How to Train a Cowboy

by Caro Carson

  “I can believe that. It’s empty out here. It’s as dark as...”

  She stole a peek at him when his sentence trailed off into nothing. There was no trace of a sexy smile, no smart-aleck grin, either. He was in perfect profile, the lines of his forehead, nose, jaw all highlighted by the glow of the dashboard lights. He might as well have been carved from marble for all the expression his face didn’t show.

  “As dark as what?” she asked.

  “As anywhere I’ve ever been,” he finished flatly.

  Emily looked out the windshield at the passing white dashes of the endless center line. She supposed being expressionless wasn’t the worst thing he could be. He could look impatient or irritated with the fact that he was stuck with her when he’d been ready to drop her at her truck and leave. Instead, he just looked stoic. Stoically surviving this additional time with her.

  She felt just as bad as she had in the parking lot. She’d tried to leave him when he’d started saying I’m sorry. It wasn’t her fault he’d thrown her into his SUV when the cops had started ducking for cover.

  She slowed the SUV and made a U-turn in the middle of the empty road. Once they were facing the direction of the bar, she pulled a good car’s length off the road and put the vehicle into park. She left the lights on, so other cars would see them on the shoulder, if another car was actually on this rural road. He didn’t ask her what she was doing.

  She explained, anyway. “We can see the glow of the sheriff’s lights from behind that little rise in the road. When the red and blue cut off, we’ll know the coast is clear.”

  And you can take me back to my pickup and get rid of me at the first possible moment.

  “All right.” He opened his glove box and took out a cell phone, checked the screen, then tossed it to the center console.

  Of course. He probably had someone to check in with, someone from the place he’d just left or the place he was going to. He couldn’t make a call with her sitting right here, staring at him and listening to every word. She’d never felt like such a burden before.

  She hated it. She pretended she didn’t and let go of the steering wheel. “You’ve got a real nice ride here. It was fun to drive, considering the circumstances. But, you know, that whole little episode was pretty intense. Think I’ll walk it off a bit while we wait.”

  “Emily.”

  Jeez, he said her name like her mother would, Emily said in a tone that meant be sensible.

  “No bullet is going to come over that rise and get me.” She unfastened her seat belt.

  “You’ll freeze.”

  “No, I won’t. I’m just going to stretch my legs.” She opened the door.

  “Emily—”

  She dropped down the foot to the gravel shoulder of the road and shut her door. The emergency lights flashed on the horizon. The air temperature hadn’t fallen any further. This was as cold as it was going to get tonight. Not too bad—if she’d had her jacket. She started walking and swung her arms, too. It did feel good to shake off some of the tension.

  She avoided the bright headlights and walked around the back of the vehicle to the other side. Graham’s door opened and the interior lights came on, highlighting the rounded bulk of his shoulder muscles under that navy shirt. He stepped out and slammed the door shut. In the sudden shadows, he handed her a coat.

  Oh, Tarzan. He was still taking care of her when he’d rather be free of her.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She held the coat in one hand.

  He leaned his back against the door and crossed his ankles, apparently prepared to relax out in the cold air. “You might as well put it on, if you’re going to walk around while we wait.”

  “But now you’ll be the one freezing without it.” Although the headlights were pointed away from them, they still illuminated her little piece of the night enough that she could see her breath as a mist in the cold.

  He shrugged in the shadows. “I’ll get back in the SUV if I can’t take it. If you feel the need to walk, you wear it.”

  She swirled his coat around her shoulders like a cape, feeling a little bit sheepish. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t need to walk anywhere, for any reason. “I thought—I thought you might want some privacy to make a call.”

  “There’s no cell reception out here.”

  “Oh. Right.” That must have been why he’d tossed his cell phone, not because he couldn’t make a call in her presence. To walk or not walk—which would make her look less dumb?

  He tucked his hands into his front pockets. “Are you scared of me?”

  With his face in shadows, she paid more attention to his tone of voice. He sounded concerned, actually concerned about her, Emily, the girl that the boys didn’t always like because they couldn’t beat her in a roping contest. A man who was concerned about her—it tugged at her heart. It made her weak in the knees. She was scared by how hard she wanted something she hadn’t thought she needed in her life. She didn’t need it; she just liked it. Loved it.

  “When the police drew their weapons, I pushed you into my SUV pretty abruptly,” he said. “Maybe I scared you. I didn’t mean to. If the police needed to take cover, then we did, too.”

  “I’m not scared of you.” That was sort of a lie, but she wasn’t scared of him the way he meant. She kept her chin up and pretended her heart wasn’t pounding just because he was talking to her with concern in his voice.

  “I can imagine a woman might feel uneasy being out in the middle of nowhere with a stranger. I promise you, you’re safe.”

  His hands were still tucked in his front pockets as he leaned against the door. He was being as physically non-threatening as he could be, she realized, putting himself in her shoes and trying to imagine what she might be afraid of. Just—jeez. What a good man. Who knew a man like that could swoop in to her local bar from out of nowhere?

  He was watching her. “I’d never push anything farther than a woman wanted to take it.”

