Time and again, his gaze wandered to the empty house, imagining Cody sitting in the window, watching the birds. If he could give his family—something he never thought he’d have—a nice home, then he would.
Growing up, he’d never felt as though he fit anywhere, even at home. He wasn’t as smart as his brothers. He’d struggled in school and had taken a lot of teasing for it. The more teasing he’d got, the angrier he’d become. The angrier he’d been, the more trouble he’d got into—striking out and earning a reputation that had made his father shake his head and his brothers lecture him whenever they’d had the chance. His mother had been his only defender. And then she’d died in a car accident coming to help him. And all he’d felt was anger.
When he was young, the rodeo had fit. Riding bulls had eased his restlessness. He’d loved the freedom, the fight, it gave him. It had kept him out of trouble, mostly. It didn’t call to him the way it used to, but he still rode for the fun of it now and then.
But it was the vintage Packard his father had inherited from some long-lost aunt that had introduced Ryder to the real love of his life—cars. He could fix cars, build them from nothing or return them to their glory. He was a mechanic, working nine to five, and he was damn proud of that. Sure, he had a substantial share of the Boone fortune, but he’d never touched it. He’d wanted to make his own way—he’d needed to. Now he needed to take care of his family. He had a plan, one he was excited about.
When the yard was done and three large black bags were full of leaves, he crept back into the house. Staring down at her, at his baby, made him smile. “Annabeth?” he whispered.
Tom had been curled up against her side. The yellow-eyed glare he sent Ryder made him chuckle. Annabeth stirred a little, rolling onto her side and curling into a ball. The kitten climbed over her and curled up by her stomach.
“Princess?” he whispered again. “You’re going to sleep the day away.”
She rolled onto her back, blinking several times. “What time is it?”
“Almost five.”
“Five?” She sat up, then grabbed her stomach and flopped back. “Remind me not to do that.” Tom mewed, jostled by her sudden movements. “Sorry,” she murmured to the kitten, scratching the little gray head.
He sat beside her on the bed. “Good nap?”
She nodded, yawning. “I feel great.” He watched her stretch, reaching over her head with her arms and extending her long legs with a satisfied squeal.
“Looks like it.” He grinned, resisting the urge to touch her. Tom climbed into Ryder’s lap, a vibrating ball of fur.
“What have you been up to?” She smiled a sleepy-smile at him.
Her smile made his heart thump. “A little yard work.”
She frowned. “Ryder—”
His phone rang, interrupting what looked like another tirade about him helping out. He didn’t even look at the phone as he answered. “Yeah?”
“We going to get something to eat before tonight?” DB’s scratchy voice startled him.
“Tonight?” Ryder glanced at Annabeth, relaxed, propped up on the pillows, staring out the window.
“Rodeo? Tonight?” DB laughed. “You serious? You forgot?”
Ryder laughed. “Kinda had other things on my mind.” Annabeth looked at him, her hazel eyes full of something he didn’t understand. “I’m not gonna make it.”
“What?” she asked, sitting up. “Don’t change your plans.”
“Call you back,” Ryder said, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response from DB. “It’s nothing, Princess.”
“Tell me, then.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, putting her right beside him. She smelled like heaven. “If you committed to something, you need to follow through.” He agreed, especially when it came to their marriage. If going tonight would help prove he was a man of his word, he would.
“Rodeo, in Smithville, tonight.” He shrugged, smoothing a length of her long golden hair from her forehead. “It’s nothing.”
She covered his hand with hers. “I haven’t been to the rodeo in...a long time. Sounds like fun. We can have our talk tomorrow.”
He laughed, turning his hand under hers and twining their fingers together. “Not exactly how I pictured tonight.”
She stared at him. “You... How did you picture tonight?”
He swallowed. “You. Me. Here.” He looked at the bed. “Right here.”
Her cheeks turned an adorable red. “Ryder...stop.” She blew out a long breath. “You...you don’t...” She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn’t let go. “I think the rodeo is a much better idea—”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he cut her off.
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I am.” She tugged at her hand, sighing in frustration.
“Ouch,” he murmured, reluctantly letting her hand slide from his.
“So, I’ll find something to wear. And you can call whoever—” Annabeth stopped, staring at the phone. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Oh... Or would you rather I didn’t go?”
“I’m only going ’cause you’re making me, remember?” He stood, staring down at her. “So what’s that about?”
She had a hard time holding his gaze. “I... I don’t know much about your rodeo world...or if there’s someone special. You know—a buckle bunny you’ve got a soft spot for?”
“Annabeth Boone.” His voice was low. “After we go to the rodeo, would you go dancing with me? If memory serves, you loved to dance.”
She hesitated, barely suppressing her excitement. “Are you sure?”
His hand slid through her hair, silk against his work-roughened fingers. “I’m sure. You’re my wife and I’m fine with everyone knowing it.” More than that, he wanted people to know it. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do—other than keeping her in bed all night.
