Champagne and Cowboys

by Donna Michaels

  She raised her brow. “Yet here the two of you are, after ten years. And clearly you still feel something for her. Why else would you be so agitated? Have you spoken to her about any of this?”

  “I haven’t had a chance. With all the wedding preparations and responsibilities of the ranch…”

  “That sounds like more excuses, Cole.”

  He scratched his jaw, realizing he’d forgotten to shave this morning. In addition, he’d mistaken the first aid cream for toothpaste. Considering his preoccupation with Anna, it was probably best he stay away from machinery today.

  “Look, Mom, the bottom line is that she’s with someone. Taken. Seeing her just brought all of this to the surface again, and I need to put it in the past and move on with my life. Clearly, she’s done exactly that.”

  His mother shrugged. “If that’s what you choose to do, okay.”

  The reminder of Anna’s admonition about choices brought his gaze to his mother’s. “It’s what I have to do. It’s what I need to do.”

  He reminded himself of his declaration a number of times as he bumped around the house later that night. Eva and Freddy had retired early, with a hairdresser’s appointment early in the morning in Telluride. His mother, with a good book and her cup of tea, wandered off to her bedroom to read. That left him alone with his thoughts. And he wasn’t all that comfortable with them.

  He’d stood outside, hoping the frigid air would clear his senses. When that failed, he spent some time shooting pool, then tried watching an old western on late night television. Eventually, he wound up in the living room, his boots propped on the ottoman in front of the fireplace, leafing through a copy of Today’s Cowboy that Anna had left on the table. As he read one of her articles, he’d managed to convince himself that, despite the thousands of books in their library, there was nothing to read, just as he’d tried to convince himself he wasn’t waiting for Anna and her boyfriend to return.

  He swirled his second glass of J.D. on the rocks and glanced at his wristwatch. Nearly midnight. Pulling off his reading glasses, he rubbed his eyes and told himself that he didn’t care.

  “Will there be anything else, Mr. C?” Maria, wrapped in her coat, walked to the front door.

  Cole leapt up, happy for the chance to do just about anything but sit there on his ass pining for someone he couldn’t have. “Let me walk you home. Stephan’s taken cougar watch.”

  “It’s not more than a few feet. Stephan can watch from the loft.”

  Cole pulled on his coat. “No problem. I seem to have a bout of insomnia tonight. It’s okay, the walk will do me good.”

  She shrugged and stepped out ahead of him into the clear, cold night. “Miss Worthington and her friend haven’t returned?” Maria glanced at the area where guests park. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  Cole stuffed his hands into his pockets. He took in a deep breath, the icy air, scented with pine filling his lungs. “Sure, what is it, Maria?” As he awaited her reply, he thought that maybe he should have brought along his rifle. Leaving it behind was a stupid move on his part, he realized, and not one he’d normally be prone to make. Evidence again that Anna’s presence had rattled him.

  “Did you mean what you said earlier about Miss Worthington?

  The question came out of left field and twisted his heart unexpectedly. “Yes,” he forced through a lot of uncertainty. “Why do you ask?”

  Maria touched his arm. He stopped and looked down at her.

  “Cole, I have known you since you and your mother came to the ranch. I saw you trying to be there for your mother. You are a good son. You still watch out for her. But I know you. This woman, the one from your past, she occupies your thoughts. I think she still occupies your heart.”

  Cole shook his head. “Maria, I know what you’re trying to say, and yes. It was a shock to see her again. But the past is better left there. She’s a different person and thank God, so am I.” Even as he admonished himself, his gut tightened again at the thought of her. A fluttering sound caught his attention and he looked up to see a great white owl fly from a branch above. It circled the clear sky, its silhouette outlined by the brilliant moon.

  “Storm brewing,” Maria stated quietly, then looked at him. “Perhaps fate is giving you a second chance, Cole.”

  He snorted. “It’s been ten years.”

  “Maybe”—she held up her finger to make a point—“neither of you was in a place where you would be able to clearly see what you had.”

