Tough Luck Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  He’d wanted the nickname to sound teasing, but instead it had come out soft and warm, like sweetheart was a word he could use and really mean. Like she’d believe that he meant it.

  She must not have noticed the change in tone because she just kept working as she spoke.

  “Coq au vin.”

  He raised a brow. “Cock oh what? Why, Lily Green, are you coming on to me?”

  She snorted and threw a dish towel at him. “It’s French, you adolescent. For chicken and wine.”

  She shook her head and laughed some more, and he looked on as she continued her well-choreographed dance that had her spinning from the counter to the stove and back again.

  “And you just happened to have all these ingredients lying around for such a fancy meal?”

  She covered the wine-soaked chicken and vegetables on the stove and wiped her hands on a towel she’d tucked into the top of her jeans. Then she gave him something between a wince and a smile.

  “Wait,” he said. “You have a weekly meal calendar. Don’t you?”

  She lifted her wineglass to her perfect pink lips. “Maybe?” she said.

  He laughed until he conjured the image of her toiling away in this kitchen by herself—of her sitting alone while she ate. It wasn’t much different from what he was used to—a couple of beers and a frozen pizza—the single guy’s home-cooked meal. But at least it took zero effort to provide himself with sustenance. What Lily was creating was art. How had Tucker missed that?

  “I love what I do, Luke. So stop feeling sorry for me.”

  He snapped himself out of his daze, his eyes meeting hers.

  “I wasn’t—” he said. “I mean, I didn’t—”

  She sipped her wine and laughed softly. “I know it seems silly for me to plan out my weekly meals or to go to so much trouble when it’s just me, but this is what makes me happy.”

  She spun toward the stove, turned the heat to a simmer, and then tossed her towel on the counter.

  “We’ve got about fifteen minutes,” she said. “Let’s sit.”

  They took their drinks to the couch, to where just last night he’d crossed over the line between what he wanted and what he knew was the right decision. But maybe the definition of right had changed. Tucker had moved on. Like Lily said, he had no claim on her anymore. He’d understand if something unexpectedly sparked between her and Luke.

  But would he forgive Luke if his spark had burned a bit longer than Lily’s?

  “What’s that for?” she asked as they both collapsed onto the couch.

  “What’s—?”

  She brushed her thumb over the crease between his eyebrows, and his shoulders relaxed at her touch.

  “You look worried about something. And the Luke Everett I’ve come to know doesn’t worry.”

  She set her glass on the coffee table. She took his bottle from his hand and did the same. Then she proceeded to crawl into his lap, straddling him as she cupped his face in her hands.

  “I know what you told me outside was hard. And I also know that you don’t want to talk about it further. But I think it’s important that you know there’s nothing you could say that would make me not want you like this.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and let his head fall onto her chest.

  You’re going to ruin me, he thought. But those weren’t the words that came out of his mouth. Instead he said, “Goddamn you smell good.”

  She laughed. “I call it garlic and thyme. You think I should bottle and sell it?”

  He lifted his head. There was a flicker of something in her green eyes that he didn’t understand. All he knew was that he wanted to kiss her—needed to kiss her—now.

  “What you got, sweetheart? There’s no way to contain that in a bottle.”

  And just as her breath hitched in response, his lips claimed hers, consuming her with a need he’d pushed so far down, he hadn’t thought it possible to resurface. But here it was, making his chest ache and his heart race.

  She parted her lips, and he could taste it, that emotion he couldn’t quite name, the one he’d forced himself to believe he was content without. That he could have been content without her.

  Because the only thing he’d ever truly hated about Lily Green was that she chose Tucker. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d already fallen for her years ago—her strength and determination to succeed, that she knew what she wanted and went for it. Even that she’d call him on his bullshit instead of just walking away because God knew he did enough to push her. It might have been her blond pixie cut and short skirt that caught his attention three years ago, but it had been everything else that had made it impossible for him to truly walk away. Once he cleared everything up with Tucker, then maybe he’d actually have a shot at getting her to fall for him right back.

  She ground her pelvis against his, and he growled her name.

  “Lily.”

  She gasped and pulled away. “Did I hurt you? Shit, I keep forgetting that you’re sitting there all broken inside. I’m sorry.” A timer went off in the kitchen, and she sucked in another sharp breath. “The chicken! I’ll be right back!” She gave him a quick kiss. “Actually, no. I need you at the table.” She was a frenzy of movement now. “But I promise to be more careful with you later!” she teased as she raced into the kitchen.

  He just laughed, his physical injuries the furthest thing from his mind.

  He was all broken inside. She hadn’t gotten that part wrong. But for the first time in years he was starting to believe those pieces might be ready to be put back together.

  “So?” Lily asked, pouring him a glass of wine. “What did you think?”

  He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in the goblet.

  “On a scale of one to ten?” he asked, not yet giving her the satisfaction of a grin.

  “Sure,” she said, eyes bright, hopeful, earnest.

  Had they always been like that?

  “Come on, Luke! You’re killing me.”

  She snapped him out of his head.

