She fought down the warmth rolling through her and gathered her courage. She might be falling, but she hadn’t hit the ground. Not yet. Not ever. “Actually, yes. I know how guys like you work.”
“Guys like me, huh?”
“Wham bam, thank you, ma’am.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever called a woman I’m sleeping with ma’am, but to each his own.”
“The contracts will be here first thing Tuesday morning,” she blurted, determined to remind him—and herself—of the real reason she was here in the first place.
“That gives us plenty of time, then.”
“For what?”
“More of last night.”
A thrill raced up her spine and she stiffened. “Two more days isn’t exactly plenty of time. The contracts are being overnighted.”
His grin widened. “That means Wednesday out in these parts. Maybe even Thursday.”
“I’d lay bets on Friday,” Eli chimed in. “It’s sweeps weeks on daytime TV.”
“What does that have to do with the contracts arriving Tuesday morning?”
“See, Red is a big soap-opera addict and so he doesn’t always make it out to the airstrip on the outskirts of town in time for the delivery. His wife tried getting him to record the programs every day, but he’s not much on technology.”
“Threw the damned remote at the wall,” Eli added. “Cain’t say as I blame him. Those damned things would drive anyone crazy.”
“Anyhow,” Pete went on, “if Red’s not there, the delivery gets locked up and he has to wait until the next day at delivery time for the shed to get unlocked. And if he misses that, well, it starts all over again the next day.”
“But Red’s a cabdriver.”
“And the local postman,” Pete told her. “He also calls bingo every Friday night over at the VFW hall.”
“Sells Amway, too,” Eli offered. “I bought this foot lotion off him last week that can’t be beat. ’Specially if you got calluses.”
“So you’re telling me I’m stuck here until Thursday?”
“Or Friday,” Eli added, “depending on if Cheyenne comes out of the coma before she has the baby or after she has the baby.”
“Cheyenne?”
“From The Rich and the Reckless.” When Wendy flashed him a surprised look, he shrugged, “What can I say? It’s a helluva show.”
* * *
PETE STARED AT WENDY as she exited the dressing room of the one and only boutique in Lost Gun and the air caught in his chest.
She wore a blue-jean miniskirt that emphasized her endless legs and a white tank top that hugged her breasts and outlined her ripe nipples.
“This is all she’s got in casual wear.” She turned toward the woman who stood nearby. “Are you sure you don’t have some sweat pants or jeans?” she asked Delilah Simmons, the shop’s owner, who’d been more than happy to open up on her day off when Pete had called her.
“I only stock cowboy couture, little lady. You want something else, you got to wait until tomorrow and head over to the feed store. Or you can drive a couple of hours to Austin and find something there. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of places open on Sunday.” She eyed Wendy’s reflection in the mirror. “This is what all the young ladies in town are wearing.”
Thankfully.
Pete kept the thought to himself and focused on the uncertainty in Wendy’s eyes. The expression made him want to reach out and pull her into his arms and tell her how great she looked.
He would have, except he didn’t want to complicate things any further. She’d come downstairs with her fighting gloves on and he meant to keep it that way. It would make things that much easier when they said goodbye.
And he would say goodbye. Wendy was a forever kind of girl and Pete Gunner couldn’t turn his back on the only life he’d ever known.
No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.
In the meantime, however, he meant to make the most of the time they had left.
She turned in a circle before giving him a questioning gaze. “What do you think?”
“Fine,” he managed to say in a calm, cool voice that didn’t betray the urge to back her up against that full-length mirror and show her exactly what he did think—that she was the sexiest, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“I don’t know.” She seemed almost disappointed by his reaction as she turned back toward the mirror. As if she’d expected more of a reaction. As if she’d wanted one.
“Maybe something a little longer,” she said.
“Are you kidding? It’s hot outside. That’ll do just fine.”
“Maybe I should try a sundress.”
“Whatever.” He swallowed and tried to calm his pounding heart as the red curtain swished closed and she disappeared back into the dressing cubicle.
He’d sworn to himself just that morning that he wasn’t going to act interested and give her even the slightest hope for a future together. That’s why he stayed away from good girls. He didn’t want a woman with expectations.
Until now.
He gave himself a great big mental ass-kicking and focused on the racks of clothing that filled the boutique.
Hick Chicks carried everything from trendy hip-hugger jeans and rhinestoned tank tops to the latest in sexy lingerie.
He eyeballed a pair of camouflage panties and damned himself. Hell, maybe he should have had Mitch over at the feed store open up. They could have picked up a package of Fruit of the Looms and a pair of Levi’s.
But he’d wanted to keep his mind on sex and off the picture she’d made that morning sitting on his front porch, the newspaper open in front of her, a steaming cup of coffee on the table next to her. As if she belonged there.
“What about this?” Wendy’s voice killed the image and drew him around.
