Cowboy for Keeps

by Cathy McDavid

  “I have a good feeling about her and the bottling plant, Conner.”

  “Me, too.” He held Dallas’s chair for her, ran his fingertips along her bare shoulder, familiarly and affectionately, as if they were indeed a couple.

  When he asked her a short while later if she was ready to leave or wanted to dance again, Dallas chose the latter—just so she could enjoy floating in his embrace once more.

  It had been an altogether perfect evening. By the time they left, Dallas was more than ready to throw caution to the wind. If Conner tried to kiss her, she’d let him.

  And if he didn’t, she just might try and kiss him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Conner walked Dallas to her front door. He didn’t expect a repeat of the previous time—Richard showing up unexpectedly or the kiss. Despite the chemistry between them, she’d given Conner no indication whatsoever that she wanted to be more than friends and business associates.

  A shame. She really rocked that dress.

  A hug would be appropriate, he decided while she unlocked her door, and not out of line. He reached for her with open arms, only to find himself holding empty air.

  She stood on the threshold. “Would you like to come in for a bit? I can fix you a cup of coffee, or maybe you’d like a beer?”

  Come in? For a bit? “Yeah, sure. Just a cold drink if you have one.”

  “Soda or iced tea?”

  “Either’s fine.” He stepped into her town house, watching as she set her bag on an entry table and punched a code into the security alarm pad on the wall. The earsplitting screeching came to an immediate stop.

  “Ouch!”

  He looked down to find a small white cat clinging to his pant leg. Conner was afraid to move for fear the pinlike nails piercing his skin would go deeper. He’d learned his lesson with the cholla cactus.

  “Sorry.” Dallas bent and took hold of the tiny, fur-covered terror. “This is Snow White. She likes to play.”

  “Play?” Conner would hate to be in the cat’s way if she was mad.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Dallas gently pried the cat loose and it promptly turned on her. Okay, not turned on her. What he’d mistaken for aggression was actually affection. Wedging herself in the crook of Dallas’s neck, Snow White purred, loudly enough to disturb the people sleeping in the unit next door.

  “She’s a rescue animal,” Dallas explained, stroking the cat’s back. “I’ve only had her a couple of months. We’re still working on her social skills. She’s young and thinks everyone wants to play.”

  “It figures, the first time I meet her I’m not wearing boots.”

  Dallas laughed. “Do you like cats?”

  “My mom and sisters always had them.” He gave Snow White’s head a scratching, which revved up her purring. “They always seemed to like me more than I liked them.”

  “I can see why.” Something not quite definable flashed in Dallas’s eyes. “You have nice hands.”

  His pulse instantly spiked. That was definitely not a friends-only signal.

  She turned away, making him wonder if he’d misread her. “Over here’s Sleeping Beauty.”

  One of those carpeted cat condos stood in the corner of the room. On the top perch, a hugely fat, striped cat slumbered. It didn’t even crack an eye open when Dallas set the little white cat on a lower perch.

  “I’ve had her three years. She was my first rescue. I’d love to have a dog, but my schedule’s too hectic. Cats are easier.”

  Dallas led the way to the kitchen, where she produced two cans of diet soda from the fridge, offering one to Conner. “Would you like a glass and some ice for that?”

  “Don’t bother.” He popped the top on the can and took a swallow. “It’s nice to meet the family.”

  “Oh, that’s not everyone.”

  On cue, a dusty-gray cat appeared from around the corner. Seeing Dallas, he ran for her, meowing like crazy.

  “This is Charming.” Dallas stood at the counter while the cat wove around her legs in a continual figure eight pattern. “He’s the lover of the bunch.”

  “I see that.”

  The cat abruptly stopped, gave Conner a rather disdainful once-over, hissed, and then resumed lavishing affection on Dallas.

  “Apparently he’s only charming with you.”

  Dallas frowned in puzzlement. “That’s odd. He’s usually friendly.”

  “He must not like the suit.”

  “Well, I like it.” She smiled, that undefinable emotion twinkling in her eyes again.

  Conner distracted himself with another swallow of soda. “You have any other cats waiting to pounce on me?”

  “Three’s my limit. And I only adopted Snow White because she was on the euthanasia list at the county pound. A friend contacted me and asked me to foster her. Temporarily. You can see how that’s going.”

  “Helping animals is your passion. I admire you. I’d have been surprised if you didn’t have a houseful of pets.”

  “Glad to know I didn’t disappoint.”

  Conner had the impression he’d passed some sort of test.

  “Sit?” She moved toward the table.

  He beat her to it and pulled out her chair.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “We’re not at the Phoenician anymore.”

  “My mom was a stickler for manners. Drilled them into me and my sisters at an early age.”

