His Untamed Love (Cuffs and Spurs Book 4)

by Anya Summers

  She still didn’t know what she’d been thinking yesterday, booking this activity. Her, Mia Elizabeth Evans, taking a day long fishing trip. The woman who was more suited to libraries and art galleries, in a boat? What did she know about fishing? Well, the history of it, quite a bit. The practice and execution of it… not one bit.

  It made her question her sanity.

  She didn’t even really like the outdoors. She thought the act of camping was archaic. Historically speaking, when ancient cave dwellers moved out of the caves and began building homes of thatch and mud, did they go back and visit the caves for fun? Absolutely not. They were used for defense and protection.

  Not to mention the thought of being somewhere without indoor plumbing gave her the willies.

  Mia entered the lobby chilled to the bone from the short hike from her cabin to the main lodge. It was perhaps an eighth of a mile, if that. And she’d layered her clothing, just as the registration clerk had suggested. While she didn’t own a single set of long underwear, she did have on under armor leggings beneath her jeans. And then she’d layered her tops with a tank top, long sleeved Henley, and then a sweatshirt over that. Plus, she’d added her puffer jacket, a black winter coat that was waterproof. She also had a backpack with sunglasses, a first aid kit, her cell phone, extra anxiety medication, the keys to her cabin, and anything else she could think of that she might need.

  Inside the lobby, the lights were ablaze. The registration desk was open twenty-four hours a day for guests. Mia glanced around. The registration clerk wasn’t one she was familiar with. The woman, Billie, must work during the day. The gentleman behind the desk, with his sandy blond hair trimmed short and boyish face, gave her a smiling nod and said, “Good morning, miss. What can I do for you today?”

  She waltzed over to the desk and said, “Yes, I booked a guided fishing trip today.”

  “You must be Miss Evans. I’m Marty, it’s good to finally meet you. Yes, I have you down here. And it looks like your guide is here as well.” Marty nodded to a point beyond her shoulder.

  Mia turned away from Marty and sucked in a sharp breath.

  Him?

  Sexy surly cowboy Cole was her fishing guide? Was there a deity she had inadvertently pissed off who was seeking vengeance against her? She’d be out in a boat with him all day?

  “Morning,” Cole said. His rough baritone skittered over her spine and caused warmth to pool in her belly.

  “You’re my guide?” she asked, her voice peevish. She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. Why did it have to be him leading her today?

  “Yep. Unless you see someone else here?” he replied, his handsome face unreadable.

  “It’s fine. I’m just surprised. You said you were maintenance the other night and I didn’t expect my guide to be you,” she replied with more of a grimace than she’d intended. It made her feel petty and quite bitchy. In her defense, it was far too early, and she was not by nature a morning person.

  Cole’s unflinching gaze was direct and made her want to squirm beneath his hard stare. “Well, this is my lodge, Miss Evans. I tend to wear a lot of hats. Now, if we want to be on the water when the fish start to bite, I suggest we get a move on.”

  “Okay.” His place? Sexy surly cowboy owned the lodge? Say what?

  Stunned by that little tidbit, Mia followed Cole outside to a waiting black Jeep. The eastern horizon had begun to brighten with the coming daylight. Light-fingered rays of fuchsia and tangerine chased the receding dark indigo sky.

  Cole opened the passenger side door and said, “Hop on up.”

  Mia didn’t argue but set her shoulders and hoped that the rest of the day would be better than it had started. The knowledge that he owned the lodge altered her perception of him. Not for good or ill, just different. To own an operation like this would take an exceptional amount of grit and determination, along with business acumen. It gave the sexy surly cowboy a depth she hadn’t expected to find.

  After she was settled, Cole climbed in the driver’s side and his woodsy, musky male scent caused her toes to curl. Mia wanted to plant her nose in his chest and inhale his sexy aroma. Perhaps taste his skin, see if his flavor was just as delectable. She bit back a groan.

