Cowboy Tough

by Stacy Finz

  Last year, he’d barely slept in his own bed. Most of the time, he’d been in Afghanistan. His articles about the war and the Middle East had caught the attention of a couple of the big five publishing houses in New York and a book deal was made. It was his third in five years. Truth be told, he was starting to suffer serious burnout. But publish or perish, right? And Sawyer wasn’t ready to disappear into obscurity yet.

  He was halfway home when his cell vibrated in his jacket pocket. He tugged it out and checked the caller ID. It was a New Mexico area code.

  Chapter 14

  Over the next week, Charlotte planned Jace’s barbecue fundraiser and continued to work on her projects in the old barn. She’d established a nice routine, including checking off her event to-do list before taking the boys to school, then spending a few hours in the workshop with her furniture. The only thing missing was her quiet breakfasts with Jace.

  Ever since the kiss, he’d made himself scarce, finding every excuse under the sun to go to the office early. If it hadn’t been for the not-so-surreptitious smoldering looks he sent her, Charlotte would’ve thought she’d repelled him that day in the pasture.

  Frankly, she missed him and their mornings together to the point where she was ready to confront him about it and was just waiting for the right time.

  He had been kind enough to escort her to a lawyer’s office to file the domestic restraining order against Corbin and had held her hand as the attorney asked a million personal questions. It had been so sweet and considerate of him that she’d cried the entire drive home from Auburn.

  According to the lawyer, Corbin was served on Friday. Here it was Monday and Charlotte was jumping at shadows. Even though the order did not contain Jace’s address, it had been stamped with the Mill County Court insignia. Knowing Corbin, he was combing the entire region, looking for her at this very moment.

  Everyone at the ranch—even the boys, who’d been told a pared-down version of the story—was on alert and the gate was kept closed at all times.

  Still, her nerves were fried.

  After dropping Travis and Grady at their schools, she’d come directly home and was now holed up in her workshop with a can of pepper spray.

  To keep from going out of her mind, she tried to focus all her attention on a beat-up chair she wanted to rehabilitate. Someone had left the piece of furniture on the side of the road for large-item trash pickup. Other than the dated upholstery—green and orange floral flocked velvet—the chair had a lovely shape. Rounded arms, medium-high back, and a swivel bottom. With a touch of TLC, it would be as beautiful as it was functional.

  She’d thrown it into the back of her CR-V and for the last few days had been sewing a slipcover to match the sofa she’d already finished. The two pieces could be sold as a set or individually.

  Jace had constructed a sewing table in the barn for her, out of an old countertop Aubrey had donated to the space from a kitchen remodel she’d designed. And Sawyer had thrown in a couple of file cabinets he was no longer using, to store Charlotte’s supplies.

  She was finishing the zipper for one of the cushion covers when she heard a car drive up. Charlotte leapt for the pepper spray and her phone at the same time. She was just about to dial 911 when someone called out, “Yoo-hoo, anyone home?”

  “Aubrey, is that you?” Charlotte opened the barn door a crack, just enough to see outside with one eye.

  “It’s me and I’ve got a friend with me.”

  Charlotte stuck the pepper spray under a pile of fabric remnants and slid open the door. A willowy woman with straight, long, blond hair alighted from Aubrey’s station wagon in a pair of tooled cowboy boots and a suede jacket that made Charlotte’s mouth water. The woman reminded Charlotte of Bo Derek.

  “This is Dee Dee. She’s one of my dearest clients. I told her about your studio and she was dying to take a look around.”

  Studio?

  Charlotte patted her hair self-consciously. She hadn’t even worn makeup today. “Sure, of course, come in.” She immediately began to tidy up her workspace. “I wasn’t expecting visitors, so it’s kind of a mess.”

  She’d at least created vignettes with the pieces she’d completed. A bed with a handmade toile blanket and a pile of fluffy pillows. Next to the bed, she’d placed a matching red nightstand. At the foot, she’d stacked a few antique apple crates like a bench. And on the wall she’d hung a wooden sign stenciled with the words “My happy place.”

  The slipcovered sofa had been placed in front of old man Maitland’s cast-off wagon, which Charlotte had turned into a coffee table. Behind the couch was a sofa table she’d constructed out of reclaimed barn wood and two rusted iron wheels that had been part of a produce cart. On each end of the table sat a lamp that had once been a pair of tattered cowboy boots. A chandelier made from the cut-off bottoms of wine bottles and white pillar candles completed the showcase. As soon as the chair was completed, she’d add it to the collection.

  Dee Dee shrieked and bustled across the room to an ottoman Charlotte had found at a garage sale and had recovered in a cowhide Jace had given her. It was one of her favorite pieces.

  “The den, Aubrey. Wouldn’t this be perfect in the den?”

  “It certainly would.” Aubrey flicked a smile at Charlotte and held up a shelf rack made from deer antlers. The antlers had come from a church flea market down the road. “With this, don’t you think, Dee Dee?”

  “Yessssss! A hundred times yes. Add it to the list.” Dee Dee bounced from piece to piece oohing and aahing, and within thirty minutes had put another half dozen pieces on the so-called list.