  “Even though you were a handsy prom date?”

  A beat of silence. “Even then, I could take no for an answer.”

  “Because your mama taught you better.”

  “Some things you don’t have to be taught. Of course I wouldn’t hurt a woman I wanted to...touch.” The slightest smile softened his features, but then he slayed her with a casual wink. “I just can’t imagine it would be any fun if she wasn’t having any fun.”

  Well.

  She couldn’t say anything to that. It was amazing she could even stand, because her bones had just turned to mush and she wanted to drop like a ribbon at his feet.

  His voice was a gentle rumble in the night. “I’m trying to figure out why you got out of a warm car to stand in the cold air. Twice, not that I’m counting.”

  “I was trying to give you some space. You didn’t plan on being stuck with me all night.” Her voice sounded sad. She tried to put a little spunk into it. “In my defense, this wasn’t my idea. I can take a hint. I did take the hint, in fact.”

  “What hint was that?”

  “In the parking lot. You were starting the whole ‘I’m sorry’ speech. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to get going now. Nice knowin’ you.’ I understand. You were never obliged to stay with me as long as you did. You could have jumped over that fence anytime you wanted to and left.”

  His hands stayed in his pockets, but the muscles in his arms were taut, the muscles in his neck showing his tension. He looked away from her. “That wasn’t it.”

  She waited, but he said nothing else. After a moment, she took a step closer to him. “Then what were you saying sorry for?”

  He looked back at her with a suddenly fierce expression. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of there sooner.”

  “Oh.” The look of disgust on his face, she realized, was directed
toward himself, not toward her.

  “I knew that crowd was going to turn bad. I failed to get you out of there. I was too slow to act on my own intuition, and I put you in danger because of it. Your truck is out of commission now, when it would have been fine if I’d gotten you out of there at the start. You would have been gone before the police arrived. I’m sorry.”

  “We were only standing at the bar for a minute or two.”

  “Long enough. I saw the argument starting when we were working our way through the crowd. I should have gotten you out that door instead of following you to the bar in the first place.”

  Poor Tarzan, always obliged to help the people who wandered into the jungle. She felt a little guilty for soaking up all his protection. She’d done nothing except admire his body, his voice and his profile, while he’d been trying to keep her safe from fists and bullets, literally trying to save her life.

  She turned to lean her back against the door, too, shoulder to shoulder with him, so he’d know she wasn’t afraid that he was going to physically attack her or anything like that. “It wasn’t your job to predict a fight or even to get me out of the bar. It’s my turn to apologize. I know I’ve given you the wrong impression all night, and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not actually the helpless type of female.”

  “I know that.”

  “I don’t think you do.” She glanced up to find him looking down at her.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “The first words I heard you say were ‘go to hell.’”

  Her laugh of surprise was a single puff of white that floated away in the night air.

  “You damn near made it over that fence before I could get a hand on you to help. This has nothing to do with whether or not I think you’re helpless. You’re clearly not.”

  “Then why did you decide to help me?” Me, out of all the women in that bar?

  She had hopes, high hopes. She wanted to hear him say he’d taken one look at her and felt the same way she had: here was someone he wanted to get to know better. Someone attractive, appealing—even sexy.

  But the moment passed. Then another. He studied the darkness beyond their little pool of light. “You never leave someone behind in battle. Never.”

  Not sexy. Kind of grim, actually.

  “Were you in the military?” she asked.

  “Yes. Were you?”

  “No.” But there was a compliment in there. It wasn’t sexy, but it was something. “No one’s ever asked me that before. What makes you think I might have served in the military?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  She wanted to see his smile again. She nudged him with her shoulder. “Come on, tell me. Was it my fabulous driving skills? Do you think I’d be good at driving a tank, or what?”

  His smile returned briefly. “That wasn’t your first time off-roading.”

  “I couldn’t call myself a Texan if I’d never taken a truck off-road.”

  She wanted to touch him. She’d already stood in the warmth of his arms. Heck, he’d already had his hand on her rear end twice, even if both times had been during an escape.

  Fortune favors the brave. Those had been the man’s own words.

  “You want to know why I thought you might be in the military?” She dared to reach up and touch the back of his neck, the clean skin above his collar. She let her fingers comb through the short hair at the back of his head. “It wasn’t this haircut. It’s short, but not as short as the soldiers from Fort Hood.”

  “I’m a civilian now. A regulation haircut would be too...unnecessary.” He didn’t shake her off or step away, but he didn’t touch her in return, either, except with his gaze.

  She let her hand slip over his shoulder lightly before falling away. “I’ll tell you what gave it away. It was the way you ordered me to get back in the truck. Do they teach you to bark out orders in that tone of voice? It’s scary as hell.”

  “It didn’t work on you.” He grumbled those words, which made her smile.

  “I’m stubborn like that, and I already know it’s not a good trait. I hear about it from my family all the time.” She pushed away from the door and turned to face him—which meant she stepped over his crossed ankles with one foot and stood in her mini dress with her legs a little way apart, his boots between hers. The night air was cold on her inner thighs. “But I didn’t bark out any orders like a military man, so what made you think I might have served? Come on, talk to me.” She gestured toward the red and blue glow on the horizon. “We can’t go anywhere, anyway. Was it my haircut?”