  Luckily for her, Cole wasted no time and quietly drove the all-terrain Jeep down a tiny road she wouldn’t have tried on her own had her life depended upon it. A single slip of the steering wheel and she’d run into one of the evergreens lining the small path.

  “So you own this place?” she couldn’t help asking, her curiosity piqued.

  “My brother Mason and I do, yes.”

  “And you do maintenance and guide tours on the side of running a business?” she asked, staring at him in the darkened cab.

  “It’s all part and parcel of running and owning this business. Most of the maintenance can be handled by myself or my brother. We built all but the main lodge on the property. So fixing stuff and keeping things as up to date as possible isn’t too difficult. We do have a person in charge of maintenance during the day, but in the evening it’s either myself or my brother. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” She shrugged. “I’m just surprised you would have the time or want to. And you step in for the tours too?”

  “No. I run all the tours. I’ve been hiking, fishing, hunting, and camping in these mountains since I was a kid.”

  “I see.” But she didn’t. Not really. “But when do you have time to actually run this place?”

  “The business side of things is my brother’s domain. Not that we don’t share the load. But it works for us. Are you always this nosy?”

  “Inquisitiveness isn’t a bad thing,” she said as he pulled the Jeep alongside a small cabin. Beyond it was a wooden dock that extended out over the dark, murky waters of the lake. There was an ivory boat with navy blue stripes anchored to the dock, swaying in the breeze and currents rippling across the lake. A second, much larger boat was anchored at the end of the dock. She wondered which one they would be taking today.

  “Let’s get suited up,” Cole said, departing the Jeep with the expectation that she would follow him evident in his frame.

  Mia had to fight her anxiety as she climbed out of the cab. Her stomach quivered and her hands shook. She could do this; spend the day with sexy surly cowboy and be no worse for wear.

  She trailed him into the cabin of sorts. It was really more of a large storage shed with all manner of fishing equipment and gear.

  “You might want to make a visit to the restroom before I get you suited up. It’s the last indoor plumbing we’ll see until we’re finished fishing.”

  “But what if a person, has to, you know…” she said, feeling heat rise up her chest.

  A dark slash of eyebrow rose as he regarded her in the space. “You just go over the side of the boat, Miss Evans.”

  It was barbaric. It was on the tip of her tongue to say thanks, but no way in hell. Except, the way he studied her, watched her, it was as if he expected her to back out. Like he had taken her measure and found her lacking.

  Dammit.

  She was stuck. Not that she had anything to prove to him. It was more that if she couldn’t prove to herself that she could do more than hibernate inside her cabin then there was no point to her being here. That she would be better off just packing her stuff up and heading back home. And that thought spurred her into action.

  If she went back to Chicago in this state, she’d be no better off than she was before. So she’d spend the day with the sexy surly cowboy. So what?

  “Yeah, where is the restroom?”

  Cole pointed to a doorway in the back.

  “Thanks,” she said and headed there.

  When Mia returned, Cole handed her a pair of the ugliest pants she’d ever seen. He was already sporting a pair that were nearly identical and had switched out his cowboy boots for ones that looked like rubber.

  “I want you to put these on over your jeans,” he instructed, handing her the ugly, tan pant
s that had a rubbery sheen.

  “And what are these for, exactly?”

  “They’re called waders and they should help keep you dry while we are out on the lake. They will also add an extra layer of warmth and guard against the chill wind. I guessed your size on both those and the boots. Put them on while I pack the boat up,” Cole said, very no nonsense.

  She struggled into the waders. One would think putting on a pair of pants wouldn’t be a problem. But it was for her, apparently.

  Cole made a few trips, carrying poles and boxes of materials. He also took her backpack on one of the trips. Who knew that they would need this many supplies to simply go fishing? On the bright side, she was getting an education.

  She finally got the ugly as sin pants on and then tried on the boots. They were a teensy bit tighter than she would have preferred, but they would do.

  “Ready?” Cole said on his third trip back into the supply cabin.