He turned to see her wearing a pale yellow dress with tiny pink flowers. One spaghetti strap inched over her shoulder and he barely resisted the urge to slide it back into place. The dress hugged her breasts and waist and fell to mid-thigh. She looked so sweet and innocent and—
“I think we need something a little more revealing,” he said instead, his voice gruff. “Something that screams sex.” His gaze caught and held hers. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
* * *
HE WAS RIGHT. If she was going to keep things purely physical between them, she had to dress for sex rather than an actual date.
That’s what Wendy told herself when she headed back into the dressing room and pulled off the sundress. Pulling it right side out, she slipped it back onto the hanger and ignored the Buy it! screaming inside her. It really was a pretty dress.
Pretty, she reminded herself, not sexy.
She needed sexy.
She reached for an aqua-blue number that the sales clerk had brought in. It was cut up to here and down to there and Wendy felt cold just looking at it. At the same time, it was the exact sort of thing a woman having a fling with rodeo’s hottest bad boy would wear. She was just about to shimmy into it when she heard the rustle of curtains, followed by a deep, husky voice.
“I like it.”
Excitement rushed through her for several fast and furious heartbeats, followed by a spurt of panic because she was wearing nothing but her underwear. Practically naked.
Naked is good, she reminded herself. Sexy.
She tamped down her nerves and drew a deep, calming breath.
She could handle this. She could handle him.
The curtains swished closed behind him and he simply stood there. He’d changed out of his work clothes before they’d left the house. He looked so tall, tanned and delicious in a red T-shirt and worn, faded Wranglers, the hems frayed around his scuffed boots. He’d left his hat sitting on the dash of his truck so there was nothing except a thick fringe of golden lashes shadowing the intense blue gaze that swept from her head to her toes and back up again.
Her heart thundered and goose bumps chased up and down her bare arms. She rea
ched for the aqua dress and pulled it to her, using the material to effectively cover her breasts as she worked it off the hanger.
“You’re really beautiful.” The deep, husky words echoed in her head and thrummed through her body. He stood even closer now, his body warm and enticing in the frigid air-conditioning of the dressing room.
He stepped up to her. The scent of him surrounded her and his hard warmth teased her shoulder blades. When she felt his large, callused fingers at her waist, her hand went limp and the dress slipped away. Her head snapped up and her gaze collided with his.
“I don’t think this is the right place.”
“Darlin’, whenever the mood strikes, it’s the right place.” His hand slid around her waist and trailed down her abdomen to her panties. His fingers skimmed the white cotton triangle covering her sex. “Are you in the mood?”
“I...” She started to say something, but his intimate touch stalled her frantic thoughts before she could come up with something coherent. Reason escaped her and the only thing she could do was nod.
His fingertips burned through her panties. His strong arms surrounded her. His large palm cupped one buttock. His warm breath ruffled the hair at her temple.
“I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
“Me, neither,” she whispered despite the noise coming from just the other side of the curtain. Delilah was a nosy woman and liable to whip the flimsy door covering aside at any given moment.
It didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was the man pressing her up against the dressing-room wall, his hands roaming her body, making her sizzle with anticipation.
“I’ll stop if you want me to.” The words came from far away, pushed past the passion beating at her brain and touched something deep inside her she was fighting so hard to keep bottled up.
Her eyes met with his and she saw the strange emotion flickering in the dark depths. She knew deep in her heart he was just as surprised as she was that he’d said the words. But he meant them.
“No,” she murmured.
If she’d had any doubts, they slipped away as fast as her panties in that next instant. “I want this. I want you.” And then she slid her arms around his neck and held on for the wildest ride of her life.
10
ODDLY ENOUGH, the next few days were the most exciting of Pete Gunner’s life.
He admitted that to himself on Tuesday night as he stretched out in his bed, Wendy curled up next to him.
The sound of her deep, even breaths echoed in his ears and he held her tighter.
Sure, the sex itself was exciting, but it was all the rest that sent him over the edge.
On Monday, he’d given Wendy a tour of the ranch and taken her on a picnic and showed her Gunner Bluff at sunset. On Tuesday, they’d toured the small town and had lunch at the diner. He’d told her about his past, about losing his mother and raising his brother and taking in all the other Lost Boys. He’d listened to her talk about her father and how she’d never spent enough time in any one place to really feel at home and how she’d painted her kitchen cabinets yellow and bought a new doghouse for Tom and Jerry, and how she was going to plant a garden next year. And then he’d brought her home to bed and made slow, sweet love to her for hours on end.
Lame.
That’s what he told himself. No mud wrestling or wet T-shirt contests or guzzling beer and running naked around town square.
Yet his heart pounded at breakneck speed every time Wendy smiled at him. And when she touched him? Christ, his adrenaline went through the roof. Eight seconds didn’t hold a candle to the way she made him feel.
Not that it mattered.
Pete wasn’t giving up his career for anyone, and that’s what he would have to do. He wouldn’t ask her to follow him around and live out of a suitcase the way she’d done growing up. And he sure as hell wouldn’t want her here without him, settled while he slept alone night after night.
No, it was better that she went back to her life and he went back to his.
He just wished that all-important fact didn’t suddenly bother him so freakin’ much.
