by Maisey Yates
“I want my own ranch,” he said.
“What are you going to ranch?” she asked.
“Cattle, probably. It’s what I have the most experience with. Back when I first came to town that was what Quinn used to have. And there’s fewer cows now than there used to be, since the focus has shifted, but that’s what I always liked best.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, slowing down as they took another curve on the long driveway. “I like driving cattle. Riding the range. Cowboy stuff.”
He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
“I like work. I like hard work. It’s like science.”
“Science?” she asked, her tone skeptical.
“Sure. Every action has a reaction, right? It’s about the only time I’ve ever really used anything from school. But that I remember. I’ve always remembered that. And it’s true. You do something on the land, the land rewards you. Or it doesn’t, but it does something. It always changes. And yet, it’s the same, too. The weather can be predicted, unless it can’t be. Things work a certain way with animals, until they don’t. There something comforting in that. That something can be new every morning when you step outside and the sun is rising up above the hills. It gives that same old view a new promise. That’s what I want. A place of my own.”
He hadn’t exactly meant to spill his guts quite to that degree. Hell, he hadn’t known he had that much in them to spill. But it was true. It was all true.
Suddenly he wanted to give her more.
“I grew up in Eugene,” he said. “Suburbs, mostly. Not really nice suburbs. But everybody who had parents who took them on vacations for spring break, road trips to nice places...they would talk about going and staying out in Gold Valley. And... Well, when the time was right for me to move, I figured I wanted to see it, too.”
“Your mom and dad never took you to Gold Valley? It’s not a very long drive from Eugene.”
“I know,” he said.
Olivia had both of her parents. She had a good family, a good life. She wouldn’t understand a situation like his. And he didn’t need her to. He didn’t need anyone to.
“It was never on the agenda,” he said. “But I spun a lot of fantasies about it. About what it would be like to see a place like that. A place that was like those old Westerns that I used to watch on cable. I wanted something like that. Where it didn’t matter where you came from, didn’t matter what you started with—all that mattered was what you made of yourself.” They came to the end of the driveway, where a small, modest cabin sat. He stopped the truck and turned off the engine. “I figured I might find something in a place like that. Or at least, I had a better chance of not finding the same as I’d always had.”
“It’s not exactly like a Western,” she pointed out.
“Closer than what I grew up with. I saw an ad for a job at Get Out of Dodge and figured that was my chance. My chance to be a cowboy.”
“You wanted to be a cowboy.” She sounded amused. He liked that. Her sounding amused rather than like she wanted to smack him.
“I did,” he confirmed. “And hell, I guess I am. Quinn has been good to me. The whole family has been good to me. So, not Bennett so much this morning. But I can’t blame him. Still, I think it’s time for me to do something for myself. If I don’t do it now, I probably never will. And that wouldn’t be the worst thing. I love where I’m at. But this... I think this is right.”
“You’re going to have to make the house bigger,” she said.
“What for?”
“You know. If you ever have a wife and children...” She trailed off and her eyes met his. Immediately, color flooded her face and she looked embarrassed. Regretful.
“I don’t want a wife, kiddo,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I figured that. A man and his cows. There’s a Western for you.”
“I guess so.” He turned to look at her and it felt like the air in the cabin went away and the space between them seemed to close in.
“So we should...” She fumbled for her seat belt and got out of the truck. “We should walk around.”
She shut the door, and he had a feeling she had just been looking to get some distance between them.
He was going to behave. He had promised her that. Moreover, he had promised himself that.
Still, he hadn’t been doing the best job of doing what he set his mind on lately.
He got out of the truck, too, the sheer silence of the setting closing in around them. It was set so far back off the highway, so deep in the trees, past any other person anywhere, that the quiet had weight to it. It made him conscious of just how much noise was around him all the time, even in a small town like Gold Valley. Even on a small ranch like Get Out of Dodge.
He could picture it. A new barn, the house restored. Cows in the field. Horses in the stable. Yes, it would be a lot of work, but it would be his work.
He and his mother had only ever rented houses. He wondered what she would think of her son owning his own ranch. All this land. This piece of a state, of a town, that felt like it was part of him.
He would always have to wonder what she’d think. He couldn’t ask her. She was gone. And that was the reason he was here. The reason he was even able to entertain the idea of buying the ranch.
The reason that his sense of home could never be simple.
“This is perfect for my purposes,” he said, ignoring the tightness in his chest.
“I think there’s a river down here,” Olivia said, frowning. “It’s been forever since I’ve been here, but I do remember coming as a kid.” She turned a small circle, the breeze blowing her glossy brown hair.
This was Logan land. Land that was in her blood. He wondered what it would be like to have ties like that.
