Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VIII: The Cowboy Who Never Grew UpHooked

by Kimberly Raye

  But his body had been in charge for most of the evening and the whole of the night. It was time for his brain to kick in, and for that he needed caffeine and a few minutes out of Allie’s snare. He needed to brew coffee, feed the dogs and prepare for the visit from his investors that was scheduled for noon.

  He threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then padded into the hallway and shut the door behind him. He didn’t need light to get to the kitchen, so he didn’t squint against the glare until he opened up the fridge to pull out the cream. Whining and scratching at the back door told him the dogs had finally come back from the rabbit hunt or possum run that had kept them occupied last night. After setting the coffeemaker to Brew, he quietly unlatched the back door and immediately gave them an order to stay quiet while he let them in to eat.

  His dogs weren’t the most obedient gang of mutts he’d ever had, but they listened well enough when they wanted food. Blue, a yellow lab pup now just a year old, danced around like a rodeo clown while Lieba, the German shepherd, strode into the kitchen and sat beside her dish, waiting to be served. Buggabear, an ornery chow-lab mix with a tricky disposition, remained laid out on the porch, his paws hanging coolly over the side, as if James’s opening of the door didn’t mean a thing to him one way or another.

  He’d eat when he was hungry and not before—and this was, as always, just fine with everyone.

  Leaving the back door ajar for when Bugga decided he was hungry, James scooped portions of kibble into the three dishes he kept beside the pantry and then poured himself a cup of joe. Liking the drink best when it was hot enough to burn his tongue, he took a long draft and closed his eyes, waiting while the chemicals worked their magic on his bloodstream. He’d worked many long days since deciding to turn the J. Roger into a rodeo destination, but he’d rarely woken up quite this exhausted. Apparently, sex worked different muscles than any he used on the ranch.

  Not that he was complaining.

  A measured growl drew his attention away from the window, where he’d been sightlessly watching the sky turn from inky black to navy.

  “You might want to stand still a minute,” he suggested at the sight of Allie in the doorway.

  Not that Allie looked like she was moving. Wrapped in nothing but his patchwork quilt, she stood frozen just a few feet from where Lieba was looking up from her bowl, baring her teeth.

  When Blue noticed, however, the tension broke. The lab pup let out a yippy bark and bounded over to the newcomer with so much enthusiasm, his paws slipped on the linoleum before he caught his footing. He leaped up, causing Allie to squeal and twist until the quilt surrounded her like a candy wrapper.

  And dammit if James didn’t have an insatiable sweet tooth.

  “Blue, down,” James commanded, casting a glance over to Lieba, who’d gone back to her breakfast.

  The dog obeyed, but only because James grabbed him by his collar and popped him on the nose. “He loves new people. He also loves old people, cats, squirrels, possums and butterflies.”

  With a wiggle that awakened a part of his anatomy James had thought he had under control, Allie loosened the quilt enough so that she could bend down and give Blue a pat. Of course, the dog preferred to lick her face and since he’d just been eating his kibble, Allie’s expression turned from delighted to grossed-out in about three seconds flat.

  “Blue!”

  “It’s okay,” she said, wiping the slobber with a corner of his blanket. “I like animals. I work with them every day.”

  “Aren’t yours usually of the cold-blooded variety?”

  “No, actually. I specialize in dolphins. They’re mammals. Warm-blooded.”

  “But no fur,” he noted.

  She laughed. “No, no fur. But we keep a bunch of dogs at the facility. None that are mine, exactly, but we all look out for them. So this is Blue?”

  The dog allowed her to scratch him behind the ears before he finally lost interest and trotted back to his dish.

  “And the mean one?”

  “Lieba? She’s not the mean one. She just looks it because she’s a shepherd. She’s an ex-police dog. Pop got her from a nearby jurisdiction to help with a manhunt a couple of years ago, and when her handler ran off with a bronco rider from Banyon Creek, she stayed. She’s real sweet when you’re not interrupting the most important meal of the day.”