  He picked up the woman’s hand and dropped a kiss on her chilled knuckles. “Next to my mom, you and Stephan have been like parents to me.” He held her hand as they walked the remainder of the way to the little house at the end of the lane. They’d lived there as long as he could remember. He stopped at the bottom of her porch steps. “Thank you for your concern. But I’m afraid that ship has sailed, Maria. And I have to accept that.”

  “You have yet to meet that friend of hers.” She raised a dubious brow.

  “Good night, Maria. Get some rest. We all have a big day tomorrow.” He waited until she was safely inside before he turned and started up the hill. He gave Stephan a wave from where he had watch.

  “Did you see the owl?” he called down to Cole.

  Cole dismissed the unspoken superstition with a wave of his hand. He was very much aware after studying the history of American Indian cultures that the sight of a Great White Owl was the sign of an impending storm. He was beginning to think that the storm brewing was totally inside him. He stopped and sat on a low rock wall, not quite ready to go inside. He glanced up at the moon, almost white with clarity. His breath caused frosty puffs in the air and he allowed his thoughts—just for an instant—to travel back to that fateful moonlit night ten years before….

  “Your hands are shaking. Here, let me have the key.” He slipped the plastic room fob from Anna’s hand and opened the hotel room door, its paint peeling from outdoor exposure to sand and sea. “You’re sure Mina won’t—” She touched his shoulder and he pulled her head to his, moving his mouth over hers, tasting the sea. His little mermaid. God, he couldn’t wait to get Anna alone. He shoved the door shut and backed her against it, kissing her as though his life depended on it. This wasn’t his first time, but he was pretty damn sure it was hers.

  “No, she said not to wait up for—” She sighed as he captured her mouth once more. She held his face to hers, each kiss drawing them deeper, tongues mating, precipitating hot kisses that brought to mind the many ways he wanted to love her.

  Each breathless kiss, each brush of flesh to flesh set a fire raging inside him that only she could satisfy. He pulled her to the bed, kneeling over her, insane with the idea of how willing she was, how much she wanted this—him. “I want you to remember this, sweetheart.” He teased one turgid breast and then the other. Urged by her sighs, he left a trail of hot kisses down her smooth, warm body.

  She raked her fingers over the top of his head, bringing his gaze to hers. “Is it that obvious?” She drew in the corner of her lip, something that he’d noticed earlier when she seemed unsure of herself.

  “That I’m your first?” He smiled, reached up and brushed an errant wisp of dark hair from her cheek. “It’s okay, Anna. It’s going to be okay. I won’t hurt you.”

  She rose to meet him, taking his face in her hands. “I’m not afraid, Cole. I want this. I want to touch you.”

  He kissed her gently and lay on his side. “Have your wicked way with me,” he joked, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her hands explored and her sweet mouth scalded his skin. She slid her hand down his shaft and Cole sucked in a breath. This was going to be over before he even got started. Peeling her hand away, he sat up and drew her over his lap. Painfully aroused, he satisfied himself with kisses, taking his cues from her body, from the way she’d sigh as her velvety soft skin skimmed over the head of his penis. He moved his hand between them, wanting her wet, ready for him.

  A quiet moan escaped her lips. God, s
he was beautiful. Try as she might to hold his gaze, her lids fluttered, swept up in her ecstasy. She dug her fingers into his flesh, rocking her hips, riding him, stealing quick kisses, meeting his gaze as the fire built inside her. She grabbed his shoulders, her body trembling as her mouth dropped open in a sigh. “Oh, my,” she whispered. “Is this it?”

  Cole smiled. “Not by a long shot.” He turned her under him and made haste to roll on a condom. She had no hesitation as she welcomed him with open arms, emitting only a slight gasp and wide eyes as he pushed in deeply the first time. He withdrew slowly, cradling her hip, watching the surprised expression dissolve to languid bliss. She lifted her hips to his, and they found a tandem rhythm as old as time. Driven now to spoil her for anyone who might come after him, he slowed his pace, loved her until he ached for release. She slid her hands down his back, pushing her hips to his, meeting him in a frenzied dance of passion until, with a soft gasp, she closed around him, milking him with her body. He quickened his thrusts—faster, deeper—until in blessed relief he toppled over with his own release.