Luckily for him, you could just buy ties if you had the cash. And that’s what he was going to do. Buy himself a piece of Gold Valley. Buy himself a bit of that belonging that had always eluded him.
He was determined in that. But even so, he couldn’t shake that feeling that Olivia seemed to belong here. Seemed to effortlessly fit into the surrounding scenery.
Even in her leggings and ridiculous oversize sweater.
“This way,” she said, taking off ahead of him through the fields, the tall blades of grass bending themselves to get out of her way. Luke followed after her, heading toward the trees that stood sentry at the edge of the field.
They were about halfway across when he started to hear the sound of rushing water, and as they got closer, it became clearer.
“Which river is this?” he asked.
“Tioga,” she said, “I think. It runs into the Skokomish.”
And that ran out into the sea. Another connection. Another thing that made this land feel significant. Weighty.
Made him feel like he could do something significant with that money that had always been more like a millstone than a life preserver.
“I can pay a lot of money for the property,” Luke said. “So you don’t have to worry about me offering too little to your dad. I promise I’m not asking you for that big of a favor.”
Olivia looked up at him, shading her eyes from the unseasonably bright sun. “I figured as much. You’re also the kind of man who’s devoted the past twenty years of his life to doing hard labor at Get Out of Dodge.”
He had. That was true.
She’d noticed, apparently.
He walked through the grove of trees, down to the edge of the water. The air smelled damp. Like earth and the course gray sand that lined the edge of the riverbed. Like moss and pine.
He turned to look at Olivia and saw that she was studying him. “What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
He had half a mind to tell her that she was playing a dang
erous game. That she shouldn’t look at him like that. Except he wanted her to look at him like that. Curious. Hot. He wanted it more than he wanted to breathe right about now, and he damn well shouldn’t.
Why did she get under his skin like this? This prickly little control freak in her big sweater and her leggings. He couldn’t answer the question, and that bugged the hell out of him.
“Do you like it?” she asked, her hands clasped, her expression hopeful now.
“Hell, yeah,” he responded, keeping his tone casual. “I could bring some lawn chairs down here. Some red Solo cups. Beer.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you consider that the height of celebration?”
“That feels a little bit judgmental.”
A smile played around the corners of her lips. “It was supposed to.”
The wind kicked up, ice-cold in spite of the sun that shone somewhere above the canopy of trees, sending a gentle whisper through the pine trees, the smell of wet earth and cold water mixing together, rising up around them.
There was no one here. No one to see this. To see him standing with Olivia Logan. She looked softer somehow, standing there in her flat shoes, her face clear of any makeup. Her dark hair blowing gently in the breeze. She looked just right to fit in his arms.
But he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Because he had promised that he wouldn’t.
Instead he turned, so that he was facing her square on. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then startled and looked at him more fully. There was a question in her dark eyes, one that he could see she was afraid of verbalizing.
Bennett wanted to protect her. Luke didn’t. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, crush her to his chest and kiss the prickles right out of her. He wanted to kiss her until she was soft and pliant again, like she had been in his truck. Like he had fantasized about every night since.
He didn’t want to protect her, no. He wanted to strip her bare. Wanted to see what was beneath all that reserve of hers. Wanted to see Olivia. The woman she was, not the woman she showed the world.
He wanted to see who she was when she first woke up in the morning. Before she’d had her coffee. Before she’d put on a stitch of makeup or fixed her hair.
Before she transformed into the character the town expected to see.
Her eyes clashed with his, and a spark flared in them. Heat. Fear.
“Luke...” She took a step away from him, and then bit her bottom lip.
Then she sighed, all of the air rushing out of her body, her petite shoulders sagging. She stood frozen for a moment, indecision on her face, then she took two strides toward him, so that she was standing close, so that her breasts were nearly brushing up against his chest. She was breathing hard, her eyes darting back and forth like she was afraid she was about to be caught at any moment.
He clenched his hands into fists, clenched his teeth. Because he was about to catch her. And he had promised he wouldn’t. But she was pushing it. She was pushing it hard.
Whatever she was used to, whatever she thought... She didn’t know him. She didn’t know him as a man. He wasn’t careful; he wasn’t thoughtful or protective.
He imagined that she expected him to be, when push came to shove, seeing as her dating experience, as far as he knew, basically boiled down to Bennett. And he knew exactly how Bennett felt about her.
“Be very careful, Liv,” he said, his tone full of warning.
Warning was the kindest thing he could give.
“Please,” she said. “Would you touch me, Luke?”
And then she reached out, pressed her palm flat against his chest, right over his heart. He knew full well what she felt. His heart raging out of control, because of her. Because she was touching him. Because she was tempting him.