  “Dee Dee and her husband just bought a mountain retreat in North Tahoe,” Aubrey told Charlotte. “It’s five thousand square feet and completely unfurnished. I’m helping her with that.”

  “That’s great.” Charlotte turned to Dee Dee. “Congratulations.”

  “Kale wanted it. He skis. I would’ve preferred the beach but whatever. The place is very rustic. Lots of wood, rock, and steel. I want to warm it up a bit but stick to the rustic theme.”

  Dee Dee plopped down on the sofa. “Ooh, this is comfy. It’s a little more farmhouse chic than I want to go. But Sissy would go nuts for this couch, wouldn’t she, Aubrey?”

  “Totally,” Aubrey said and got her phone out of her purse. “Now that you mention it, I’ll send her a picture.”

  “Do you have anything else with cowhide?” Dee Dee asked Charlotte.

  “Not yet, but I’m working on a few things.” She wasn’t really, but hoped Jace had more hides. She’d love to do a couple of chairs. “I could let Aubrey know when they’re ready.”

  “What about wall hangings?” Dee Dee got up and started browsing some more.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Dee Dee turned to Aubrey, who was playing around with a collection of candleholders Charlotte had made from old stair banisters, looking for the right height combination. “What kind of wall hangings are we looking for, Ree?”

  Aubrey scanned the barn “Something like that.” She pointed at a Zapotec rug that Charlotte had used as a moving blanket to cushion a couple of dairy crocks she’d inherited from the Maitland farm. The rug was missing some of its fringe on one end.

  Charlotte took the rug, folded the damaged part under, and looked around the barn for something that could serve as a hanger. “I could sew the part I folded to create a pocket and use that”—she gestured toward a rusty branding iron she’d found discarded on the ranch that Jace said she could have—“as a rod. It’s got that rustic vibe you want and I think the fact that it’s a genuine branding iron will complement the theme you’re going with.”

  “I love it,” Aubrey said. “Dee?”

  “Absolutely. Add it to the list, Aubrey.”

  By the time Aubrey and Dee Dee left, “the list” had grown to five thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise.
Charlotte could barely contain herself while Dee Dee wrote the check. Charlotte didn’t have a bank account anymore, but she’d figure out a way to cash it later. The important thing was she’d had her first customer and Dee Dee had friends. Lots of friends with similar taste, according to Aubrey.

  Charlotte was so busy dancing on cloud nine she didn’t hear Jace’s truck drive up, and jerked her head in surprise when he came through the barn doors. She quickly checked her watch to make sure she hadn’t lost track of the time while Aubrey and Dee Dee were shopping and forgot the boys. But it was only one o’clock.

  “What are you doing home?”

  “Was in the neighborhood. I passed Aubrey on the way in. She said her client liked your stuff.” He glanced around the barn before his eyes fell back on her.

  “She bought five thousand dollars’ worth of merchandise, Jace. Can you believe it?”

  “Sure I can.” He smiled. “Didn’t you have sales like that when you owned your store?”

  “Sometimes.” She held her hands wide. “But this isn’t exactly a boutique on a trendy street in the Bay Area. The best part is Dee Dee wants to bring some of her friends. They live in Sacramento and some of them own second homes around here and in Tahoe. Is it okay? I mean this is your ranch.”

  “You kidding me? Take their money.” He winked and every one of her female parts stood up and did the wave. “Hey, remember we’re keeping the gate locked for the time being. If I’m around I’ll let them in.”

  She reached for his hand and slipped him the check.

  “What’s this?” He uncrumpled it. “You want me to cash it for you?”

  “I want you to keep it.”

  “Charlie, you can get a bank account now. Ainsley knows you’re in Mill County. You can only keep so hidden.”

  “I know. I want you to keep the money, put it toward the property taxes for the ranch.”

  He reared back, then handed her back the check. “It’s your money, you earned it. I’m perfectly capable of supporting my family and this ranch.”

  She’d unintentionally hurt his pride, insulted him. With Corbin she would’ve cowered in the corner.

  “This isn’t because I think you’re incapable of taking care of your own. It’s rent for the use of the barn.”

  “Give me a fuh— a damn break.” He looked up at the rafters, his jaw clenched tight. “I don’t rent my barns. Keep the goddamn money.” He started to walk away and she went after him.

  “Jace, don’t talk to me like that.” She was shocked by the strength in her voice. Even more so, she was surprised she had the guts to challenge him.

  He stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re pissing me off, Charlie.”

  “You’re acting harsh. I don’t like harsh.”

  Jace moved closer. “A man can be angry without hitting.”

  “I know,” she said. “I know that you of all people would never do anything to hurt me. But can’t you see how important it is for me to share this with you?” She held up the check. “Do you know how long it’s been since I ...” She waved the check in the air. “This…I can contribute. Please let me contribute.”

  Her voice clogged and he pulled her into his arms.

  “You contribute every day. My home, my boys…That’s enough, that’s all I need.”

  Apparently, that wasn’t all he needed because as he held her a hard bulge pressed against her midsection and it wasn’t his sidearm. She pressed back and heard him make a soft noise deep in his throat. He tried to let go but she wouldn’t let him.