  “Yep.” As ready as she would ever be.

  He escorted her out of the cabin, closing and locking the door behind them. Then he walked with her down to the dock. He climbed into the boat first and then held out a hand toward her. “Step on down.”

  They were taking the smaller of the two boats. She put her hand in his, unprepared for the shockwave of his touch. Her knees shook as she boarded.

  “Easy,” Cole murmured, his free hand cupping her elbow, and her hands instinctively went to his chest for balance. Her palms blazed at the heat chugging off him. There was no give, no indent, nothing but rock-hard man chest beneath her hands. Mia shivered and fought back the urge to stroke her hands over his chest and see if he was this hard everywhere.

  “Mia?” he uttered quietly, a question in his voice.

  She lifted her gaze from the corded muscle in his neck and the kissable full lips shrouded by his beard. Desire thrummed through her and she licked her lips. She jerked her hands back before she did something incredibly stupid—like kiss him. He’d laugh at her and she didn’t think she could stand that for some asinine reason that escaped her understanding.

  “Sorry. I’m fine now,” she blustered while her belly did loop-de-loops. Adjusting her stance to the gentle rocking sway of the boat, she explained, “I’ve just never been on a boat before.”

  “Never?” Cole asked, his gaze wide. His dark eyebrows rose so high in surprise they nearly met the brim of his black cowboy hat.

  “Nope,” she said and realized how pathetic it sounded.

  “Well then I have a lot to teach you today. Why don’t you have a seat in the front and I will get us cast off and row us out.”

  Mia did as he instructed. His voice carried the hint of command behind it and did funny things to her insides. Sexy, tingly things. On unsteady legs, she maneuvered to the padded seat at the front of the boat, then lowered herself and finally let out the breath she’d been holding once she had the comfortable seat beneath her bum.

  In the early morning light, with golden and bright tangerine rays of sunlight racing across the heavens, Mia watched Cole work. The confident, lion-like grace of his movements. He obviously knew his way around the boat as he removed the line anchoring them to the dock and stored it along the interior of the boat. With a great push against the wood pylon, he shoved the boat free of its moorings. The man seemed to have no problem adjusting to the swaying rock of the craft. Water lapped at the hull as he took up position in the middle seat.

  He gripped the oars, one in each hand, and started to row them out into the lake. The power in him, in his shoulders and arms, as the boat glided through the water, started a low burn in her belly. He was all powerful manly man. Mia had never been around a man like him. Even Joe, as handsome as he had been, would be a sissy by comparison. Cole was rugged, as wild and untamed as the land around them, and plainly more at home out here than in the lodge or the cabins. He hadn’t fit in the cabin or even the lobby, but out here, the man was in his element.

  The way his arms and shoulders moved, even masked as they were by his coat, called to a part of Mia, a primal mating directive she hadn’t know existed inside her. She wanted to write it off as purely biological in nature. That inside a woman’s brain she was hardwired to find the best, strongest, most able-bodied male to protect her and to breed the hardiest offspring for the species.

  But it was more than that.

  She glanced away as anxiety gripped her. She couldn’t want a man like him. Mia was more suited to a beta man. A guy like Cole would chew her up and spit her out. She wouldn’t survive.

  “Take a look over to your right,” Cole murmured. His low, quiet baritone sounded like a caress.

  She did as he suggested and couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her lips. There was a small herd of white-tailed deer drinking at the water’s edge. It was a family with three decent sized does and a buck with a full set of antlers that glared at them across the glistening silver blue lake. But it was the four tiny fawns that truly made her smile.

  “They’re so cute,” she said, as they pranced near their mothers’ legs. The white spots on their golden fur and spindly legs were adorable.