He was sure she had no idea what she was tempting. Oh, she might have some pale idea, but if she could see just how filthy his thoughts were from such a simple touch, she would probably run the opposite direction.
But he wasn’t protective.
And he wasn’t going to protect her now.
Instead, he reached out and slipped a strand of silken brown hair behind her ear, the simple touch echoing through him like a shout. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
She looked down, her sooty lashes fanning over her cheek. “I don’t... I don’t know.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes glittering. “Will you just kiss me again?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, lowering his head and not holding back at all as he claimed her mouth for his own. She was so soft. Soft and enticing, and everything that a man who’d had a life made of dirt and gravel, barbed wire and nails had missed out on. Everything that a man like him didn’t know quite how to handle.
She felt so fragile in his arms, and for a moment he was afraid he might break her. For a moment, he felt like he might actually be more protective than he’d realized.
She curled her fingers around the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, making little sounds in the back of her throat. Needy sounds, that told him she wanted more of what he had to give.
He might not be what she was used to, but he was certainly something that she wanted.
He pressed his palms flat between her shoulder blades, slid them down to her hips, where he held her tightly, drew her up against his body and let her feel the evidence of what she did to him.
This woman, who had been off-limits to him for so long. Who had been a clear no-go zone. That woman, she was in his arms now. Kissing him like she would die if she couldn’t have more.
He was starting to feel the same.
He moved one hand to cup her head, angling so that he could take the kiss deeper, so that he could taste her, all that sweet coffee flavor that still lingered, and the flavor that was just her. Olivia. A woman he hadn’t even let himself fantasize about.
That made her different in ways she would probably never understand.
That he had drawn a line around her. That he had tried. Truly tried, to be decent.
Oh well. He was past decency now.
With any luck they both were.
She shifted in his arms, flattening her hands on his chest, dragging them down to his stomach, to the edge of his jeans. He growled, her tentative, innocent exploration lighting a fire in his body he was sure was about to rage out of control.
He moved his hand from her hip to her ass, squeezing her through that woolly sweater of hers that rendered her leggings useless in his opinion. What was the point if they covered everything?
But now she was in his arms, under his hands, so he could feel her.
Could feel the delicate press of her small breasts against his chest, could feel the way her breath had quickened because she wanted him. Because she was as into this as he was.
But unless she was into getting laid down by the river, or pushed up against the tree, having those leggings torn right off in the open air... It had to stop. Right now, it had to stop.
He was so hard he was in pain, wanted her so badly he could scarcely breathe around it, and yet, somewhere he had found it in himself to think of her.
To think that Olivia, the woman who had been so horrified by the fact that he might have been with a woman in the Gold Valley Saloon bathroom that she’d nearly disintegrated from the force of her disgust, would probably not want to get screwed outdoors.
She probably wanted soft pillows, blankets and romance. He would give it. If it meant having her, he would give it.
He gripped her face, running his thumbs over her delicate cheekbones, and then pulled away, meeting her gaze. “Liv,” he said, his voice rough.
Suddenly, her cloudy gaze went wide, and then got a little bit horrified. She took a step back, putting her fingertips over her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. But I can clear my schedule for the rest of the day if you want to come over.”
“If I want to come...over...to...” She swallowed hard. “No. I can’t. Luke... It would be wrong.”
She wanted him; he knew it. He didn’t know why she wouldn’t just have him. It wasn’t like she was with Bennett now. And yeah, it probably all came back to the cinnamon roll analogy.
That she wasn’t the type of person to indulge, just for the sake of it. That she probably imagined she needed feelings and a commitment, things like that.
“Why not?”
“Because. I don’t love you,” she said, shaking her head. “And I’m not going to—”
“You love Bennett.”
That made his stomach twist. He didn’t like it. He flat-out didn’t. Because he might not want forever, he might not want commitment. But he wanted her. Wanted her more than he wanted to take his next breath, and considering he wanted to live for a good while longer, that was pretty damned bad.
And it was selfish and shortsighted to think that that should take precedence over true love, or whatever the hell she imagined she had with Bennett Dodge. But right now it felt like it should. Right now, it felt like wanting her, having her, might be more important than anything that lay ahead in the future.
Right. Except you’re supposed to be convincing her to put a good word in with her father. If you try and convince her to let you ravish her, it’s probably not going to go over well.
This land. This land was more important. He knew that. Making that money go to something worthwhile. This was the thing. The thing that was finally going to get him out from under his past. From underneath the crushing weight of the settlement that he’d been left with at sixteen rather than having a mother.
If there was ever going to be a place that stood as tribute to Rose Hollister, it would be this place. He felt it down to his bones.
And that certainty was the only reason that he took a step back. The only reason that he moved away from Olivia.