Heart of a Cowboy

by Kristin Vayden

  “The struggle is real.” Laken flirted, looking up to meet his glare.

  “For some,” he shot back.

  “Ouch.”

  “How about I just show you. I’m more of an action-type guy.” He grinned and pressed into her then leaned down to nip at the edge of her neck. “Good Lord, woman. I’ve missed you,” he murmured against her neck.

  Laken nestled into his strong frame, her fears melting away against his inviting heat. As his lips trailed along her jawline, her heart stuttered. He ran his nose along her the lines of her neck, before nibbling at her ear.

  “I think I missed you more,” she replied, grasping his head and encouraging his angle so that she could meet his lips to taste his full flavor, now highlighted by the wine. If possible, he tasted even better.

  Abruptly, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped her legs around him, never once breaking the kiss. His hands gripped her ass tightly before slowly leaning away, carrying her down the hall.

  Laken massaged her fingers into his shoulders suggestively.

  His blue eyes blazed as she brushed her breasts against his chest, biting her lip. Before she could torture him further, he all but tossed her onto the bed, covering her with his body shortly after.

  “What was that for?” she asked, giggling as she trailed her fingers under his shirt, tickling his back.

  “Do I need a reason?” he replied, kissing her deeply, pressing his hips against hers, making her blood rush, her heart pound in mad anticipation.

  “Never,” she replied, forgetting the question as she arched her back.

  He slipped his hands beneath her T-shirt, trailing a hand along her navel before traveling down to grasp her hips tightly. His lips caressed hers gently, tempting, teasing, seeming to savor each taste.

  Laken leaned forward, encouraging him to lift the fabric of her shirt, and he quickly obeyed. Without invitation, she slipped her hands under his shirt and lifted it over his shoulders, breaking the kiss only long enough to remove the offending item. His chest was hard lines, and warm planes as he pressed into her soft curves. A warm hand slowly slid between their bodies, tugging at her jeans, and she raised her hips, allowing him to slip them down. His mouth was hot and demanding on hers as he slowly explored each uncovered inch with his hand.

  Gasping, she felt her heart pounding with each new sensation he created, her body awake and sensitive under his touch. He chuckled against her lips, pulling way slightly, watching her as he tickled her inner thigh, grinning.

  “Mean,” she breathed, but couldn’t help the smile.

  “Gotta mix it up a bit,” he taunted, continuing the tickling torment.

  “That’s it,” she challenged and used her hips to try and swing on top, but he held her fast.

  “Say please,” he whispered then flicked his hot tongue against her neck as his other hand slowly pulled her bra to the side to explore.

  “Please, wait. No, keep doing that.” She gasped, arching into his touch.

  “Whatever you say,” he whispered before lowering his head.

  Her hips bucked off the bed, and she closed her eyes, seeing stars, needing more. “Cyler.” She gripped his hair, tugging as she continued to arch beneath him.

  “Not going anywhere.” He spoke softly against her chest, before lifting his head, meeting her lips, sealing his promise with a kiss. Though the words had been spoken easily enough, the intensity of his kiss communicated something deeper. He rolled on to his back, pulling her over so that she straddled his hips. “Damn, the view just gets better and better.” He grinned, his blue eyes wild with excitement, his body hard as he reached around and unhooked her bra.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? Me naked, you not? I should make this harder for you,” Laken teased, tiptoeing her fingers up his chest.

  “I’ll even up the playing field.” He arched his back and quickly slid out of his jeans. He swiftly opened his side drawer and pulled out a square package. After making quick work of it, pulled her head down to meet his kiss. With gently exploring fingers, he made sure she was ready for him, then he tenderly slid into her.

  Making love with Cyler was like coming home, like creating a masterpiece, like writing a symphony. Each stroke pulled her in deeper, each touch setting her on fire. When he whispered her name, her heart pounded with the power of it. His shoulders bunched as he drove deeper, her body tightening, meeting him the sweet release that called to her, that demanded she surrender to its grasp. With a final gasp, she submitted to its command. Like the tide, she crested then fell, only to be gathered up into a new wave even higher than the first as she called out his name.

