Cowboy Untamed

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “That takes care of that.” Sapphire rounded the corner of the barn holding a stack of bowls. “I thought I’d be done before you got here.”

  He pushed himself away from the truck and walked toward her. “No worries. Do you feed them every night?” She looked even prettier than he remembered—wavy auburn hair pulled back on one side with an elaborate silver comb, exotic earrings that dangled to her shoulders, a low-cut peasant blouse and a brightly patterned skirt that reminded him of gypsies.

  “We feed them every night and every morning. We rotate weeks and this happens to be mine.” She tipped her head toward the double doors at the entrance. “Come on in. I need to wash these and then I’ll help you unload your equipment.”

  “Thanks. That would be great.” He caught the spicy scent of her perfume, the same one she’d worn when they’d met three weeks ago. He breathed it in and all his hopes and dreams came flooding back. “So everyone pitches in to feed the strays?” He wondered if she liked to dance. Even if she wasn’t much for dancing, they could get out on the floor and do the shuffle-and-sway routine to a slow tune so he could hold her.

  “They’re not exactly strays. Can you please catch the door for me?”

  “Sure thing.” He hurried to do it, berating himself as he slid the barn door open. He’d been so busy making plans for tonight that he’d forgotten his manners.

  “You can check out the new pieces on display while I wash these.”

  “You have a sink?”

  “During the renovation we put in a small bathroom and a tiny kitchen.” She gestured toward the row of stalls. “Go ahead and look around. I left on the lights so you could see the new stuff. Everyone’s getting ready for the big weekend. Lots of good work.”

  “Sounds great, but I’d be glad to help you with the cat dishes.” Even in high school he’d been fascinated by her turquoise eyes. He’d never asked her out, because he’d been busy denying his own artistic leanings. He’d had a feeling she could see who he really was and he hadn’t been ready to acknowledge that yet.

  She smiled. “It’s a one-person job. Go ahead and browse.”

  “Okay.” But he sure hated to leave those eyes and that smile. He thought about both as he walked down the aisle between the stalls. Although he glanced at the artwork along the way, all he really cared about tonight was Sapphire’s pottery.

  Three weeks ago Cade had bought a vase of hers that Grady would have given his eyeteeth for. But the trip had been for Cade and so he’d scored the vase. Grady was curious as to what else she’d added to her collection since then.

  Her display was conveniently located next to the large stall that would be his for the next several days. He stepped into the space and sucked in a breath. During his first visit here he’d noticed the sensuality of her work, and the newest pieces were even more dramatic, especially her dinnerware set.

  The saturated colors and undulating lines of the single place setting made him wonder what sort of orgy the two of them could have with food served on these dishes. Picking up a red bowl with a dark purple interior, he cradled it in both hands and ran his thumb over the pebbled rim. The bowl was a tactile and visual feast.

  Her potter’s wheel stood in the corner ready for the next project, and he wanted to be there to see if her expression while creating was as passionate as the work itself. If she’d had an erotic nature back in high school, he’d totally missed the clues.

  Not surprising. He’d been an insecure idiot back then, but he’d changed and so had she. He’d embraced his true calling and had finally realized that testosterone and art weren’t mutually exclusive. Obviously, she’d grown out of her timid phase.

  “That collection’s new.”

  He turned to find her standing in the opening that used to be the stall door. He’d been absorbed in his plans and hadn’t heard her footsteps. “It’s sexy.”

  “You’re not the first person who seems to feel that way.” Her gaze met his and for a moment there was a flash of heat. Then she looked away and studied the colorful dinnerware. “I put that place setting out yesterday and I can already tell it startles people.”

  “Why?” His blood warmed as he registered the interest he’d seen in her eyes. This could turn into an excellent evening.

  “The colors seem to make them nervous. They’re also thrown for a loop when I explain that each place setting’s slightly different. Most people expect their dinner dishes to match. It’ll take a certain kind of customer.”

  Like me. But buying her pottery right off the bat might brand him as a suck-up. He would get some eventually and, if everything turned out the way he’d like it to, they’d enjoy a meal together, preferably naked.

  He gestured toward the wheel. “You obviously work here.”

  “Yep. I visualized this as a combination studio and gallery from the beginning. Not everyone spends as much time here as I do, but I love it. The concrete floor is easy to clean and nobody cares if it gets stained. I have a kiln out back. Best conditions I’ve ever had.”

  “The venue makes a difference.” He glanced at the large stall where he’d be setting up. “Looks like we’ll be neighbors.”

  “Uh-huh. I like being in the back. Earlier this summer I considered moving into what’ll be your space but I didn’t, which is a good thing. Ready to unload your truck?”

  “You bet.” He set the bowl down with great care. His work was nearly indestructible but hers could be a victim of gravity. He didn’t want that on his conscience.

  He hauled in the big stuff—odd pieces of scrap metal and unusual gears and machine parts that he scavenged from anywhere he could find them. The hunt was part of the fun, although he didn’t have as much time for it as he used to. Friends had volunteered to comb junkyards for him and Liam was always on the lookout for interesting finds.

  Sapphire carried in a box of welding equipment. “Where do you want this?” She stood in the middle of the spacious stall with her arms full.