  The sound of tires crunching over frozen leaves pulled Cole from his torrid daydream. He stood, swiping the sweat from his brow, swallowing against the desert dryness in his throat. He felt the rise in his jeans, and was glad for the coat that covered his sin.

  Anna pulled up to the carport and was in the process of extracting her boyfriend—impressively plastered, by the look of things—out of the passenger seat.

  “Need some help?” he asked, eying her struggle.

  Surprise registered as she turned to face him. Was that a flash of guilt he saw pass through her beautiful eyes?

  Her boyfriend seemed to be having difficulty navigating where to put his feet.

  “I didn’t think anyone would still be awake.”

  He stood finally, and, with a wolfish grin, lobbed his arm over Anna’s shoulder. He nuzzled the curve of her neck, apparently unaware of anyone else’s presence.

  Cole’s teeth set on edge with how the man pawed at her.

  “Harrison,” she said in a businesslike tone. Harrison was having none of that. It was more than a little evident what it was he wanted.

  Cole mentally swiped away his own guilt over the fact that he’d been daydreaming about the same thing just a few minutes ago.

  “Harrison, please, I’m trying to introduce you to our host.”

  He looked at her then, meeting her serious tone with a goofy grin. “You mean that cowboy you kept talking about all through dinner?” He turned his attention to Cole and stuck out his hand. “Well, howdy there, pard. Name’s Harrison Barnes. But you can call me Mr. Harrison.” He licked his lips, withdrawing his hand before Cole could shake it.

  “Beautiful little place you’ve got here, considering…” Harrison seemed preoccupied with searching for something in his jacket.

  It seemed a damn shame to knock out a man cold when he was so close to passing out anyway. Best to ignore the rudeness. Eva needed no more drama this weekend. He glanced at Anna. “Better get him to bed.”

  She offered a quick smile and, taking her boyfriend’s arm, tugged him toward the front door.

  “Wait, wait, I want to ask him if he’s ever wrangled a cow.”

  Cole shook his head. She picked a winner with that one. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, then checked his watch. Two a.m. Technically, New Year’s Eve. He glanced over and saw Anna struggling with Harrison, pausing every few feet to administer a harsh warning.

  “I’ll go ahead and park your car. You go on to bed. I’ll leave your keys on the hall table.”

  “Thanks, Cole,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “Yes, thank you, sweetheart,” Harrison mocked in his drunken state.

  Cole watched the pair slip inside, not allowing his thoughts of the two go any further.

  New Year’s Eve.

  Should auld acquaintance be forgot? Cole had been trying for ten years to forget, and so far, it hadn’t been working too well.

  Chapter Seven

  Anna stared at Harrison passed out cold. He lay sprawled across the bed where he’d flopped down face first, without even removing his shoes. She had no qualms about leaving him there and retreating to the cozy sitting room. The memory of Cole’s eyes as Harrison made an ass of himself stabbed her heart with guilt. Harrison’s small-minded belief that every man who wore jeans, boots, and a hat was a backwards hillbilly infuriated her. She’d never seen this side of him—he was opinionated, yes, but that she’d chalked up to his aristocratic, well-travelled appeal. Tonight, he’d been downright rude and when he woke, she intended that he should apologize immediately to Cole and explain that he’d had far too much to drink. Why he’d chosen to over indulge was another matter with which to contend. Part of her felt guilty that maybe it had to do with her preoccupation with talking about Cole most of the evening, rehashing how he’d once broken her heart. Though her and Harrison’s relationship had never ventured too far beyond convenience, she had to wonder whether openly pining over the past was perhaps too much, even for her jet-setting friend.

