by T. J. Kline
“I don’t have anything for you tonight, girl.” She rubbed her hand over the mare’s velvety nose. The horse hung her head over Angela’s shoulder and she patted the mare’s neck. “You pretend that you’re so tough and unapproachable but you’re really just a sweetheart, aren’t you?” She pressed her cheek against the mare’s warmth.
“Reminds me of someone else I know.”
Angela jumped and spun around, surprising the mare, causing her to jump backward and snort as she bumped one of the geldings. “Stop doing that,” Angela whispered.
Derek chuckled softly. “Doing what?”
“You keep sneaking up on me,” she scolded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalking me.” Without a hat, in the faint pre-dawn light, he looked dark and mysterious, almost dangerous, and her heartbeat quickened.
He hooked his thumbs in the corner of his jean pockets. “Can’t sleep?”
She turned back to the mare, who had returned to the fence and was edging closer to Angela, and shook her head. “No, you?”
She sensed Derek moving closer, the heat from his body warming her through the quilt she pulled tighter around her shoulders. Fisting her hands, she tucked them inside the blanket to keep from reaching out to him. She ached to touch him, but after what had happened with their last kiss she was hesitant to take the risk.
His arms circled hers, over the blanket, and he laid his cheek against her hair before inhaling. She tried to convince her heart to slow down before she had a heart attack. Shivers of desire raced through her.
“Cold?”
She wanted to tell him she was burning up, that he’d ignited a flame in her she’d never known was lying dormant.
This wasn’t going to work.
She knew what she had to do, and it felt like someone was ripping her heart from her chest.
Angela bit her lower lip before she answered him. She could feel the tension emanating from him, in spite of his tenderness. “I told you I’m no good at this. We gave it one day and it was a disaster.”
“Angel . . .”
“No,” she said, turning in his arms to face him. “I didn’t lie to you, but neither of us is willing to let go of our distrust long enough to believe the other.” She tried to blink back the burning tears forming in her eyes. “It’s always going to be something, Derek.”
“Whose idea was it to change the story?”
She sighed and wondered if it really mattered at this point. “I realized there was no evidence for the animal cruelty angle pretty quickly, so I tried to convince the station to take the other angle, but they wouldn’t do it. Sydney came up with this new story idea.” She could see him searching her eyes for the truth, wanting to believe her but still uncertain.
“This is why there can’t be anything between us.”
She pulled away from him, starting toward the trailer, when he grasped the edge of the blanket and jerked her back into his arms. She stepped on the edge of the blanket and tripped, falling against him, knocking them both to the ground.
Derek’s chest shook with laughter. “So much for being romantic,” he teased. “At least I broke your fall.”
She loved the sound of his deep timbered laughter and couldn’t help but join him. She laid her cheek against the wall of his chest and giggled. These were the moments when she felt completely at ease with him, when nothing else in the world could quite reach them. She sighed. “You’re quite the charmer, dragging a lady into the dirt.” Angela wound her arms around his waist, savoring this brief moment, knowing it couldn’t possibly last.
“It was exactly what I meant to do,” he joked. Derek ran his thumb over her jaw and rolled so she lay beneath him, balancing his weight on his forearm under her neck. His eyes, black in the near darkness, grew serious. “I want to trust you.”
“Then trust me,” she pleaded. She reached her hand up to his rough jaw. “I don’t know why you think I lied.”
“Open book?”
She hesitated. Agreeing to be an open book with him would mean complete honesty. He could ask one of a million questions she didn’t want to answer about her past. But if they were going to take the next step, if she wanted to keep him in her life, she had to be vulnerable. “Open book,” she said, nodding.
“What’s going on between you and Joe?”
“Joe?” Of all the questions that must have been weighing on his mind, she was surprised he chose that one first. “Nothing. He’s my boss and runs the station. I told you we’ve been friends for years.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” His eyes probed hers, drawing the entire truth from the depths of her soul.
“We dated for a short time.” She wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened with Joe, but she wasn’t willing to lose what she could have with Derek for what would never be with Joe. “He thinks he loves me and I care about him but not the way I love . . .” Angela caught herself, realizing what she’d almost revealed. She couldn’t possibly have fallen in love with Derek in this short amount of time, could she? “I don’t love him the way he deserves to be loved.”
“And he knows it?” he asked.
“I’ve told him several times that I will never love him, and we are just coworkers and friends,” she swore. She lifted her other hand to his jaw, cupping his face between her cold fingers. “Open book.”
Derek stared down into her eyes, and she wondered if he was seeing whatever it was he was searching for. His body remained over hers, hovering between desire and self-preservation. She could feel the proof of his need against her lower stomach and she fought her own longing to arch against him.
“Angel, you’re lucky we’re sharing a trailer with my brother tonight.” His eyes gleamed in the faint light. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you otherwise.”
Hope began to blossom in her chest. Did that mean he believed her? Angela was certain Lady Luck wasn’t playing in her favor because, right now, she didn’t want him to keep his hands off her. She wanted those hands everywhere.