  Allie shuffled over to the sink, picked up his abandoned coffee cup and took a sip, wincing when she realized he hadn’t added any sugar. “Then which one’s the mean one?”

  James whistled, hoping for once that the ornery pack leader on the porch would heed his call. It was hit or miss, as Bugga had belonged to his uncle and hadn’t exactly decided if his loyalty would transfer to his heir.

  Surprisingly, the chow cross ambled into the kitchen. His golden eyes lit instantly on Allie and the thick black mane surrounding his massive neck bristled and thickened. James took a step forward and held out his hand. The dog didn’t growl—but he never did. Warnings weren’t his style.

  Allie set down the cup. “Good Lord. I thought the shepherd was huge.”

  “He’s one hundred pounds of trouble,” James said. “But he generally likes women.”

  “I thought you said you never invite women here,” she countered.

  “Not for overnight stays,” he clarified, though he hadn’t brought any dates here, even for short visits. But he’d had cowgirls who’d trained here, too, and Bugga generally had a preference for those of the so-called weaker sex.

  James took a knee, then grabbed Allie’s hand and tugged her down. She nearly tripped all wrapped up, but managed to lower herself.

  “I thought you’re supposed to show dogs that you’re the boss,” she said.

  “No one bosses Buggabear but Buggabear. You’re better off just showing him that you aren’t a threat. Once you’re a friend, you’re a friend for life. Trust me. I once had to pull a chicken bone out of the back of his throat with my one good hand.”

  “And he didn’t bite it off?”

  “Gave me a slobber facial as soon as it was free and then slept on my floor for a week.”

  She swallowed thickly, but extended her hand to the dog all the same. He slunk over, sniffed, eyed her warily, then bent his head forward so she could pet him properly. When his tail started to wag, James relaxed, stood and grabbed another mug so she could sweeten her coffee the way she liked.

  “Any others in this pack that I need to meet?” she asked, standing.

  Bugga headed over to the food bowls. Blue and Lieba had already finished their meals. Lieba was lying underneath the kitchen table licking her paws while Blue had grabbed a dish towel off the counter and was battling it for supremacy.

  “These three run the J. Roger, though they occasionally bring friends home.” He handed her the sugar bowl and a spoon, topped off his coffee and then wandered out onto the porch. She joined him a minute later, Blue dancing around her for an instant before he tore off into the yard to chase what James suspected was one of the cats.

  The sky had now turned violet. The animals on the property started to stir and he stretched, knowing he had a busy morning ahead of him. On any other day, he’d have had his boots on by now and would be shoveling hay into the horse stalls, but standing here in the silence with Allie felt nice. Especially since he knew that she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath that quilt.

  “Last night was amazing,” she murmured, sipping from her mug.

  He set his coffee down and surrendered to the impulse to tug her close. “Yeah, it was. Sex was never an issue between us.”

  “Nothing was ever an issue between us. Not until the baby. Not until you hurt your hand because of me.”

  James tugged her forward and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. “I don’t know how often I can say this, Allie. That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Feels like it was.”

  “We both made mistakes,” he said. “I don’t blame you anymore. Haven’t for a while.”r />
  “Then why did it take so long for me to get back in your bed again?”

  She snuggled against him and unable to help himself, he snaked his hand into the wraparound quilt and pulled her closer. Her hair still smelled like peaches, but her skin sizzled with the lingering scents of cooled sweat and hot sex. His jeans tightened around his crotch as his body responded. The horses could wait a little while, couldn’t they?

  But by the time he tended to the animals, the crew working on the arena would have arrived, along with the women from the diner—including Allie’s Aunt Maylene, who’d be catering the event. His initial plan was for Allie to have left, but now, he wasn’t so anxious to let her go.

  “We hurt each other bad. I didn’t want to open myself to that kind of pain again. I’ve sort of had my fill.”