  Anna sat down and pulled off her boots. She wiggled her toes in her stocking feet and the memory of digging her toes into a sandy, Texas beach washed over her with a blinding clarity. Life had been so much simpler then, hadn’t it? Simple, until Cole Tanner turned her world inside out and left her devastated. She hadn’t seen that coming. She hadn’t wanted to see it end. Despite knowing deep down that she knew the risk involved in sleeping with him, she wanted to believe that what they shared was magical, special. She clung to the belief there was a valid reason for why he’d not been there that morning. That soon he’d come walking through that door with breakfast in a little bag and they’d make love again, expressing their dying love to one another.

  But she’d been wrong.

  She glanced at the door to the next room, where her current flame snored—loudly.

  Her choices in men, apparently, hadn’t much improved.

  Wrapping the chenille afghan around her shoulders, she slipped out onto the balcony. The clouds had parted, allowing the silvery moon to illuminate the frosty landscape below. From the other end of the house, she saw Cole retreating back into the house through the ballroom doors.

  She leaned her arms against the railing and let the chilly night air smooth the heated frustration of this unexpected turn of events—of seeing him and having those emotions shoved aside for so long resurface without warning. She had to come to grips with the truth. Their lives now—as it was even a decade ago—were light years apart. Then, he’d been the older one, almost a senior in college and her, a freshman—innocent in every way. Back then, anything seemed possible. She fell in love so hard and fast that she wondered months after if she’d ever get over him. She’d made a vow to never to give her heart so absolutely to another man. The not knowing, the silence, had been devastating. It was Mina who would finally convince her that she either needed to find Cole, or stop moping around and get on with her life.

  Anna then summoned her determination, and with her pride as her shield she dove headlong into her studies—graduating at the top of her field in journalism, then traveling to Europe after school. Upon her return, her experience made for an impressive resume that got her a couple of starting positions, which ultimately led to a foot in the door at Today’s Cowboy magazine.

  Mina used to tease her that she’d taken the job hoping to find Cole one day among its pages. While Anna refuted the notion, she couldn’t deny the number of times she secretly hoped that she might run into him while on a business trip to Austin. It nearly ate her alive, not knowing why he’d left without goodbye, or an explanation, at least—no note, no call—nothing. After months of letting it stew inside her, Anna finally allowed Mina to convince her that if a man was really interested—unless he was dead—he’d probably find a way to contact her. Finally, she’d let the idea of her white knight in a Kenny Chesney hat go, but the memories of that spring break and the wickedly hand
some young southern boy stayed tucked away in her heart.

  Anna shivered as she stepped back in the room and latched the door quietly behind her. Fate had played a cruel trick on her. Emotions she thought long gone had resurfaced at seeing Cole again, and, in the process, opened her eyes to what she’d always considered Harrison’s quirky nature. It made her realize that she while she respected his art, she really didn’t care much for the man.

  Unable to sleep, she spied her teacup left on the table by the chair and decided a nice cup of hot chamomile tea might help. She quietly closed the bedroom door so as not to disturb Harrison’s sleep. Dropping the afghan on the back of the couch, she grabbed her cup and stepped into the hallway. She was grateful that the dim sconces were still on as she walked toward the kitchen. A door opened as she passed it, startling her, and she stopped short, finding herself facing Cole.

  His shirt, untucked from his jeans, was unbuttoned, revealing the form-fitting T-shirt beneath. Anna swallowed, forcing her gaze from his chest to his eyes. “I’m just on my way to get a cup of tea,” she said quietly. “I can’t seem to sleep.” She told herself the electricity she felt had nothing to do with the heat darkening in those blue eyes.

  “Your keys.” He held them out to her. “I forgot to leave them on the table.” His gaze never wavered.

  The air seemed to stagnate around them. She found it hard to breathe. “Oh, right. Thanks.” She accepted the keys, closing her eyes against the sparks she felt when their fingertips met. She shook her head to clear her befuddled thoughts before daring to look at him again. “Listen, Cole, about Harrison tonight, I apologize—”

  “Forget about Harrison.” He took her hand and drew her into the room, closing the door behind her. She released the cup to him as he set it aside. This was wrong on so many levels and yet part of her wanted her happy ending, part of her wanted to believe that fate had brought them together to give them a second chance. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, her desire battling with guilt.