DEREK WOKE THE next morning with auburn hair splayed across his chest. Angela’s fingers were spread across his stomach under his t-shirt and his loins ached with unreleased desire. She lay curled against his side, her head resting on his chest with one hand fisted under her chin. Her lashes brushed against her cheekbones as he felt the urge to kiss her eyes open from slumber. He brushed her hair back from her face, loving the way it fell through his fingers like silk, landing over her shoulder.
He’d used every ounce of willpower he possessed to lay beside her in the wee hours of the morning and not touch her. It had nearly killed him to lie in bed with her, holding her, without tasting her sweet lips or allowing his fingers to glide over the satin skin of her back. Even now he felt his body cursing him for even contemplating slipping out of the bed before she woke. What he wouldn’t give to stay in bed with her all day.
As if responding to his presence, Angela sighed in her sleep and twined one leg with his, trapping him in place. He gave in and curled his arms around her, savoring the moment before reality chose to rear its head on their bliss. Within moments, Kassie began fussing in the next room and Derek knew either Scott or Sydney would be up. He wanted to save Angela the embarrassment of anyone seeing them sharing a bed, even platonically.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, her peach-vanilla scent shooting desire straight to his lower body. He cursed his response and dragged himself from under her hands, her fiery halo pooling around her head. He stood, shifting his jeans, trying to make them somewhat comfortable in his aroused state, and saw his brother standing with Kassie at the top of the stairs. Scott arched a brow and smirked but refrained from commenting as he reached for a bottle of water, warming it in a cup in the microwave.
“Aren’t you supposed to boil it on the stove? That’s how Sydney does it.”
“Aren’t you supposed to marry the girl before you sleep with her?” Scott countered.
Derek glared at his brother
. “You’re one to talk.” He glanced back at his Angel, still sleeping. “We both still have our clothes on.”
Scott chuckled and wiggled his brows. “There’s a lot of fun to be had, even with clothes on.”
“Nothing happened, Scott.”
“Then I’m disappointed in you,” his brother said, laughing quietly and cuddling with his daughter. “I remember those days with your mama.”
Derek shook his head and made his way out the door, pulling a flannel shirt over his t-shirt to ward off the chill that still hung in the air. He tossed alfalfa to the horses and hay to the cattle and checked on their water. He waved to Mike as he saw him coming out of the other trailer.
Mike yawned as he approached. “I need coffee.”
“Scott’s feeding Kassie right now, but I’m sure that’s next on his to-do list.”
“Did I see you sleeping in the back of the truck last night? I thought you were staying on Sydney’s couch?”
Derek nodded. “I was out here for a while then I went inside.”
Mike cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Mike. Just ironing out a few details.” Derek didn’t want to rehash his discussion with Angela when he wasn’t even certain what they had decided. He still wasn’t certain he wasn’t being used but he knew he couldn’t give her up. The rest they would try to figure out as they went along.
Mike looked at him for a moment longer then slapped his shoulder. “Then let’s get this show ready. It’s going to be a scorcher today.”
“Mike, what are we gonna do about Robert? I’m sure Angela is going to be busy with the news crew here.”
“What are you thinking?”
“We could always have him help behind the chutes, putting on wraps, moving stock, things like that. At least it would be easier to keep an eye on him.”
Mike stuck out his lower lip, contemplating Derek’s suggestion. “It’s not a bad idea. I’ve been talking to him a bit. He’s a good guy, Derek. I think there are some fences he and Angela need to mend, though. Speaking of Angela, any idea what her plans are after this weekend?”
Derek shrugged. “I know she said she’s getting some video this weekend behind the chutes and interviewing cowboys before and after. I think she’s planning on trying to interview the ones who hit the next rodeo, too.”
“Then she’s coming back with us?” The older man’s eyes gleamed mischievously.
Derek clenched his jaw, trying to hide his grin and nodded. “It looks that way. Are you happy with yourself?”
“Son, I only want to see you three kids happy. Whether you realize it or not, you’re happier with her.”
“In case you haven’t noticed it, we’re not kids anymore. I’d think you’d stop matchmaking by now. And I’m fine with things just the way they are.”
“No, you’re surviving, but that’s not living.” Mike glanced at Scott exiting the trailer, leaning forward to kiss Sydney. “And I’ll stop matchmaking when I make a mistake. So far I’m two for two with you kids, and I’m betting you make it three for three.” He winked and made his way toward Scott.
Chapter Eighteen
* * *
ANGELA PULLED SKIP to her side, pointing toward the cowboys settling on the back of the saddle broncs in the chute. She’d already interviewed most of them and was shocked to find out how many had been injured or hospitalized, but drove away, refusing treatment, in order to compete in the next rodeo a few days later. Mike reminded her that if they didn’t ride, they didn’t get paid. Angela knew from experience that hunger was a strong motivator.
“Head back there and stick that camera over the back of the chute or head up to the announcer’s booth and shoot down. I want it to look like we are seeing things from the cowboy’s angle,” she ordered. “Get as much of the sound as you can, too. Think ‘reality show.’”