  “In the corner’s okay for now. I’ll set up everything tomorrow. Have you had dinner?”

  “Um, no.” She put the box down and turned back to him. Instead of looking eager, she seemed wary. “But I’d planned to head home and catch up on some paperwork.”

  Not the response he was hoping for. “How about taking some time to grab a bite with me at Scruffy’s Bar? There are a few things I’d like to discuss.”

  Her expression remained guarded. “I guess I could. I’ll meet you over there, but I can’t stay long.”

  “That’s fine.” It wasn’t fine at all. Where was that spark he’d seen a moment ago? He’d pictured her falling right in with his plan. They’d have a few drinks, dance a little and explore what he’d hoped would be a mutual attraction.

  Maybe she had mountains of paperwork and really did need to finish it before tomorrow. “Listen, if you don’t have time, we can take a rain check.”

  “No, it’ll be okay. I’m grateful that you agreed to be part of this.”

  Oh, great. Now she was joining him out of a sense of obligation. “I’m happy to do it. Please don’t feel you have to keep me company while I eat. We can talk in the morning.”

  “No, let’s do it now.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’ll lock up and be over there in a jiffy.”

  She clearly didn’t want him hanging around while she took care of that. “See you there, then.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  Damned if that gesture didn’t light up those amazing eyes of hers. Not for long, but this time he knew he wasn’t mistaken. She was attracted to him. But for some unknown reason, she didn’t want to be.

  2

  ONCE GRADY LEFT, Sapphire leaned against the nearest wall and groaned. How the hell was she supposed to get through tonight, let alone all the days and nights to follow, without jumping his bones? She’d hoped at least one of the co-op members would show up, but as much as they all wanted to meet Grady, every blessed person had other things going on.

  She’d have to deal with
his high-octane sexiness all by herself. Her hope that he wasn’t as gorgeous as she’d remembered from their meeting three weeks ago had died the minute he’d appeared beside the barn. He possessed a lethal combo of cowboy charm, good looks and creative talent that spelled trouble in neon lights. He was her particular brand of kryptonite and she’d agreed to have dinner with him.

  Refusing would have been rude, even though he’d given her a way out. He’d put his own work on hold and driven up here because she’d asked him to support the charity event. Although he was staying with Ben and Molly Radcliffe, he apparently wasn’t expected there for dinner—another piece of bad luck.

  Or maybe he’d been vague about his arrival time so he’d be free to ask her to dinner. They’d sparked off each other three weeks ago and self-preservation should have stopped her from asking him to headline the event. But her love for the kitties and gratitude to the shelter had overcome her misgivings.

  She had no one to blame for this mess but herself and she’d do it all again considering how many guests and potential donations he’d pull in. She’d just have to exercise restraint whenever they were alone together and make it clear that she wasn’t interested. If the little voice in her head suggested that this man would be different, she wouldn’t listen.

  She had a weakness for creative men. But after four failed relationships with artistic guys, she’d finally admitted that she didn’t belong with that type no matter how much they intrigued her. Some fatal flaw always turned up and doomed what had started out as something wonderful and promising. She was through taking chances.

  After locking up, she drove her purple truck over to Scruffy’s, a bar known for good food and live country music. The smell of barbecue made her mouth water as she climbed out of her pickup, tucked her keys in the pocket of her skirt and started for the door. The parking lot was full, as always, so at least they’d have plenty of chaperones.

  “Hey, there.” Grady walked toward her from the other side of the lot.

  “Hi.” She paused, captured by the sheer beauty of him. Ignoring that for the next few days would be impossible. The waistband of his Wranglers sat easy on his lean hips and his yoked Western shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. She imagined sliding her palms up the soft material and feeling his muscles bunch beneath her hands. His wavy brown hair, worn collar length, would feel like silk between her fingers.

  His smile brought her attention to his mouth. She could write an essay on the sensual contours of those sculpted lips. Men like Grady had usually perfected the fine art of kissing. His lips would be like velvet as they—

  “Ready to go in?”

  Great. She’d been caught ogling. She cleared her throat. “I thought you’d already be inside.”

  “I waited for you.”

  “Thanks.” She risked looking into his brown eyes and her heart began to pound. Even shadowed by the brim of his hat, his gaze was hot. When a man looked at her that way, he had more than dinner on his mind—but she should talk after the way she’d checked him out.

  The evening was taking on a familiar pattern. First they’d share a cozy booth and enjoy a meal along with some beer, which would loosen her inhibitions. Scruffy’s casual atmosphere made it a great place for shedding inhibitions, especially on the dance floor. She could hear the music from here and it got louder every time someone went in or came out. Grady would ask her to dance to a slow tune and they’d rub against each other until they were both ready to combust.

  After that she’d suggest heading to the little house she rented with her sister, who was conveniently out of town. They’d spend most of the night having amazing sex and the game would be on. She’d vowed never to take that path again with an art-making man.

  Accepting his dinner invitation had been a bad idea. Yet changing the plan now would be a delicate operation. She hoped the excuse she was about to give him would do the trick. “You know, I hate to do this, but on the drive over I continued to think about all the paperwork I have waiting at home. Dinner would be lovely, but I really need to take a rain check.”