  He cleared his throat. “Come on, Lily,” he said, mimicking her. “You know you’re a goddamn artist in the kitchen. What you just threw together? I’m going out on a limb and saying it’s the best damn meal I’ve ever had. You tell my aunt Jenna I said that, though, and I’ll call you a liar.” She laughed. “But a guy sure could get used to that kind of treatment.”

  He winced a little at his own statement, thinking about how Tucker had been the one on the receiving end of such treatment for the better part of three years.

  She leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “What is it?” she asked. “It doesn’t do much for my ego if you compliment my cooking and then grimace.”

  He forced a laugh. “The food was outstanding. It’s just little reminders, you know? Of you and—”

  “Tucker,” she said, finishing his sentence. “I get that he’s been in your life a hell of a lot longer than me. Bros before hos and all.”

  He shook his head. “God I hate that phrase.”

  She laughed. “Good. Me, too.” But then her face grew serious again. “But it doesn’t make it not true. Your loyalties lie with him first. He’s your family. Blah-blah. If this is too weird, then just say so.”

  He shook his head again and pulled out his phone. “I just need to tell him. Get it out in the open.”

  What the hell he was going to say was another thing entirely. Were they dating now? Just sleeping together and agreeing they didn’t hate each other? How far into the truth did he get with Tucker? With Lily? Because honesty was important. And the way he saw it, that started now, right? With Tucker and with Lily.

  “Speak of the devil,” he said. “Looks like he texted me an hour ago. Must have missed it.” His brows pulled together. “You’re on the thread, too.”

  She scooted her chair next to his, and they read the message together.

  Hey guys. Guess the whole allergic reaction thing yesterday threw Sara for a loop. She wants to get a
way and “recenter.” Headed to Grass Valley for a two-week yoga/meditation retreat at this ashram Sara loves. Wish me luck. No cell phones allowed. Don’t worry, Lil. I got the restaurant covered. But if you happen to check in and see all hell has broken loose? Well, don’t call. I won’t get the message. Be back in time for final walk-through of the venue. Sent Jack what we’d like to do for tables already. Lil, we trust you on the menu. Yesterday was a fluke. Luke, just—keep an eye on everything for me, yeah? Thanks, man.

  He quickly hit the call back button, realizing his only shot at coming clean was now.

  “Tuck!” he said, grateful his friend was able to pick up. “You’re still there!”

  Lily’s eyes widened.

  “Just about to power down, actually,” Tucker said. “You literally caught me with my thumb on the power button. Sara’s gonna kill me if I don’t drop my phone in this confiscation basket in the next thirty seconds.” He laughed.

  Luke’s palms were sweating, and he thought he might drop his own phone. Christ, he could sit on the back of a bull but was losing his shit trying to tell Tucker…Shit, what was he actually going to say?

  “Look, man,” he said. “I need to tell you something before you go dark. It’s about Lily, and it’s something I probably should have told you—”

  “I’ve got fi…een…econds…”

  Shit. He was cutting out.

  “Tuck,” he said again. “You’re breaking up. I need to tell you about Lily. Lily and me.”

  “Sorry, Everett. Reception is crap. Guess that’s how they kee…us…cheating…”

  And then the call ended.

  “Dammit!” He slammed his phone down onto the table. “Shit,” he hissed, checking to make sure the thing was still in one piece.

  Lily’s hand was on his. “Hey,” she said, her voice gentle and soothing. “You tried. It’s not your fault he left town.”

  He blew out a breath, and with it, as much of the tension as he could.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I just wish I could have said—”

  “What?” Lily blurted. “What exactly would you have said? I mean, I know what you need to tell him, but I guess I was just curious about how you would word it because…like…am I supposed to tell people? Do you want to stop having sex until Tucker gets back? Because I’ve gone longer than two weeks before, but then I hadn’t known what sex was like with…” Her cheeks reddened. “Should we—”

  He kissed her, slid his fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck, and grinned as she sighed against him, kissing him back.

  “It’s killing you not to have a plan. Isn’t it?”

  “Slowly and painfully,” she said with something between a laugh and a whimper. “But I meant what I said, that I’m not looking for anything past the here and now, which means I don’t need a label.”

  He kissed her again.

  “I’d like to label that as delicious, though,” she told him. “Your mouth and that stubble. Don’t ever shave that stubble or whatever we’re doing here is over.”

  He chuckled, a deep throaty sound. He didn’t laugh like this with anyone else. True, he was always the first to note the humor in any situation or to fall back on it when things got too serious. But laughing with Lily was effortless. She brought out of him what he had to force with so many others.

  “Ava’s birthday is next weekend,” he said. “Jack’s just doing something small—Ava’s parents, Owen, Jenna, us, and maybe a few friends from her art program. You should come.”

  She skimmed her teeth over her bottom lip. “I’m—already on the guest list. I’m baking the cake, actually.”

  Luke groaned. “I’m not asking if you want a ride. I’m asking you to come with me. Like we show up together—and leave together.”

  She raised her brows. “So this isn’t a secret?”

  He shook his head.

  “And you don’t want to put it on hold until Tucker gets back?”