Joe leaned back against the panels, looking bored. “Think we could hurry this along? You’re just repeating the same sorry tale over and over with a different cowboy. Got hurt, rode through it, ignored the paramedics, and went to the next rodeo.” He sighed. “All you’re proving is that these guys are idiots.”
Angela smiled at him sweetly, wishing he’d just head back to the station. He wasn’t helping and had complained all morning. “I know how busy you are, Joe. If you need to head back, I’m sure Skip and I can finish up today.”
“And leave you here with the Marlboro Man to get your heart broken?” He blew air between his lips. “I don’t think so. Besides, I’ll take your dad home with me tonight. It will make it easier on everyone.”
Angela bit her lip, wondering how to break it to Joe that she was taking her dad back to the ranch. Mike had already insisted they both come, and she wondered if he understood her predicament. Having her dad close would help her keep him safe, and it would be much easier to keep an eye on him if he was secluded from nearby bars. Mike was giving her an opportunity to do her job and keep her father safe—something Joe hadn’t been able to do while she was away. But Joe wouldn’t see it that way. He’d take it as a personal affront and a lack of confidence in him.
“Dad’s going to come to the ranch with me. He’ll be away from all the pressure at home.”
Joe cocked his head and rolled his eyes. “What pressure? Watching you go to work every day?”
Angela arched a brow at his sarcasm. “He’s coming with me to the ranch, Joe. I’ll be there until after the next rodeo. Then Skip and I will come back to the station and edit the footage.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You agreed to two weeks if I had a story, remember?”
Joe closed his mouth, his lips pinching into a thin line. She knew he was angry, but she wasn’t backing down this time. Now that she’d taken a bite of this story, she knew she was on the right track. It had every component to make it a feature story—good-looking cowboys, Western culture, danger, drama—it was sure to be a hit. Skip was convinced they would turn it into a series.
“Fine,” he snapped, pushing himself off of the panels, causing them to rattle loudly, ruining her shot. “Since you seem to have everything in order and don’t need me, I’ll just head up to the announcer’s booth and see what I can get up there.”
“Joe,” she called after him. She hated when he was angry at her, but he was being so difficult. It was just easier to let him go cool off. She sighed as he hurried away.
“He’ll cool off, Angela. I’ll get a better shot from the chutes.” Skip glanced over his shoulder and leaned back, trying to get a good look at the rough stock chutes. “I think if I can get behind the chute crew, it will give me a clear shot, and I’ll still get all the commotion down there. You’re gonna want that on camera.”
“Thanks, Skip. You really are the best cameraman around.” Skip frowned at her, looking at her as if she’d grown a third head. “What’s wrong?”
Skip shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. You know, that’s the first time you’ve ever given me a compliment.”
“No, it’s not.” She waved him off with the back of her hand. “You know I always request you for my location shoots.”
“Yeah, I know you do,” he agreed, “but you’ve never been this excited about a story. And you’ve never told me I do a great job.” He shrugged and lifted the camera to his shoulder. “It’s just nice to hear every once in a while. And it’s really nice to see you enjoying yourself for a change.”
Angela realized he was right. She wasn’t rude to her crew, but she’d never thought of them as people with feelings and needs. She’d seen them as pawns in her daily grind, to be ordered around, never giving any thought to the work they put in or how good they made her look. Her selfishness hit her square in the chest. While none of them ever complained, at least not when she was around, they certainly hadn’t been lining up to work with her. She’d been demanding and difficult and cold as ice. While it might have made her a good reporter, it made her a terrible person.
She reached for Skip’s elbow. “I’
m sorry, Skip. You’ve done so much for me and I should have never treated you the way I have. I . . .” She wasn’t sure what else she could say to make up for her pretentious attitude. There was no excuse for her actions. She shook her head and couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed, nervously. “I’m not sure what’s come over you with this story, but I kinda like this Angela. She’s a lot more relaxed.” Skip hurried up the stairs toward the chutes, immediately finding a spot to stand behind the cowboys where he could get video he wanted without being in their way.
She looked at the broad-shouldered cowboy guiding a bucking horse out of the arena. Derek was a big reason for the change in her. He was forcing her to release her need to be in charge, her desire to control every circumstance, and her tendency to squeeze every ounce of self-preservation out of situations. He was teaching her that vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, and others were noticing the gentleness he was drawing out of her. She liked the person she was becoming under his affection, even if she was afraid of her. She was letting go of the pain and bitterness that colored her every decision and relying on a newfound faith in the future.
Angela admired Derek from a distance as he focused on helping a rider onto the back of his mount, away from danger, and then setting him safely on his feet again. He didn’t realize it, but he was doing the same for her.
JOE FOUND ROBERT in the announcer’s booth and glared at him. “What the hell? You were supposed to tell her you wanted to go home, now you’re going back with her?”
“What difference does it make where I go?” He flipped his hand at the younger man irritably.
Mike had offered him this opportunity to help out by keeping track of the scores, and, while he hadn’t held a steady job since Angela was a little girl, he was surprised at the odd sense of renewal he felt. It made him feel like he had a purpose, at least for today. It had been a long time since he’d felt any desire to impress someone else, and he was grateful for the reminder of how it felt to be a provider instead of a burden.