  He met her then, his grip tightening as he found his own release, his shoulders shuddering with the power of it. Her heart pounded from the intensity, and her fingers tingled with a slow relaxation that seeped through her. Cyler’s lips pressed into her neck, kissing her softly as he whispered her name. Slowly, he raised his head to meet her gaze. With deliberate passion, he found her lips again, caressing, worshiping them with each move, each flick of his tongue. It wasn’t a building type of kiss, rather a benediction, a whisper of a prayer breathed into her as she joined him, pouring her love out through each kiss.

  She missed his warmth as he drew away, caressing her nose with his before sliding to the side, his breathing leisurely returning to normal.

  “Every night I’m away, this is all I dream about.”

  Laken sighed softly, knowing exactly what he’d meant. He turned to smile at her, his expression open, unguarded. He tickled her ribs, earning a mock glare from her.

  “Sex?” Laken leaned on her elbow, blowing a strand of blond hair from her face.

  “That too.” Cyler chuckled, rising as well, facing her. “But I was talking about this.” He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “You, in my arms. Waking up and seeing you there—or waking up and not seeing you, which means you’re getting coffee,” he teased, earning a jab in the side.

  “But first, coffee.” Laken rolled her eyes.

  “You know what? I think I’d take you before coffee.”

  “I almost don’t know what to say.” Laken gasped dramatically, widening her eyes.

  “Almost,” Cyler clarified.

  “Oh, glad we’re not getting too crazy.”

  “Never that. We’re totally sane here. Nothing crazy ever,” Cyler replied with heavy sarcasm.

  Laken giggled against his chest. “Keeps life interesting.”

  “It does indeed.”

  “It also makes you appreciate the moments when life is peaceful or especially beautiful. You don’t take advantage of it as quickly, you know?”

  “Yeah.” He set his head on hers, pulling her in tighter. “It does. Life’s a lot more beautiful when you actually stop to pay attention to it.”

  “Look who’s being poetic.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re wearing off on me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I wasn’t saying thank you,” Cyler replied, his tone thick with a smile.

  Laken pulled her head away, meeting his gaze. “I’m sure you meant to say thank you.”

  “I was more thinking more along the lines of…I love you.” Cyler kissed her nose.

  “I’ll take that.”

  “Figured.”

  “I love you too.” Laken snuggled back into his arms, but as she tried to push the rest of the world into the background, the ticking of time grew louder and louder in her mind.

  Jack would need her soon.

  “You’re getting tense,” Cyler murmured.

  “It’s time.” She hated saying it, wanting—no, needing—to just fall asleep in his arms.

  Cyler hugged her tightly, then released her. He rose from bed, giving her a glorious view of his naked body. She bit her lip, memorizing each line.

 
“C’mon, honey. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere,” he offered, saving her from the internal battle.

  What he’d said was both terrifying and fantastic. Terrifying because she didn’t know what would happen to her heart if he ever did leave.

  Fantastic because deep in her heart, she knew he was telling the truth.

  And that gave her hope in the middle of a time when she felt anything but.

  Chapter 19

  Cyler closed his eyes, instinctively knowing that Laken hadn’t ever come back to bed. He tried not to think about what that probably meant, knowing that time was running low.

  Damn it all, when had time become such a determining factor in his life? It was like he couldn’t do anything without being aware of it, of the way it ticked past, moment by moment. Never had he even thought about it, but now it was all he noticed.

  “Shit.” Cyler swore under his breath, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. The sun was just starting to rise, and he guessed it was about six in the morning. Reluctantly, he stood from bed and dressed, half-afraid of what scene would greet him once he left the room. The fact that Laken hadn’t come to bed was a sure sign that it had been a rough night for both Jack and her.

