Last of the Red-Hot Cowboys

by Tina Leonard

  Enough to make him slip his gun into his holster, grab a beer, and head back down to the pond to keep an eye on the girls from a distance. Not to keep an eye on Ava’s sweet, firm body—no. Not at all.

  Well, maybe a little.

  Prince was diving off the pier and the girls were egging him on, praising him like he was one of the Flying Wallendas. The dog was a greedy attention suck, but Trace had to admire how successful he was at it. He sank onto the ground and opened his beer.

  It was a beautiful night to swim, not to mention a great night to snag a ride in a truck bed. He had to tell Ava that she’d had a stowaway, though it would probably freak her out a little. Eli was harmless, but no woman was going to be comfortable learning that a man had stolen a ride in her truck.

  He wasn’t comfortable with it, either. Maybe he’d also mention the matter to Steel.

  “What are you doing?” Ava demanded, and Trace realized she’d spotted him sitting in the pines. “Why are you spying on us?”

  “I’m not spying,” he called back. “I’m … standing guard.”

  “There’s nothing to guard.” Ava got out of the water, walked toward him, her skin glistening and dripping in the moonlight. He sucked in a breath, warning himself not to stare at any part of her body that would get him into trouble. Big trouble.

  Suddenly, he understood exactly how Steel had felt when he was in the doghouse with Judy.

  She stopped in front of him, and he looked up at her.

  “You can’t spy on us. Just because we’re using your pond doesn’t give you the right to be a creeper.”

  He nodded. “True enough.”

  “So why are you doing it?” She glared at him.

  “I was keeping an eye on my dog. Making sure he’s not making a nuisance of himself.”

  Oh, sure, he reprimanded himself. Blame the dog.

  “Blaming poor Prince is hardly honorable. What if we’d been skinny-dipping?”

  His throat went tight. “Well, the honorable answer is that I wouldn’t have looked. The truth is probably less heroic.”

  “Well, can you go away? This is our last night to be able to do this.”

  His gut tightened. “Why? My pond is always available.”

  “Look. I don’t want to argue with you. Just go away, all right?” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Not to be ungrateful or anything, because we’re really enjoying your place and your drinks and your dog.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Are you going to keep sitting there?”

  “Will it help if I sit ten feet back?”

  She sighed. “Okay. Why are you sitting here? It can’t be any fun for you.”

  “I’m just looking at the pretty girls in their bikinis. Not many men have this view.”

  She made a face that, thanks to the moonlight, he could see clearly, a cross between disgust and disappointment. “You’re kind of lost since your brothers left, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

  She thought he was lonely, a pity case. Maybe it was a good idea to lean on that. He didn’t want to tell her right now about Eli; later, when she wasn’t enjoying an innocent night with her friends. “I’m a little lost, maybe. Do me a favor and don’t skinny-dip tonight, all right?”

  “That’s bad, Trace.”

  “What?” He looked up at her. “Oh, I didn’t mean because of me. You can skinny-dip all you want, if you don’t mind me watching.”

  “Pathetic,” she said.

  “A bit,” he said cheerfully.

  “Go.” She pointed at the house. “Please.”

  “Fine.” He rose. “Deny a man a good time.”

  She shook her head. “Again, pathetic.”

  “Yeah, well. What can I tell you.” He leaned toward her, capturing those sassy lips with his. Waited to see what she would do, was so rocked when she kissed him back. It was over much too fast. “Now go away.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He backed up. “I’m going. But do me a favor.”

  “Maybe. Doubtfully.”

  “When you get ready to call it a night, let me know.”

  “Why?”

  He let his gaze skim over the tiny bikini bottoms and the top which stretched across breasts he knew too well, reminded himself he wasn’t supposed to look. “I’ll walk you to your truck.”

  “We’ll be fine. You can turn off your inner bodyguard for the night.”

  “Humor me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want a Saturday Night Special.”