  “Give her my regards. She did a good job.” Dallas waited for him to join her before saying, “I admire you, too.”

  “For my manners?” He removed his suit jacket and slung it over the back of his chair.

  “For making the best of lousy circumstances. The last six months can’t have been easy for you. A lot of people would have buckled under, collected unemployment compensation, let the bank repossess their house. You didn’t. You’re a fighter.”

  Few people spoke frankly to Conner about the financial ramifications of being laid off. They preferred to tiptoe around the subject for fear of embarrassing or offending him. Her praise for his efforts to salvage what pride he had left made him feel good—confident and capable—when nothing else had lately.

  “That means a lot to me.”

  “Things will be different starting Monday. Your life is about to change.”

  “Sunday Givens and the Sonoran Bottling Plant.” He could still hardly believe it.

  “Are you going to quit working with the wild mustangs?”

  “I haven’t gotten the job yet.”

  “Don’t think like that!”

  She was right. He had to be more positive. “No, I’d like to stay involved with the sanctuary, if only on my days off.”

  She nodded.

  He felt as if he’d passed another test. “I owe you.”

  “Me? You’re the one who impressed Sunday.”

  “You’ve pushed me. Cheered me on. Encouraged me. Not just through pep talks but by setting an example. The longer I’ve been away from the corporate world, the harder it is for me to put myself out there.”

  “You bring a lot to the table, Conner. Professionally and personally. Anita told me tonight that Leeza made a big mistake leaving you. I agree with her.”

  “Leeza wanted different things from our relationship.”

  “Leeza didn’t love you. Not enough and not like you deserve to be loved.”

  “I might have dodged a bullet with her.”


  “Might have?” Dallas smiled brightly, then shyly. “I won’t say I’m unhappy you’re single again.”

  That was all it took. Desire hit Conner with the force of a head-on collision. He wanted her. Like no other woman before. Wanted her so desperately, he couldn’t be trusted alone with her a moment longer.

  “It’s getting late.” He stood, his legs weak at the knees, and removed his jacket from the chair. “I should leave.”

  “All right.” She walked with him to the living room. Before they reached the door, she stopped him with a hand on his arm and a soft, “Wait.”

  “Did I forget something?”

  “Only this.” She lifted her lips to his and brushed them lightly across his mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

  Fire exploded inside him. He dropped his jacket, grabbed her by the shoulders and held her in place against him. “If I kiss you back, I won’t stop there.”

  “Do you want to kiss me back?”

  He groaned. “You have no idea.”

  “I think I do.” She placed her palm on his cheek, angled her body closer to his and inhaled as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

  Before tonight, Conner hadn’t considered himself good enough for Dallas. It wasn’t just the potential job with Sonoran Bottling that had him reconsidering. It was her belief in him.

  “Kiss me,” she said, her eyes closing in anticipation. “I want to taste you.”

  He abandoned all control. Covering her mouth with his, he let the fire burning inside him consume them both.

  * * *

  DALLAS’S HANDS FRAMED Conner’s face as he encircled her waist and took possession of her. They fit perfectly, their closeness generating an incredible heat.

  She moaned, curled her fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. His body, highly responsive to her every move, went rigid.

  Did she have any idea what she was getting into? He anchored her hips to him so there would be no doubt.

  Gasping softly, she pulled away. “Give me a second.”

  He was coming on too strong. Scaring her off. “Dallas, I—”

  She kicked off one shoe, then the other. “Much better.”

  Much better indeed.

  They found each other again and kissed hungrily. His hand snaked underneath her dress and skimmed her smooth thigh.

  “Mmm.” She pushed more material aside.

  It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. His fingers climbed till they found the edge of her panties, where they toyed with the elastic leg band.

  “Take this off,” she murmured, tugging at his tie.

  “Let me.” The tie landed on the floor beside his jacket.

  She undid the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing the patch of hair above the V-neck of his undershirt. Smiling with delight, she lightly caressed him, her nails scraping his fevered skin.

  Conner was quickly approaching the point where going back would be impossible. He called on the one tiny sliver of responsibility that remained. “We don’t have to do this. It’s up to you.”

  “Make love to me. Please. It’s what I want and what I think you want, too.”

  He did want it. With an intensity that stripped his emotions to their very core.

  “What about the baby?”

  “The baby will be fine. As long as you’re gentle.”

  “I won’t hurt you. Either of you.” He’d die first.

  She undid two more buttons. His arms shook from the effort of restraining himself.

  “There’s something you need to know. Before this goes any further.” He gulped air, feeding his starving lungs. “I...care about you.”

  Conner’s feelings were more complicated than that, but he wasn’t ready to express them. As it was, he could hardly form simple sentences.