  Guilt nagged at him for sleeping when Laken had been up, no doubt helping Jack breathe through the night. But what would he have been able to do? This was her area of expertise. No. He would have been useless, but that didn’t stop the feeling of helplessness or lingering guilt.

  Cyler stepped into the hall and walked into the living room, orange sunshine splashing color through the windows. He scanned the couch and chair, but Laken wasn’t anywhere to be seen. As he made his way to the hallway that led to Jack’s room, he heard Laken’s soft voice. He couldn’t quite make out the words, so he padded down the hall in an attempt to hear.

  “In and out. Yes. Good work. It’s perfectly normal. Usually the morphine takes care of the dyspnea, your shortness of breath, but the dose was too small. I’ve adjusted it, so it won’t be long. Just in…and out…one breath at a time,” she coached gently.

  Through the almost-closed door, he could hear Jack’s struggle, shallow breath after breath. Cyler found himself breathing deeper as if that would help.

  “Like that. Good work. Yes. Your oxygen levels are getting better. In…out…” Laken paused, probably calmly breathing with Jack.

  “Damn—”

  “Shh, don’t talk, Jack. Save your breath. Literally,” she offered in a teasing tone.

  Cyler shook his head. Even in the middle of it, Laken was still able to give Jack a hard time.

  “Is it getting easier? It sounds like it. Just nod if it is.” Laken asked.

  Cyler stopped breathing, listening intently to Jack’s respiration. It did sound better, less of a gasp and more of a calm, yet still-shallow breath. Cyler exhaled quietly in relief.

  “Good, good. Now keep focused on your breath. It will only get easier. See? You’re doing great.” Laken’s tone was encouraging, soft.

  Cyler glanced to the kitchen. He wouldn’t be any help here, probably just piss Jack off and make his breathing suffer.

  Huh, to think I’d have jumped at that opportunity earlier. He was shamed. Yet the past was the past and he was resolved to focus on the future.

  With a tense sigh, he decided food might be a better help. He left the hall and crossed to the fridge. After pulling out the fixings for breakfast burritos, he set the eggs, cheese, frozen hash browns, and a couple other items on the counter. Then he spotted the coffee pot.

  Empty.

  Curious, he lifted the carafe and looked inside. A brown ring of burnt coffee stained the bottom. Had it never started? He knew it was always programed to brew at five a.m. Had they forgotten to fill it the night before?

  No, he remembered Laken filling the reservoir.

  Unless it had already brewed.

  And Laken had drunk it all.

  Good Lord, she’d drunk the whole pot. Good thing it was the Pike Place blend he’d brought home. Heaven help her if she’d drank Jack’s tractor oil.

  Damn, it must have been one hell of a night.

  Helplessness washed over him once again, a now-familiar emotion that he’d rather forget. Biting back a curse, he filled the pot with cool water and tossed out the grounds, feeling their warmth and confirming his suspicion. After filling its basket with fresh grounds, he pressed the brew button and started on the burritos.

  In less than a half hour, breakfast was finished, but no sign of Laken. The room was filled with the sweet and smoky scent of crisp bacon and buttery eggs. If she wasn’t coming down the hall, that meant that she couldn’t leave Jack. Torn as to whether he should interrupt them or just keep the food warm, he opted to interrupt. As he lifted his hand to knock, the door opened, revealing a startled Laken.

  “Holy cow! Hi?” She placed a hand over her heart, a tired smile spreading across her face.

  “Hey.” He scanned her features, noticing dark shadows under her eyes. “Hungry, or do you want to wait?”

  She gave a quick glance behind her and then walked into the hall, closing the door behind her. “Starving, but I think I need to wait. Would there happen to be any more coffee?” she asked, her eyes pitifully hopeful.

  “I’ll do one better. I’ll bring you a breakfast burrito—easy to eat quickly in the hall—and I’ll run to Starbucks for you, okay? Anything else you need while I’m out?”

  Laken closed her eyes, leaning forward, and resting her head against his chest. “This.” She took a deep breath.

  He tugged her in tighter, holding her in the strength of his arms, wishing he could do more.