  He looked at her warily. “You mean like what Steel is to Judy?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good. I don’t either. Get me when you leave.” He headed back to the house before he looked—hell, before he touched. No mortal man could easily resist tugging those tiny bottoms off Ava’s sexy buns and kissing them, plus every other inch of her soft skin.

  “Wait.” She stomped after him, tapped the holster at his back. “What the hell is that?”

  “A gun.”

  “Since when do you wear one of those?”

  “When I need to.” He turned to walk away, and she grabbed him again.

  “What’s going on, Trace?”

  He was going to drown in those big eyes. He certainly never seemed to retain a plan around her. “I saw Eli Larson get out of your truck bed a while ago.”

  She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. He’s harmless, but you want to check before you drive your truck from now on.”

  “So you weren’t spying on us,” she said slowly. “You really were trying to protect us.”

  “I’m not a hero,” he said quietly. “You’re right to think the worst of me a lot of times. I let you down, Ava.”

  “I know.” She didn’t seem surprised by his admission. “I know you can be a rat, but I also know you’re one of the kindest men I’ve ever known. Thanks for trying to keep an eye on us without spoiling our fun. I’m sorry I hopped all over you.”

  “It’s all right. Like I said, I’m not really hero material.”

  She looked at him a long moment, then turned and walked down to the water, jumped in to join her friends. Prince circled in the water, barking joyously.

  And Trace went back to sit in his den with an erection that wasn’t going away anytime soon.

  Obviously.

  Because Ava had clearly decided that last Saturday night had been their last.

  Chapter Twenty

  At three o’clock in the morning, according to the clock radio beside his bed, Trace was awakened by giggling. He peered into his den, seeing three wet women and an uber-wet dog crawling onto his sofas. Three of them appeared to be tipsy. Prince the traitor dog was clearly happy as hell to have been part of the late-night swimfest.

  “Trace!” Ava said, attempting a whisper.

  “Right here.” He walked out in his blue jeans, sans shirt, and the women’s eyes widened.

  “We’re leaving now,” Cameron said.

  “No you’re not. There’s two showers down the hall if you want to use them. You’ll find a couple of guest bedrooms, or if you prefer, those sofas are really great for sleeping. Nobody’s leaving here tonight.” He whistled, and Ava stared at him. Prince ran to his side.

  “Come on, you wet, conniving animal. You’re getting a rinse and a towel-off. Goodnight, ladies.”

  He put Prince in his shower, rinsing him with tepid water, then drying him. “You lie on this towel, and do not move. And quit smiling,” he told Prince. “You’re not the only one who likes it when she’s around.”

  He cleaned out the shower and climbed back into bed, stunned when he came into contact with a warm, soft, naked body.

  Ava. Thank God. “I thought you said you weren’t looking for a Saturday Night Special.”

  Ava placed a cool hand around the hard-on he’d been carrying for the past week. “It’s Sunday morning.”

  “True.” He closed his eyes as she began a pleasing tugging, massaging motion. “You’re driving
me mad.”

  “I don’t mean to.”

  “Yeah, you do.” He groaned, feeling his balls tightening. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

  “They showered and grabbed the other two beds. I didn’t shower. You were busy with Prince, so I got in your bed to get warm.”

  He was going to come in her hands any second. She kissed his neck, tantalizing him, and it would have taken more hero than he possessed to remind her that she’d told him not three hours ago that this wasn’t what she wanted, or that she was maybe a little tipsy and might regret this tomorrow.

  But her hands were driving him absolutely insane, and besides, he’d warned her he was no Prince Charming. “Come here,” he said, glad as hell to discover that she was buck naked when he dragged her into his arms. He crushed her butt against him, holding her against the erection she’d tweaked into red-hot heat, slipped a finger inside her sexy, wet warmth. She moaned, and he felt her muscles quiver against his hand.

  No, he was no hero.

  Grabbing a condom from his nightstand, he rolled on top of her, pressing her into the sheets with his weight, aching to get rid of the need she aroused in him. “You’re sure you want this?”