  “Please,” she pleaded, pretending to herself that she was asking for him to take the money. They both knew otherwise.

  He stared into her eyes and she felt herself drowning in a sea of blue.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, gently touching her hair.

  “We’ve been over that.” She laced her hands behind his neck and went up on tiptoes so the hard ridge in his pants could ride between the vee in her legs. “You would never hurt me.”

  “Not intentionally. But this”—he closed his eyes—“It’s too soon after the…it’s too much.”

  “It’s been more than six weeks since the miscarriage.” She said what he wouldn’t. “Let me be the judge of what’s too soon or too much.” She kissed him and said against his lips, “I want to feel good again, Jace. I want to feel like a whole woman, not like a fragile victim.” She stepped back and implored him with her eyes. “Please.”

  He stood there for what seemed like forever, warring with himself. Then in two long strides he was in front of her, lifting her off the ground. Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the sofa and gently laid her down. Jace came down beside her, dropping his hat on the floor. She leaned over, picked up the Stetson and placed it atop the wagon coffee table on its crown, like she’d seen him do a hundred times before.

  He kissed her, sweetly at first. When she returned the kiss with fervor, he ramped it up, slipping his tongue inside her mouth. The way he moved over her with their mouths fused together was so erotic her entire body vibrated with want. Thank goodness the couch was deep enough to hold both of them.

  His lips traced the side of her neck and he licked her throat. “You taste good. Sweet and salty. Tell me what you like. I want to make this good for you. I want to get it right.”

  “I like this.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she arched her neck to give him better access.

  He kissed her throat and tickled the whorl of her ear with his lips. Then he transferred his attention to her blouse, nimbly working the buttons open. She sent out a silent thanks that she’d worn her good bra. A black lacy one she’d bought years ago and had stuffed in her suitcase before fleeing San Francisco.

  “Mm,” he murmured as he laved attention on her breasts. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with so much naked desire she could barely speak. “This okay?” His hands moved to the front clasp on her bra.

  She nodded and moaned as he freed her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumb.

  “Oooh” was all she could manage, aroused by his large, calloused hands on her bare skin. Despite their roughness, he was gentle. And he moved slowly, drawing out every caress until she thought she’d scream in ecstasy from each touch.

  Jace took one of her breasts in his mouth while he fondled the other.

  “Oh, oh.” She let out another moan as his mouth moved to her other breast, sucking until she thought she’d go mad with the brilliant sensation of it.

  Her body bowed and she nearly came off the couch.

  “Good?”

  She didn’t know how he was able to talk. Then again, he was doing all the work, giving her all the pleasure.

  “Better…than…good.” She slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt and felt his back bunch.

  He sucked in a breath and pulled her against his rock-hard erection. The fact that she could do that to him was heady. Powerful.

  Her hands slid over his rib cage and she rubbed her palms down his abs. She loved how the muscles in his stomach rippled.

  He pulled the rest of his uniform shirt free from his pants and dragged it over his head, leaving him bare chested. He was beautiful. Bronzed, hard, and sinewy from working outdoors. Strong and powerful. She’d once watched him stack an entire truckload of hay.

  Yet he only used his strength to give her joy, not pain.

  Charlotte traced his happy trail with the tip of her finger, stopping at his waistband. She watched his eyes grow dark and heated and felt him shudder.

  Rolling her on top of him, Jace made short work of getting the rest of her blouse and bra off. He continued to fondle her breasts, leaning up to kiss her. He cradled the back of her head while he devoured her mouth, making her even hotter than she was before.

  She played with his fly, stopping short of unzipping his trou
sers. “I’m not on the pill or anything.”

  “I’ve got us covered,” he said. “But it’s up to you. We could just fool around if you want.”

  She pressed her breasts against his chest, loving the skin-to-skin contact, and inched her hand inside his pants. She didn’t want to stop at kissing and touching, she wanted to feel him inside her.

  Jace tugged her hand away and searched her face for an answer.

  “Please,” she said.

  “Please what?”

  “I want all of you.”

  He paused a moment as if he was waiting for her to change her mind. She worked his belt open, unzipped his fly, and touched him through his shorts. His arousal grew larger. Harder.

  “Hang on a second.” He lifted up, freed a wallet from his back pocket, and pulled out a packet of condoms.

  “Do you always carry those around with you?” She was thankful he was prepared—she didn’t think she could go a minute longer—but a part of her balked at the notion that there were other women. What did you think, the man was celibate?

  He didn’t answer, just fiddled with the closure on her pants and slid them down her legs. She kicked them off along with her ankle boots.

  He rolled her under him, went up on both elbows and took a long leisurely stroll down her body with his eyes. She still had her panties on and he rimmed the elastic band with his index finger, then slowly tugged them down her legs. The sensation of the lace rasping against her skin made her whimper.

  Somehow—she lost track of when or how—he’d shucked his own pants and underwear. He used his teeth to open the foil packet while he tested her with his fingers.

  “You’re so wet.” He nuzzled her neck and continued to touch her center, rubbing until the friction made her crazy.

  She arched up, a little frenzied. She couldn’t remember ever being this desperate, this turned on. “Jace?”