  “Thank you,” she murmured into his heart. “No, I’ve got this. We’re through the worst of it, I think. I’ll explain later, but I’d love that coffee.” She pulled back, giving him a brave smile.

  “You’ve got it. I’ll be right back with breakfast.”

  “A man who feeds me. I’ll keep you,” she whispered as he walked down the hall.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “You didn’t really have a choice.”

  “Get me my burrito.” She gave a sweet, quiet laugh that belied her demanding words.

  “Stop bossing me, and I might.” Cyler disappeared into the kitchen. Soon he was back, handing over a napkin with a delicious-smelling breakfast wrapped inside of a warm flour tortilla.

  “Bless you.” Laken took a quick bite. “Hot, hot.” She opened her mouth, breathing in quickly to try to cool the food.

  “Take it easy. Do I need to stay to make sure you actually chew your food rather than try to swallow it whole?” Cyler leaned against the hall wall with a raised brow.

  “Bite me,” Laken retorted around a mouthful of burrito.

  “I did.” Cyler leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You taste better.”

  “And we’re done. You, make yourself useful and get me some coffee.” Laken rolled her eyes.

  Cyler gave a quick salute and strode down the hall before swiping his keys from the table by the door. The sun was just cresting the hills by the time he swung open the door to the Starbucks restaurant.

  “Aw, if it isn’t my favorite customer’s boy-toy,” Kessed teased as Cyler walked up to the counter.

  “I’m insulted.”

  “No, you’re not. Just calling it like I see it.”

  “Well, your favorite customer needs an IV of caffeine. Whatcha got?”

  Kessed’s teasing expression shifted to concern. “Jack?”

  “Failing.”

  “I’m sorry. Wait, or are you still waiting for the old man to kick the bucket?”

  Cyler rubbed the back of his neck in chagrin. “Kinda mended that fence, at least a little bit.”

  “Good. Laken doesn’t need to deal with your sorry ass if you’re going to be a grudge-holder.”

  “
Nice to know you have my back.”

  “Hey, no offense. I’m sure it’s a damn sexy back. It’s just that, well, bros over hoes, you know?” She picked up a venti cup and wrote on it.

  “I—never mind. Not going there.” He held up his hands in a futility. “Coffee?”

  “I’m all over it. Ah, shit.” Kessed shifted her gaze to the door behind him.

  “Pardon?” Cyler narrowed his eyes and then followed her gaze.

  “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered as Breelee strode in.

  “Friend of yours?” Kessed asked, acid in her tone.

  “Nope. Pretty sure her summer house is somewhere in hell. Does that give you an idea of my opinion of her?”

  “Whoa, and just when we had all that hope from you mending fences with Jack.”

  “This is different.”

  “Cyler. Imagine finding you here.” Her voice was husky, and it grated on his nerves rather than have the sultry quality she was probably attempting.

  “Satan.” He nodded then turned to Kessed. “To go, like fast.”

  “A little demanding, aren’t we?” Breelee commented, coming to stand beside him, a little too close for comfort.

  “I don’t mind,” Kessed answered with a tight smile. “What can I start for you?” she asked Breelee.

  “Skinny vanilla.”

  Cyler smirked as he heard Kessed whisper, “One skinny-bitch latte,” just quietly enough for him to hear.

  He glanced to Breelee, thankful she was looking in her purse and apparently oblivious to Kessed’s jibe.

  “Three forty-five.” Kessed smiled sweetly to Breelee.

  Cyler took a step back. Nothing good could come from Kessed smiling like that.

  “What about him?” Breelee’s gaze cut to Cyler.

  “His is on the house,” Kessed answered clearly.

  “Oh.” Breelee glanced between the two of them. “I guess that’s one way to get your coffee.” She arched a brow suggestively.

  Cyler took another step back as Kessed’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed, making her look more Asian than usual. “Your coffee will be ready shortly. I suggest you wait over there.” Kessed bit out each word.