  She gazed up at him, pulled his hips toward her, fitted him to her. “Yes.”

  She didn’t sound tipsy at all now. She sounded breathless and wanting.

  “God, Ava.” Holding her butt cheeks hard, he entered the soft hotness she offered him. Felt himself right at the edge of mind-bending pleasure. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  She stroked his back, wrapped her legs around him, pulling him all the way inside. “Funny, but I feel the same way.”

  He kissed her, taking his time with her sweet lips. She tasted like something grape, and then he remembered he’d put grape wine coolers in the fridge by the pond. “I missed the hell out of you,” he said, rocking into her, taking his time but afraid he might lose control any second.

  “Just make love to me,” she said.

  Something was off, something he couldn’t put his finger on. But the pleasure was screaming, tearing him past the point of reason, and her soft warmth was waiting, a haven he’d never had in his life, not like this. Trace heard her whispering something sweet that sounded like, “Come inside me,” and he did, falling into her arms as fiery release burst through him.

  He lay in Ava’s arms panting, gasping, wondering if he’d died and gone to heaven. She stroked his back. It was never going to be enough, never.

  He pulled her up, carried her into the bathroom, shooed Prince out. Discarded the condom, set her in the shower. Ran the shower hose all over her, teased her delicate mound with it, just a little, just enough to hear her gasp. Soaped her, washed her hair, loving the fact that she let him. Kissed her breasts, suckling them to his heart’s content. Finally getting to have her, after dreaming of her all week.

  Kissing her lips, he gently toweled her off, licking between her legs as he did, teasing her so she’d know what was coming. He carried her to bed, put her on her stomach so he could kiss her butt cheeks the way he’d wanted to all night. “You just about killed me in that bikini. I wanted to do this to you,” he said, running his tongue along the curves he encountered. Then he turned her over. “And this.” He licked her into tight hardness, spread her with his tongue. Kissed her over and over again, finally satisfying himself with every kiss. Every day away from her had been an eternity.

  When she came, she came hard, covering her face with her pillow and flooding him with sweet passion. Then, he took his time entering her, wanting to hear her gasp his name, beg him. “Slow, baby,” he said. “I’m not rushing this.” Stroking her, filling her, he held Ava close, feeling her shudder and shiver as another wave of pleasure hit her.

  “Trace,” she said, sounding like she was finally where he was, desperate for release, so he buried deep inside her, kissing her, whispering to her, encouraging her to come with him inside her, because he wanted to feel her pleasure. He stroked her passion-tightened bud and she grabbed his shoulders, clenching hard everywhere, crying out her pleasure. She held him tight, so tight, and Trace let himself finally find the release he’d been aching for since the day he’d met her.

  I’m never going to get over her.

  It was all wrong—and maybe that’s why he wanted her so much.

  * * *

  “That’s just the way it goes with women,” Steel said when Trace went around to his office on the square Monday morning. “You can’t live with ’em, you can’t live without ’em. You don’t even want to try to live without ’em.”

  “She’d just told me she didn’t want to be a Saturday Night Special.” Trace shook his head. “She’s not cut out for a casual relationship.”

  “And yet—”

  “Probably the liquor. Or maybe some misplaced gratitude toward me for looking out for them. I’m no hero, as I’ve tried to tell her.”

  Steel grinned. “You’re going to fall right into Judy’s trap. You already have. Before you know it, you’ll be altar-bound.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” Through the wood mini-blind slats, he saw Eli Larson walking across the square. “I’ll be right back.”

  He caught up to him. “Eli, I need to talk to you.”

  “Talking’s overrated, dude.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes. Anyway, I saw you getting out of Ava Buchanan’s truck last night.”

  Eli looked perplexed. “So? A man’s got to have a ride.”

  “True, but I think Ava would have been a bit surprised to see you in her truck without your asking permission.”

  “How else am I supposed to get around? I always hitch rides.”