  She was joking, of course, but her laughter faded at the intensity of his gaze. She couldn’t look away, not even when he turned his attention from her eyes to her hair, somewhere near her temple. Her ear. Slowly, so slowly, his gaze followed the length of her hair as it lay on her shoulder, as it curved over her breast, as it disappeared in the open edge of his coat, near her hip.

  She wanted him. He was leaning against his vehicle, arms crossed, ankles crossed, not moving a muscle, setting her on fire with a look.

  “There’s nothing military about your hair,” he said quietly, and he looked back up to her eyes. “It was your head. You keep a cool head.”

  “A cool head.” She breathed in cold air, willing herself to say something, to do something, although her thoughts weren’t cool at all. “That’s it?”

  “That’s not all that common.” He pushed away from the door and stood before her, a little too close, and not nearly close enough. “You also didn’t leave your ex and his friends behind, even though they didn’t deserve your help.”

  Kiss me, kiss me.

  But the man didn’t move an inch closer. “They were lucky. If I hadn’t wanted to dance with you so badly, I would have gotten you out of there before trouble started, and they wouldn’t have had you around to bail them out.”

  Wait—what? To heck with her ex and the fight. “You wanted to dance with me?”

  “The second that band played anything remotely resembling a slow song. I ignored the beginnings of that fight, because I wanted to see if the band would play something we could dance to. It’s the only way to touch a woman you barely know without being too...”

  “Handsy?” Dear God, she sounded breathless. She was breathless.

  “That’s the word.”

  He’d wanted to touch her from the start. This insane chemistry was the same for both of them.

  He didn’t reach for her now. Why didn’t he reach for her?

  “So dancing is an acceptable way to touch a woman you just met.” She kept her voice low in the dark.

  “Right.”

  “And we decided keeping someone warm when it’s cold out is allowed.”

  “True.” He didn’t move.

  “Graham.” Emily put her palm on his chest and tilted her face up to his. “It’s cold out.”

  He touched her, sliding just one warm hand under her hair to the back of her neck, pulling her just an inch closer. After a breathless pause, he kissed her. In contrast to that strong hand, his lips were shockingly soft against hers for one unbearably perfect moment. She took a breath when he pulled away, her eyes fluttering open to see him looking down at her, and then he kissed her again.

  Harder. This time, his arms came around her, gathering her to his chest. She made a little sound, a groan of relief—finally, they were kissing—and buried her fingers in his hair once more. Their mouths opened; they tasted each other, not tentatively but with certainty, as if they knew already that they’d like the taste and the sensation and the intimacy. Yes?

  Yes—and then he was kissing her deeply, molding her body against his from chest to hips, so she didn’t need to hold herself upright. If she went limp like a ribbon, she wouldn’t fall. She’d stay right here, secure in Graham’s arms.

  The kiss ended. H
e’d ended it, but they still held each other tight, breaths panting into the night like steam.

  He held her a little harder, then let her go just far enough that she could look into his face. Dear God, he looked good when he looked kissed.

  He spoke quietly, warm words stirring the air near her cheek. “I need to take you home. Now.”

  Arousal obliterated her thoughts for a hot moment. She’d never gone to bed with a man on a first date—but she’d never been tempted by Graham.

  She swallowed and tried to clear her head enough to work out the logistics. “Where’s your home? I thought you were just passing through.”

  “Not my home. Yours. Let me drive you to your place.”

  Yes. I want him all to myself. I want him in my bed, this man who knows what he’s doing. But where was she going to take him? To her mother’s house? To her uncle’s ranch?

  “I wish you could,” she said, and she meant it. “My apartment is at Oklahoma Tech. I’m staying with family for the winter break.”

  “Oklahoma Tech.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, and she knew, she just knew, that he was giving up on the possibility of spending time with her. And she knew, she just knew, that would be a mistake.

  For both of them.

  So she kissed him again, to feel the thrill of a perfect kiss once more, and to make sure he was a little drunk on the taste of her, before she asked him once more:

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Chapter Five

  His last cigarette was going to kill him.

  She tasted good on his tongue. She soothed a craving in his brain. Emily Davis was so addicting, he dreaded giving her up tonight.

  He was going to have to. She was too young; he was too jaded. She needed to go back to college; he needed the oblivion of hard labor. Geography would take them in opposite directions, as it should. It was inevitable. He was a fool to breathe her in just one more time.

  He breathed in anyway, savoring the feminine scent of the woman in his passenger seat as he drove. Maybe it was the floral smell of her shampoo as she lifted her hair from under his jacket’s collar and let it fall over her shoulder. It couldn’t have been the vanilla lip gloss—he’d kissed off the last of that. Whatever it was, he hadn’t predicted how intoxicating he’d find it. Tomorrow, when Emily Davis was gone, he hoped he wouldn’t miss it too badly.