  “I know. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you inside, much less into my bedroom.” She grinned wickedly. “Unless you’d rather make love right here on the living room floor.”

  He bent and lifted her in his arms.

  She laughed, light and melodious. The sound galvanized him.

  “The bedroom. For the first time. After that, I’ll make love to you anywhere in the house. Any room, on any piece of furniture. As many times as you want.”

  Her brows rose. “I just might take you up on that.”

  Now it was his turn to grin wickedly. “Which way?”

  He carried her down the hall and into the master bedroom. Enough light shone in for him to make out the bed. He headed straight for it.

  He set Dallas down on the mattress, following her as she lay back on the quilted spread, arms stretched over her head. She looked like a dream in the pale, pale light. Sensuous and alluring.

  “You’re incredible.” He reached for her dress, slipping it slowly up her thighs.

  “Wait one minute.” She stayed his hand.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “You first,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes.

  Was she shy? She hadn’t been till now.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured.

  “Easy for you to say. Your body isn’t changing on you every day. Becoming rounder and softer and...different.”

  “I like rounder and softer and different.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  He tilted her chin until her gaze met his. “You’re beautiful, Dallas, and sexy as hell.”

  “I still want you to go first.”

  “Gladly.” He released her and yanked his dress shirt and undershirt from the waistband of his trousers. His belt came next. Then his boots and socks.

  “Let me.”

  Rising onto her knees, she removed his dress shirt, peeling it off him much like the night in his apartment when she helped him with the cholla stickers. With one barrier gone, she let her fingers glide over his biceps, murmuring admiringly. Finally, she removed his undershirt, sliding it over his head and tossing it aside. Her eyes sparked, reflecting her appreciation as they traveled down his naked torso, and then turned dark.

  She sighed. “I can’t not touch you.”

  The sensation of her fingers on his chest was like warm silk. Her lips, dropping light kisses in the wake of her fingers, seared his skin.

  “I want to go slow.” She returned to his mouth, covered it with hers.

  What she wanted to do was kill him by slow torture.

  He unfastened his trousers. She unzipped them. Her hand made contact with his erection through his briefs. A current of pure electricity shot through him.

  “Dallas, I...” She wasn’t making this easy. “I don’t have any condoms. Wasn’t planning on this. Us.”

  She swept his hair from his eyes, the gesture tender. “It’s a little late to worry about birth control.”

  “Not that. I’m healthy. I promise. But you shouldn’t take any risks. Not with the baby.”

  “Thank you for being considerate. I have some. Left over—”

  “Where?”

  “In the nightstand.”

  He opened the drawer and found enough packets that they could try out two more places besides the bed, if Dallas had the inclination and he the strength.

  He hastily removed his trousers and briefs. Naked at last, he stood before her.

  She lowered herself onto her calves and stared. With each passing second, he grew harder.

  “You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

  A lifetime of sports, rodeoing and breaking horses had left thei
r marks on him, good and bad. He hoped his toned muscles made a better impression than his scars.

  Evidently so. She skimmed her fingers over his stomach, let them drift upward through the hair on his chest. Stopping over his heart, she laid her palm flat and exhaled slowly.

  “Dallas.” He placed his hand atop hers, incapable of saying more than her name. For several moments, they didn’t move.

  “I want you, Conner,” she whispered. “Do you understand?”

  He did. Because he wanted her to the very center of the heart both their hands covered.

  “Show me,” he told her.

  She reached for his erection.

  “No. Not that. Show me you.”

  After a moment, she nodded and presented her back to him. “Unzip me.”

  He did, his fingers fumbling.

  The slinky dress came away, like the petals of a flower opening to the sun.

  She wore some sort of one-piece bra and panty combo that was made of the sheerest material Conner had ever seen. It left little—and everything—to the imagination. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to take it off.

  Then she did, squirming out of it in a seductive dance that sent his blood coursing through his veins.

  When she finished, she sat on the bed before him, her legs tucked under her, every vulnerable and voluptuous inch of her exposed.

  “You’re mine,” he said.

  “Always.”

  He wasn’t certain which one of them moved first. At the same moment Dallas drew him down onto the mattress, he covered her body with his, their mouths meeting in a hungry kiss, his hands already roaming.

  She arched, shifted, opened herself to him, and he committed every touch, every sound, every taste of her to memory. Her tiny moans and gasps of excitement were like a magic elixir, healing the ragged tears in his soul and making him whole again.

  He groaned when her fingers skimmed his ribs, and then cupped his buttocks. Lifting her hips, she rubbed herself against him. He shot like a rocket straight to the edge.

  She let go of him and reached for the condom.

  “Not yet.” Speaking required tremendous effort.