  “You have to ask,” Trace said, explaining slowly and gently. The man was a Vietnam vet; he deserved respect. But he also had to understand that not everybody was as tolerant as they’d long been in Hell.

  And that was a bit of the problem. In a town of less than two hundred people, counting the far county, they’d grown accustomed to Eli. Considered it their duty to allow him to live his life the way he needed to.

  Trace shook his head. “Eli, do you know anything about white chicken feathers at Judy’s?”

  Eli smiled, and Trace was a bit pained to see the two newly missing teeth. “I put them there. It’s a gift for Miss Judy. The lady who gave them to me said they were real special.”

  Trace nodded. “And they are real special. Who was the lady?”

  “I don’t know.” Eli furrowed his brow. “All I know is that they were real pretty, like Miss Judy. And white, like her hair.”

  “Yes. Would you happen to know anything about chickens at the judge’s ranch?”

  Eli’s brow furrowed again as Steel caught up to them, glancing from Eli to Trace quizzically.

  “No. Don’t know about chickens at Judge Rory’s place.” Eli shook his head. “Are they white and pretty?”

  “No. They’re black. Pretty, but not the same as Miss Judy’s hair.” Trace sighed. “Thank you, Eli.” He pressed a ten-dollar bill into the man’s hand. “I want you to take this and go into Miss Hattie’s and get something good to eat. Give this money only to Miss Hattie, okay?”

  Eli nodded as he headed into the Rolling Thunder.

  “What’s going on?” Steel asked.

  “Eli put the white feathers on Judy’s porch. It was a ‘special gift.’ ”

  “Oh,” Steel said. “Judy will be relieved it was Eli who left them.”

  “Yeah. And I saw him sneaking a ride in Ava’s truck last night. I’m not sure he quite has the concept of asking someone if he can hitch a ride, so I’ll just mention to Ava that she might want to check her truck bed when she’s going places.”

  “And the other ladies. They’re not used to our ways here.”

  “Tell me about it. See you tonight at Redfeathers, Sheriff.” He got in his truck and headed back to the training center, thinking about Ava. When did he ever think about anything but Ava? Talking to Steel had been comforting but not useful. She’d
simply gotten under his skin and burrowed into his heart.

  And he wasn’t sure how to get her out.

  Just when he’d thought he was going to have to accept losing her, she’d walked back in and shattered his resolve.

  As his friends had noted, he’d done everything possible to set himself free. And only ended up driving himself mad.

  But something had to give. She wasn’t getting the one thing she’d come to Hell for, and eventually, that was going to be a problem.

  He slumped in his desk chair, staring at the miles of paperwork that had built up since Declan and Saint had deserted him. Traitors, that’s what they were. Watching him suffer with glee, plotting to help him fall for Ava, and then hotfooting it far away from Judy’s plans.

  Her tentacles, more like.

  The fan, sitting at the top of the horse stalls, blew a nice breeze overhead. An occasional whicker could be heard from the horses, but now that it was afternoon, they’d settled into a sort of quiet siesta. In this heat, they were perkiest in the mornings. Afternoons and nights in Texas were too darn hot to be perky.

  Though Ava had been so perky last night. He’d never seen that coming.

  And then, this morning, he’d awakened to find his bed empty, with only Prince grinning up at him. Prince wasn’t telling any of Ava’s secrets, but Trace figured she’d hustled out before dawn to work her horse out at Steel’s. He could have asked around, but frankly, he’d just wanted Steel’s advice on the whole Saturday Night Special problem.

  It worked for Steel and Judy, but he completely understood why Ava didn’t want a casual relationship. Hell, he didn’t want a casual relationship.

  He didn’t want any relationship at all.

  That was such a lie he rejected it without his subconscious having to call him out. The thing was, he hadn’t planned for this. Knew very well why he didn’t want a woman in his life. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ava.

  It was troubling. And fun as hell. Put a lot of spice and kick into a life that had become a bit routine.