  Beneath the blanket, she locked her hand with his. “Yeah, you have. But that was physical. You’ve been recovered for a long time.”

  “Wasn’t just my hand that hurt,” he confessed. “The whole thing messed me up. Losing use of my hand, my career, my girl...my baby.”

  She eased away from him and pulled the blanket tighter. “She was our baby.”

  “She?” His heart seized. He hadn’t been privy to the details of Allie’s miscarriage. He’d still been in the hospital, enduring one of four surgeries he’d had to try and repair the damage to his hand. He hadn’t found out about her losing the baby until weeks after it had happened, when he’d been in rehab. And he hadn’t even found out from her. His father had broken the news when he’d asked why Allie hadn’t come around for so long.

  Truth be told, the loss had nearly broken his heart in two. He’d been nineteen and terrified that he didn’t have it in him to be a decent father to anyone, but that hadn’t mattered when he’d learned that he wasn’t even going to get the chance.

  “I don’t really know what the baby was,” she said. “I was only about five weeks along when I lost her. Or him. I just think of her as a girl, I guess.”

  “When you think of her.”

  The comment came out hard and the snap sparked a flash of anger in her eyes. “Of course I think of her.”

  “You moved on pretty damned fast,” he countered.

  “How the hell would you know what I went through? You were dealing with your own troubles. I wasn’t going to add mine on top of them. That’s why I left. I asked you if you wanted me to stay, but you said I should worry about myself. I wrote to you. Emails. Letters. I called every week. You’re the one who stopped answering the phone.”

  He remembered, but only vaguely. He wanted to blame the painkillers and leftover anesthetics, but the truth was, he hadn’t wanted to deal. His brain had been on overload, first with trying to process how he was going to provide for a child when he’d lost his livelihood and then learning that he not only didn’t have a kid to worry about anymore, but the girl he’d hoped would share his life had decided to go off to the coast to lick her own wounds. After a couple of weeks of being on his own, he’d decided they were both better off apart.

  Seemed like a really selfish choice in the light of this new day.

  “You’re right, I was.”

  From the stables, he heard a series of whinnies that were only going to get louder as the sun rose in the eastern sky. He had a boatload of work to do and as much as he might understand how working things out with Allie should be a priority, he also knew it would have to wait.

  “We still have a lot to talk about,” she said, her voice so sad, he was surprised to see her eyes were dry.

  “Yeah, I think we do. But I have to—”

  She waved off his excuse before he made it. “I understand. You have a lot going on today. I’ll just get dressed and get out of here. Maybe we can hook up later.”

  She turned to go, but James snagged a corner of the blanket and pulled her back. “Don’t go. I mean, you don’t have to leave, though I think getting off the porch might be a good idea because the crew ought to be here any minute. Take a shower. If you’re up to it, whip us up some breakfast. I won’t have much time to eat, but I did promise to show you the arena, right? You can stick around, maybe, and then we’ll finish this tonight?”

  “Finish?”

  “Our talk,” he clarified. Just yesterday, he would have been certain that one roll in the sack with Allie would have been enough to put the last vestiges of their long-ago love to rest, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  Not sure at all.

  She nodded and the tiny smile that lit her face rivaled the morning sun. “I do make a terrific omelet.”

  “Dazzle me,” he encouraged.

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

  He kissed her on the cheek, then spun her toward the door and patted her on the ass so she got inside before the trucks he heard rumbling up the gravel drive came around back and caught her in nothing but a bedspread.

  “Drive me crazy,” he answered. “And you’re succeeding.”

  She turned and stuck her tongue out at him before she went back into the kitchen. He grinned and whistled for the dogs to come out, shutting the door behind her just as she crossed into the hallway and disappeared on the way back to his room. He dropped onto the porch step, tugged on the boots he kept on the stoop and then grabbed one of the dusty hats off the pegs and started toward the barn.