* * *
“SO THIS IS THE INFAMOUS DeeDee?” Wendy asked on Thursday morning as she stood in the barn and eyed the dark brown cutting horse and her foal.
“The best horse in the world, isn’t that right, girl?” Pete stroked the animal’s shiny coat while Tinkerbell barked and yapped at DeeDee’s feet.
Wendy had walked down to the barn, eager to keep herself busy until Red showed up with the contracts. He’d called and said he was on the way and she knew it was just a matter of time before they faced the inevitable.
It was over.
“She was my first horse,” Pete went on. “Eli gave her to me way back when. She lost her mom in a lightning storm when she was just a few days old. The animal went crazy and broke her neck. Eli was on the road back then with the circuit and he didn’t have time to care for an orphaned foal. I was sixteen and more than happy to help. I nursed her with a bottle, trained her and rode her in my first rodeo. That was back when I was roping. I did some saddle-bronc riding after that. Then came the bulls.”
“A jack-of-all-trades.”
“When it comes to cowboying. Otherwise, I’m not much good at anything else.”
“You’re good on this ranch.”
“That’s cowboying.”
“Do you ever think about what you’ll do when it’s over?”
“Hell, no.” He reached for a brush and put his energy into brushing the glossy animal.
“You’re lying.”
“And you talk too much.”
“So I’ve been told.” She arched an eyebrow. “What about it? Surely you know you can’t do it forever. It’s already taking its toll.”
“A few aches and pains are par for the course.”
“A few, but I saw you last night.” She reminded him of a very acrobatic stint in the shower. He’d groaned from the pain in his shoulder and her heart had gone out to him. “It was bad.”
“Not if you don’t think about it. You stay focused on the ride, on the purse, and it’s all good.”
“You’re lying.” They both knew it, but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as it used to. As if he didn’t mind that she saw past his barrier. As if he liked it.
Because she was different.
Because he was falling for her.
If only.
She ditched the thought and busied herself by grabbing another brush and helping him for the next few minutes until he finally called it quits.
“Come on,” he told her. “I want to show you something.”
She knew she should beg off. Red would arrive any minute and the sooner they cut to the chase with the papers, the better.
At the same time, she desperately wanted a few more minutes with him before reality intruded.
“Okay.” She twined her fingers with his and let him lead her from the barn.
* * *
“IT’S A RIVER.” Wendy stood looking out over the glassy body of water after a very bumpy twenty-minute ride on Pete’s four-wheeler. They stood on a small ledge that jutted out over the mirrorlike surface.
“Not the river.” Pete pointed to a large oak tree that stood nearby, a sturdy-looking rope tied to one of the branches that jutted out over the water. “The swing. Tied it up there when I first bought the place. I’d just started riding and money was tight, so we found our fun where we could. Whenever I come home, I head out here and take a ride over the water.” His eyes twinkled as he stared down at her. “There’s nothing like it.”
Before she could say anything, he stripped down to nothing, grabbed the rope and went sailing out across the water.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked when he came up sputtering.
She eyed the rope before shifting her attention back to him. She felt his gaze stripping her bare even before her hand went to the waistband of her skirt. “An audience,” she finally murmured.
It wasn’t the sort of thing she would ever say to anyone, but Pete was different. She could say anything to him. Do anything. Nothing shocked him. Even more, nothing shocked her. She didn’t get embarrassed or worry that he might get the wrong impression. Or the right one. It seemed natural.
He seemed natural.
For now.
The thought made her all the more determined to make the most of this moment.
She peeled off her clothes, slowly, deliberately until she finally tossed her undies to the riverbank. She gripped the rope, pulled back and launched herself out over the water.
With a squeal, she let go. The cool liquid sucked her under for several frantic heartbeats before strong hands pulled her up to the surface.
She smiled at Pete through watery eyes. “That was great.”
“Not half as great as you.” His lips touched hers then and he took her breath away with an endless kiss that left her panting.
Their tongues tangled and she had the sudden thought that nothing could be better than right here, right now.
This.
Not her house with the yellow cabinets. Or the garden she meant to plant next year. Or her job and the great big promotion waiting for her once he signed his name on the dotted line.
And he would sign. She had no doubt about that. Sure, he’d been hesitant, but if there was one thing she’d learned about Pete over the past few days it was that he kept his word. He’d promised to take care of his brother all those years ago and he’d done just that. He’d promised Eli to take care of him when he grew too old to make his living as a rodeo cowboy, and he’d done that. He’d taken in the Lost Boys and he was helping them establish a name for themselves.
He would sign.
Even if she wasn’t so sure she wanted him to.
The realization hit her as he carried her onto the riverbank, stretched her out on the soft grass and leaned over her. The sun outlined his massive form and edged his hair in a bright gold. He was tired. She’d seen it in his eyes when he moved his shoulder a certain way. She saw it now as he leaned over her, though she doubted he minded the pain all that much at the moment.
She touched his temple and traced the outline of his jaw. He needed to slow down. Deep inside, he wanted to. He was just afraid to admit it.
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VIII: The Cowboy Who Never Grew UpHooked Page 8