“Then I’ll get dressed,” she said, pushing him out her bedroom door. “You could use another shower, cowboy.”
“The bulls don’t care,” he argued.
“Well, I do,” she sassed, her brows arching.
He knew that. And respected it. “Then I’ll head to the apartment to get ready.” He paused. “And I’ll pack a bag?”
She blushed again, nodding, and so pretty he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in, kissing her before she could argue. It was a soft kiss, a quick kiss, and not nearly enough to satisfy him.
Chapter Nine
Sitting in the stands, bundled in Ryder’s thick Carhartt jacket, was easy. Watching Ryder flail around on the back of a bull that looked like evil with horns was not. She knew he rode bulls, and she’d seen him do it before. But they’d been young and death hadn’t devastated her world. Now that it had, those eight seconds were the longest of her life. Reassuring herself over and over that Ryder was the most physically fit and capable man she’d ever known helped. At the same time, she knew he had no real control over the bull. All he could do was hold on.
When he jumped free, he dusted his brown Stetson on his thigh and sauntered to the gate. Annabeth jumped up, petrified. Apparently he didn’t notice the thousand-pound bull circling the arena. But she did. It was only after he was safe behind the metal gate that she could swallow the lump of terror in her throat.
“You okay?” the woman beside her asked, bouncing her sleeping baby on her knee.
Annabeth realized she was standing up, making a spectacle out of herself. “Fine. Guess I got a little carried away.” She started making her way from the stands. “Sorry,” she murmured, careful not to step on anyone’s purse, drink, or child.
When she was standing on the platform, the reality of the day hit her. She was here, watching her husband, the father of the baby she carried, ride a bull. A bull. She was angry and relieved and so confused she could hardly see straigh
t. Not that she had any right to be so mad—she’d been the one who’d forced him to ride. What was wrong with her? Why was she such a mess? Why did watching him tonight terrify her so? He was fine. Now she could relax. And when Ryder made his way onto the platform, making his way through handshakes and claps on the back, she couldn’t decide whether to kiss him or leave.
His blue eyes found her and time seemed to stop. His cheeks were tinged with a ruddy flush. He moved with a sense of confidence. And the look on his face, the pure satisfaction, unlocked something deep inside her. He was so damn handsome, demanding her attention, her body’s response, it worried her. Ryder would never be controlled—he wasn’t built that way. It would be better if she kept him at a distance, smarter. But she didn’t want to.
His expression shifted. His gaze swept her from her boot-clad feet to the headband she’d slipped on before they left. By the time he stood before her, the look in his eyes had her heart pounding a mile a minute. He stopped inches from her, the muscles of his jaw taut.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but said instead, “That was some ride.”
He grinned, but the slightest furrow marred his brow. “You okay?”
“I’m a little wound up, I guess.” That was putting it mildly. Never in her adult life had she fantasized about being kissed, passionately and publicly. But that’s what she was thinking about. She wanted him to kiss her, to reassure her he was here, alive and well.
“Wound up?” he asked, leaning close. “You cold?”
She shook her head, then nodded. His arms slowly slid around her waist, triggering a shudder so strong she swayed into him. She stared at the pressed and starched blue shirt beneath her fingers, comforted by the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
“Annabeth?” His voice was low and rough, drawing her gaze to his. “What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t put it into words. It had been so long since she’d felt like a woman, since she’d been aware of a man the way she was aware of him. It was exhilarating—and absolutely terrifying. “I guess I got scared.” She tried to smile. “Been a while since I’ve seen you risking life and limb, you know?”
The furrow on his brow deepened. “Worried about me?”
She swallowed, the knot in her throat preventing her from answering. So she shrugged, staring at his chest again.
“Hey.” He tipped her head back.
She hadn’t meant to stare at his mouth, but she did. And her imagination went crazy.
“You keep that up and I’ll kiss you.” His whisper was husky, making her shudder again.
Her gaze met his, locking with those baby blues.
“You’re beautiful.” His gaze traveled over her face. “And, after some dancing, there will be some kissing.”
She stepped away from him then, tugging the coat closed. “Then let’s go dancing.”
The look of surprise on his face had her laughing.
The rest of the night was like a dream. He took her to the only bar in Stonewall Crossing the locals frequented. She’d been there a handful of times, but had quickly learned that socializing with her students’ parents could have negative side effects. Those times, she’d tended to hang by the pool tables, not the large retrofitted barn dance hall in the back. She loved dancing but since Greg died, she hadn’t danced.
Ryder was the perfect gentleman, all charm and sass. He proudly introduced her to people she didn’t know and reintroduced her as Mrs. Boone to those she did. After the initial shock, the response was pretty positive. And the shock was to be expected. He was who he was, with the reputation he had. To say settling down with the elementary school principal was a little out of character was a huge understatement.
“If he was going to settle down, there was no doubting who it’d be with.” John Hardy, Ryder’s boss at the garage, was all smiles.