  Never in a million years had he imagined he’d let Allie Barrie into his life again, but he had. He wasn’t entirely certain he’d been joshing when he said he’d lost his mind, but he figured by the day’s end, he’d find out.

  6

  ALLIE HEARD THE TRUCKS as she ambled lazily toward James’s room. Since she had no idea who was there or how likely they were to come inside the house without knocking, she scurried inside his bedroom and locked the door behind her, listening for the sound of anyone strolling inside. But all she heard were the dogs barking and then shouts of greeting from men who had clearly been up for more than an hour, judging by the energy in their voices. When they came around the side of the house, she heard their dialogue through the windows, which were opened to the breeze, though the blinds were down.

  “Whose car is that out front, Hook? Looks a bit like Allie Barrie’s coupe. Don’t tell me she finally tracked you down and got you in her clutches.”

  Allie frowned. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she was pretty sure she wanted to punch the face of whomever it belonged to.

  “Never you mind who my houseguests are, Starkey. I’ve got the horses handled. Take the crew to the arena and get to work on that ramp for the handicapped section. And make sure the kid from the satellite company has the feed to the production room set up. Seen Maylene yet?”

  Starkey, whom Allie knew was James’s old buddy from high school, mumbled something about James messing with fire before he replied, “She’s still at the diner. Sent us out with fresh doughnuts and said she was doing her prep work and seeing to her customers at the restaurant, but that she’d be out here to set up by ten.”

  “That’ll do,” James answered. “I’ve got about an hour’s worth of work around here and then I’ll meet you up at the site. If you need anything, use the cell phone.”

  An hour? That wasn’t a lot of time...but it would be enough if she got serious about making the most of it. With his investors heading to the ranch today to check on the progress of the arena, real life was intruding on the sensual fantasy they’d started last night in his bed. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t make the most of the little time they had left—if she stopped listening at windows. She dropped the blanket, snagged her overnight bag and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

  She was just toweling off when she heard a knock on the bedroom door. Wrapping the terry cloth around her, she padded across the room and whispered, “Hook?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  She unlocked the door. “I wasn’t sure who comes and goes through here.”

  “Good precaution,” he said, closing the door b
ehind her. “No one generally comes inside without an invitation, but you can’t be too careful when you’re butt-naked.”

  “I’m not naked anymore,” she said.

  With one determined tug of her towel, he rectified the situation, then dropped to his knees and pulled her forward so that his mouth made immediate contact with her bare stomach. Her nipples tightened into electric pinpoints of heat.

  “Now, you’re naked. And warm and clean and wet. Just how I like my women.”

  Allie laughed, even as his kisses sent a lightning storm of thrills through her body. “Stop!” She pushed at his shoulders, though not with much conviction. “Don’t you have horses to take care of?”

  “They’re all fat and underworked,” he lied. “They can wait fifteen minutes for their breakfast.”

  “Fifteen minutes isn’t long enough for what you want,” she claimed.

  “You think?” he asked, running his callused hands over her bare bottom as he dipped his head lower. “I bet I can make you come in fifteen minutes. Time me.”

  The feel of his tongue parting her sex nearly sent her into a tizzy. She was sore down there from all the loving she’d had last night, but the soothing mix of his moist flesh and the fresh water from the shower made her want to work through the discomfort.

  “You know I’m not that easy.”

  She dug her hands into his hair and obeyed without thought when he ran his hand down her leg and then guided it over his shoulder.

  “Never easy,” he murmured into her skin. “But worth the effort.”

  The pleasure spiking through her pricked at her heart. Allie had never been one of those women who could will herself to an orgasm. In fact, all the feminist cries that she was responsible for her own pleasure had chipped at her confidence for the years following her breakup with James. In all the lovers she’d had since him—and admittedly, there hadn’t been many—none had accepted the challenge of helping her achieve climax with the verve that Hook always had. He’d always considered it his solemn responsibility to make sure she came long, hard and often.