the next thing she knew she was over his shoulder, her feet kicking about madly. Tyson swatted her ass cheek a good one, making her yelp and go still. “That’s better. Now. Let’s continue this talk back at my place.”
Gulping, she stopped struggling as he carried her down the drive path near the horse run and then over to one of the ranch homes situated back there. He showed no signs of tiring from carrying her. It was as if she weighed nothing at all.
“Tyson,” she breathed out.
He stepped up and onto the screened porch. The screen door slammed shut behind them as he headed into the house. He kept going, right through the living room area and into one of the three bedrooms. She yelped again as he deposited her rather ungracefully onto the king-sized bed there. The red comforter was softer than it looked. Her skirt rode high, showing off her silk pink panties.
Tyson’s gaze snapped directly to them. He licked his lips. “Damn woman, I bet you taste like Heaven.”
“Tyson!”
“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “We’ve been dancin’ around this for years. If you don’t want me this way, say so now and I’ll walk you back to the main house. But, Lexie, know if you walk out that door I’m done chasin’ you.”
“Chasing me?” she asked. “You’ve never chased me. You have no interest in me that way.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Woman, are you blind?”
“What?”
He leaned over her, crowding her to the point she leaned back on the bed. Tyson simply crawled onto the bed over her. He met her gaze, his iced tea slicked body pressing against hers. “I went to Boston to bring you home.”
“You did not,” she whispered.
His gaze said otherwise. “I couldn’t do it, Lex. I couldn’t get myself to go over to that college when I was there and drag you away. You didn’t want to be here. You deserved better than here, better than me. I get that now.”
She touched his scruffy jaw line and inhaled his scent. It was there, masked by the tea, but evident all the same. It drove her mad with need and made her have to focus on her thoughts. “You really went to Boston?”
“Yep.”
“And you’re telling me you want me?”
He exhaled slowly. Even in the moment, he still was intimidating to a certain degree. He oozed alpha male. There was no question that even when he was letting his guard down, Tyson was still a full-blooded male, and this was about as soft as his soft side went. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Her bottom lip quivered. She tugged at the back of his neck and he lowered his head. Their lips met. The kiss was explosive. She melted against him, letting him lead, letting him make love to her mouth and claim it fully. She hated how weak she was to Tyson Morrows, but then again, he seemed mighty weak to her as well.
She smiled against his lips and he paused their kiss. His turquoise gaze held amusement. “You wouldn’t be grinnin’ if you knew what I wanted to do to you.”
“Tie me up and spank me,” she offered.
He stilled, a crease forming on his forehead. “What?”
She kept her hands on his shoulders. “People talk. A lot.” Tyson tried to pull away from her. She didn’t let him. “Stay.”
His eyelids fluttered shut and he turned his head. “You deserve more than this. More than me.
You’re fancy. I’m not.”
“Fancy?” she asked, nearly laughing as the word fell over her lips.
“You’re Boston.”
She did laugh at that. She was hardly Boston. When she’d been there she’d felt out of place and homesick. “Kiss me, cowboy.”
He seemed confused at first before putting his nose to hers. “But you’ve heard about what I like sexually.”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “You’re not the type of girl who likes to be spanked or tied up.”
“And how would you know? Maybe I’m totally into nipple clamps and getting flogged.”
His jaw set. “Who touched you? And how the hell do you know about clamps and floggers?”
“I didn’t live under a rock while in Boston.” She pinched his chin, getting far too much enjoyment out of his jealous look than she should.
She thought he might very well run from the room and straight to Boston to kick someone’s butt. “I want all the names. Now.”
“None to give,” she replied.
“Dammit, Lexie, I’m not playin’. Tell me who dared to touch you.”
With a roll of her eyes, she laughed softly. “I can read, Ty. I read about different kinky things. I’ve never done them.”
He eyed her. “What, exactly, have you done and with who?”
“Back to this?”
He gave a curt nod. “Yeah. We never left the topic.”
She hid her laughter. “No one has touched me.”
He relaxed somewhat, the crease in his brow smoothing out.
“Ty, I want you. All of you. The good. The bad. And the stubborn jerk.”
He huffed.
She kissed him, cutting off his protest. His hands found the front of her dress and she heard the fabric ripping. As much as she loved the dress and didn’t want it ruined, she wanted Tyson more. Wanted to know the feel of his hands on her bare skin and the feel of his body in hers.
She arched her back to him as cool air skated over her bare skin. His hands went to her bra. He tore it off as well.
His eyes held want and desire as he stared down at her. “So sexy,” he whispered, making her grin.
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