  “You’ll likely get a chance to view quite a few animals today. Specially this time of day,” Cole informed her, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

  Mia surveyed the land as Cole rowed them across the lake toward the far edge where it broke off into a stream. Tall sage grass lined the banks of the glossy silver water, interspersed with bushes, their tawny branches showing the first hints of budding in preparation for spring. Pine trees stood like sentinels, guarding the lake. Their year-round greenery reflected off the edges of the water. A group of mallards swam near the shore. A winged shadow passed overhead, and Mia glanced up to see a falcon swooping through air currents, searching for its morning meal.

  Above the sound of water rushing by, nature in all its glory was alive. And something within Mia began to slowly unwind.

  Cole pulled the boat alongside in the small stream and stowed the oars.

  She looked at him then as he picked up one of the fishing poles.

  “This is a fairly standard fishing rod with a cast-off lure with a spinning wheel. I’ve already prepped the end of the line with hooks and lure, but now I’m going to show you the fun part. Putting on the live bait.”

  “Live bait?” she whispered, hating the fact that she was squeamish.

  “What did you think we’d use to catch the fish, city girl?” Cole said with a half grin tugging at his lips.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it, in all actuality.”

  He flipped the lid on what looked like a cooler and Mia shrank back. “Ew,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

  It was stocked with creepy crawly worms, burrowing in small mounds of dirt. And crickets. Lots and lots of wriggly, hoppy crickets.

  “Now, I want you to watch. I’m going to start off with the crickets. This time of the morning, the trout and bass that are in these waters tend to love eating crickets.”

  With the pole resting comfortably between his thighs, she watched Cole reach in and grab one. It wriggled and squirmed, trying to get out of his grasp. Then he took the grasshopper and jabbed it through the chest with the fishhook.

  Mia gagged in the back of her throat.

  “Okay, so once you have the bait on your hook, you cast it out like this.” His wrist moved, winding back slightly and then moving forward in a graceful arc, with the hook and lure silently splashing into silver blue stream.

  “That didn’t look too complicated,” Mia said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it until you feel comfortable with it,” Cole reassured her.

  Then he set his pole up in a stand and she noticed the line didn’t move. He stood with a pole for her and said, “Why don’t you get up, and I can walk you through some basics.”

  She rose, slowly. The unfamiliar rocking sensation made her feel like she was a little bit drunk and unsteady. But then she glanced at Cole as he handed her the
fishing rod and he was steady and sure; an immovable, immutable force of strength and calm that beckoned her like a ship adrift in the ocean finally spying a tiny beam of light from a lighthouse in the distance.

  Cole stood beside her and fitted the handle into her hands. “When you cast out, you see this lever here, you’ll press down and that will allow the line to cast out. You only need to hold it for a few seconds for enough line to lead out. With me so far?”

  “Yes. I think so,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip and studying the fishing pole.

  “Okay, good. Now I want you to practice casting the line without bait first, until you get a feel for it.”

  She gripped the handle more tightly and tried to imitate how Cole had performed the actions moments before. She drew the rod back and arced it forward but nothing happened.

  “What did I do wrong?” she said, contemplating the fishing pole as if it were a complex puzzle.

  “Here.” He came up behind her and her breath caught in her throat as his arms slid around her. His hands molded over hers on the rod handle.

  “Remember what I said about the lever here,” he murmured near her ear. “Move your hands up slightly. That’s it. And you don’t need to be so rigid with it. It’s a wrist movement. So you want to draw it back like this. Perfect. Now, on the forward toss, use your index finger to press the button as you swing your arm forward like this.” He instructed and then did the motion with her.

  Mia tried to pay attention. Really, she did. But having him crowded against her back, the feel of his hands over hers, was making her body go haywire.

  Being the good teacher he was, Cole walked her through the motion a dozen times with his hands over hers until he finally asked, “Okay, think you can try it on your own now?”

  “Um hmm,” she replied. Her voice sounded breathy and was barely above a whisper.

  She almost staggered as he stepped off to the side and commanded, “Now you try it on your own.”

  She fortified herself with a few deep breaths and did as he asked. No one was more surprised than Mia when she was able to actually do it.