  “I see.” He nudged back his hat, which allowed the light from the building to illuminate his square-jawed perfection.

  “I’m really sorry, Grady. Organizing the event put me behind.” True enough, but he didn’t seem to be buying it.

  He gestured toward a spot away from the entrance and out of the glare of the lights. “Let’s step over there for a minute, where it’s not so loud.”

  “All right.” She followed him into the shadows.

  He paused and faced her, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Sexy stance. “Sapphire, I’m interested in you and I get the impression you’re interested in me. But if there’s another guy, just say so. These things happen.”

  “There isn’t anyone.” Not for lack of trying to find a nonartist whose company she enjoyed. She’d dated an insurance adjuster, a dentist and a systems engineer. She hadn’t clicked with any of them.

  “Then why not have dinner with me?” He moved a little closer as his gaze held hers and a smile brought her attention back to his tempting mouth. “You have to eat sometime.”

  “I know, but...let’s be honest.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not just about dinner, is it?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You want dessert, too? I dunno, Sapphire. That might stretch my budget.” His grin faded. “No, you’re right. It’s not just about dinner, but if you don’t have a boyfriend, what’s the problem? Am I wrong that you kind of like me?”

  “You’re not wrong.” God, he was potent. Being near him fried her brain cells right when she needed to be alert. “But it’d be better if we just leave it at that.”

  “Why?”

  “What if it didn’t work out? That could make this week very awkward.”

  He smiled and drew closer still. “If that’s all you’re worried about, there’s no problem. It’ll work out.”

  “You seem pretty sure of yourself.” Too bad she found that hot as hell.

  “Normally, I’m not, but this time I have my reasons. We’ve had chemistry from the minute we laid eyes on each other three weeks ago. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

  Heat sluiced through her. “Sorry. I’ll stop doing that.”

  “Please don’t stop on my account. I look at you the same way. Finding you at the Art Barn that day was a revelation. From what I can tell, you’ve allowed your true self to shine through and that turns me on. You make the sexiest pottery I’ve ever seen.”

  She laughed because he was the first person to say it out loud. No one else had dared. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. Holding it is quite an experience. I picture the way your hands molded each piece and I—”

  “Um, right.” If she let him go on in this vein, they’d never make it back to her house. They’d end up doing it in the back of a pickup, either hers or his. She’d thought their mutual attraction would be manageable. She’d never been so wrong.

  “Lady, you and I generate a lot of heat. You can head home to catch up on paperwork but that’s not going to change anything.”

  “Maybe not.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and clutched her keys as a reminder that she was leaving. Just because he thought her surrender was inevitable, didn’t mean he was right. But she could feel that heat he was talking about melting her resistance. “I need to go.” She started to turn away.

  “Hang on for a second.” He lightly touched her arm.

  The contact sent fire through her veins. “What for?” She turned back to him and saw the intent before he spoke the words.

  “A kiss.”

  “No, that would be—”

  “Only fair. I’ve been imagining kissing you ever since I drove away three weeks ago. If you don’t want to take it beyond that point, I’ll abide by that decision.” He smiled. “What’s one little kiss?”

  A mistake. “I guess that would be okay.”

  “Not a very romantic answer.” He drew her into his arms and
lowered his head. “But good enough.”

  The velvet caress of his mouth was every bit as spectacular as she’d imagined. If she stuck to her guns, this would never happen again, so it seemed criminal to waste a single second of kissing Grady Magee. She hugged him close as he worked his magic. She’d figured the man could kiss, but she hadn’t known the half of it. He started slow, tormenting her with gentle touches that made her ache for more.

  When he finally settled in, she opened to him greedily, desperately wanting the stroke of his tongue. Kissing him was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid, but when he cupped her bottom and drew her against the hard ridge of his cock, she forgot why she’d been so reluctant.

  Wouldn’t a woman have to be crazy to reject this man? Wrapped in his strong arms and teased with his hot kisses, she craved the pleasure he promised.

  Taking his mouth from hers, he continued to knead her bottom with his strong fingers. “Still think we should nip this thing in the bud?”

  Speaking of nipping...she wouldn’t mind some of that, too. She gulped. “You’ve paralyzed my brain.”

  “Good.” His mouth hovered over hers. “Maybe you think too much.” And he delved deep again as he coaxed her to respond.

  She didn’t need much coaxing. With a low moan, she slid her arms around his neck and arched against his solid body. He answered with a low growl of pleasure and locked her in tight. She’d completely lost her mind.

  In no time she’d thrust her tongue into his mouth. Somehow her hands moved from around his neck down to his firm butt cheeks. When his muscles flexed, she whimpered in frustration. There was only so much that could happen in the shadow of Scruffy’s Bar and they’d reached the limit.

  Breathing hard, he lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. “Okay, we’re stopping now. But this isn’t over.”

  She was incapable of speech, let alone an argument on that point.

  Slowly he released her and backed away. “What time are you opening up tomorrow?”

  She swallowed and frantically tried to remember. It finally came to her. “Seven.”