Annabeth smiled back at him. “Are you saying he’s been sweet on me?” She had to ask.
John laughed. “Oh, honey, that’s an understatement.”
Ryder’s arm rested along the back of her chair, his fingers playing absently with her hair. He was talking to another man, Mario Rodriguez, one of the vet techs at the teaching hospital, totally unaware of their conversation.
“I never knew.” Annabeth had a hard time believing Ryder cared about her in a romantic way.
“’Course not.” John took a sip from his longneck. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Ryder took it hard when Greg died, real hard. Some days I could smell the liquor from the night before in his sweat. He didn’t know which way was up. Then you called.”
Annabeth leaned forward too, curious. “I called?”
He nodded. “You invited him to dinner.”
She’d invited him to dinner several times...
“You lit into him for missing Cody’s birthday.” John shook his head.
Annabeth remembered then. Two years ago. “Cody was disappointed,” she murmured. But that wasn’t the whole truth. She’d been disappointed. Not seeing him there, among their friends and family, had felt wrong. If she dared admit it to herself, she’d been relying on Ryder even then.
When she looked at John, he was watching her. “He needed to know you missed him. That was all the permission he needed, I think.”
“Permission?” she asked.
“To love you.” John smiled.
To love her? Her heart twisted sharply. He loved her and Cody, she didn’t doubt that. They were his family. But he didn’t love love her. If he was dropping hints about getting her into bed—well, he was a man. And men rarely passed on the opportunity to jump into bed with a woman, according to every single female she knew. She was there. He was there. They were married. Why not hop into bed and make the most of the opportunity?
She looked at Ryder. How many nights had she woken up hot and bothered and tangled in twisted sheets? But could she live out those incredible dreams without falling in love with him? Because, if she gave in, she worried this time her heart would never recover.
The music changed, dropping into an easy rhythm, and Ryder took her hand. “Dancing time.”
She clung to his hand and followed him onto the dance floor, a bundle of nerves. “Go easy on me. It’s been a long time.”
He spun her into him, sliding one arm around her waist. He dropped a soft kiss onto her lips. “Like riding a bike.” His words tickled her ear. She was mind-numbingly aware of his hand on her lower back, of the intensity in his pale blue eyes. He pulled her closer, leaving no space between them. “Just hold on to me.” And he started moving.
She couldn’t think. She should be concentrating on not breaking his toes, but she couldn’t break the hold of his gaze. Melting into him was her only option, so she did. He led, guiding her around the room with ease, as if there was no one else on the hardwood floor.
When the music ended, his hold didn’t loosen.
She smiled, her nerves over dancing replaced by something entirely different.
The fiddler started again, the notes fast and short. Ryder grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.” He took her hand and stepped away from her.
Always wanted?
It was the last thought she had before the steps demanded her attention. It took a while for them to get their speed up, but they figured it out. He pulled her in, turned them around then spun her up and under his arm before drawing her back into his chest. Faster and faster, they spun around the floor. The faster the music, the faster Ryder moved. Annabeth was downright breathless by the time the final note played.
“Damn, Princess.” Ryder laughed, breathing hard.
“Not so bad yourself,” she answered, laughing in turn.
“This next one is for Stonewall Crossing’s own newlyweds, Annabeth and Ryder Boone,” the band leader announced. “I, for one, am plum tickled to
hear about this match.”
The bright lights dimmed and the music slowed.
She stepped into Ryder, slipping her arm tight around his waist. From the look on his face, he seemed to approve. He kissed her forehead, took her hand in his and tucked her head against his chin. She rested her head on his chest, wrapped in his scent, the thundering of his heart and overwhelming happiness.
* * *
HE WAS IN LOVE. He always had been—always would be. She was his wife, his Princess.
Holding her close, breathing her in, he knew he was where he needed to be. More important, he was where he wanted to be. He could only wish someday she’d feel the same.
His fingers slid through her long hair, stroking the fine strands between thumb and forefinger. If he angled his head just right, he could bury his nose in her hair and savor the citrus warmth of her scent. So he did, pressing her against him until her heartbeat echoed his.
The last call came two hours later, but they were still wrapped up on the dance floor. Spinning her like crazy, moving slow and holding her close, whatever it took to keep her in his arms. Maybe it was because everyone knew they were newlyweds, or it was clear he wasn’t in the mood to share her, but no one tried to cut in.
“We just wanna thank y’all for a fantastic Saturday night. We’ll be back the end of the month. Hope to see some of you then.” The singer of the band tipped his hat back and took a bow.
“We’ll have to come back,” Annabeth said, clapping. “We could bring Cody. There’s enough kids his age...” But her words cut short and her smile faded away. “Maybe.” He watched her eyes sweep the room, no doubt evaluating the other kids that were there. Were they the kind of kids who would tease Cody? Or would he spend the night running around, having fun, smiling and laughing?
Twins for the Rebel Cowboy Page 10