  He had contemplated that. But he’d also rationalized what Lily had already said. Tucker didn’t get a say in Lily’s love life, especially now that he’d moved on. And if Lily chose Luke now—even if he technically was her second choice—then he had just as much right to choose her back.

  He shook his head again.

  She rested a hand on his thigh, her palm noticeably warm, even through his jeans.

  “So, if we leave together…from the party, what will we do—after?”

  He slid a hand up her thigh, stopping when his thumb reached the bottom of her zipper. He stroked up the seam, and she sucked in a breath.

  “Maybe we need a little preview,” he started, but then she jumped up from the chair.

  “Dessert!” she said. “I forgot dessert!” She bolted for the fridge, throwing the door open, and when she turned back to the table with a glass bowl in her hand, he was standing right behind her, waiting.

  “Lily?” he said.

  “Luke?”

  “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  She nodded slowly.

  “But we’ve already done this. Twice.” Though he knew this time would be different. They could chalk up yesterday and this morning to the heat of the moment, to an unexpected encounter culminating after a couple weeks of brewing tension. But now they’d made a decision. And although they’d agreed this wasn’t serious or permanent, it was something. Something that he was suggesting they put out there for everyone to see.

  “Whatcha got there?” he asked, glancing down at the glass bowl in her arms.

  She cleared her throat. “Homemade white chocolate mousse with raspberry swirl.”

  He laughed. “That you just happen to have lying around.”

  She shrugged and gave him a beautiful yet sheepish grin.

  He dipped his finger into the mousse and spread it across her bottom lip.

  “Oh,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  And then he licked the decadent confection away.

  “Oh,” she said again, this time breathier than the last.

  “We’re just eating dessert, sweetheart. Nothing to be nervous about.”

  He took the bowl from her hands, set it on the counter, and then lifted her up so she was sitting beside it. Wordlessly, he pulled her shirt over her head, unclasped her bra. Then he painted each breast, each rosy peaked nipple, until soft, delicious whimpers fell from her lips.

  He dipped his head, but then looked up through a hooded gaze.

  “Just so you know,” he said. “Dessert’s my favorite part of the meal.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  She dipped her own finger into the bowl, then pressed it to his lips. His tongue swirled over her flesh, and she held her breath—waiting, wondering.

  She knew this thing with Luke could end as quickly and unexpectedly as it had begun. Still, she couldn’t help but think of how dinner with Tucker had never been like this—an experience so sensual and intimate that it changed their whole dynamic.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he painted her breasts again. She’d thought it was wrong to compare, that Luke wasn’t Tucker and vice versa. But God she’d never felt so—so Lily. Did it even make sense, that she could feel more herself with a man who was so beyond her comfort zone that she could no longer find said zone even if she had a map?

  Maybe there was no stability with Luke, but there was this. His igniting in her what she didn’t even know was there. The thought of ever dousing the flame made her chest ache, so instead she focused on the here and now.

  “I like dessert, too,” she said, her voice punctuated by tiny gasps as he licked and nipped at her tight peaks. And when he carried her off to the bedroom—God she loved how he did that—it was without the mousse. Because the only thing he seemed hungry for—was her.

  He laid her down on the bed, then silently eased her out of her jeans and what she knew were decidedly unsexy cotton bikini briefs, but he still looked at her with a reverence she wasn’t used to.

  His jaw tightened, but he st
ill didn’t speak—just removed his own clothing in the same soundless manner, an undeniable look of appreciation in those blue eyes that always wore a mask of amusement that she now knew was an act.

  But he was no longer acting for her.

  She stared at the beautiful man bared before her, wondering if her eyes told a similar story. That this was different. That he was different. Just weeks ago she’d thought they couldn’t last more than a few minutes in the same room without tearing each other’s heads off. Now she wanted him with a hunger that felt insatiable and couldn’t fathom how they’d gotten from there to here.

  “Luke,” she started, but she didn’t know what came next.

  He lowered himself over her in response, nudging her opening, testing to see if she was ready.

  She nodded, answering his unasked question, and he sank in slowly, deliberately, until he filled her so completely she wasn’t sure she’d survive him pulling out.

  He said nothing as he moved within her, as he rolled them to their sides so he could kiss her, the stubble she’d warned him not to shave grazing her skin, leaving her raw.

  He pivoted again so she now straddled him, and gripped her thighs in his rough palms. His blue eyes were open and clear, locked on her as he simply watched their bodies move. She’d never felt more exposed—and never wanted to reveal herself to anyone else like she did now.

  She tilted her hips and sank over him again, so close but wanting to prolong the moment of teetering on the edge. It was everything like the night before yet so entirely different.

  “Luke,” she said again as she slid down his length, her aching core burning from kindling to an unstoppable wildfire.

  “You’re safe with me, sweetheart,” was all he said, but it was enough to give her permission to come undone, and come undone she did.

  Wholly and completely until her muscles and bones no longer had the ability to hold her up, and she collapsed in a heap beside him, their bodies still joined.

  He lifted a lock of hair, damp with sweat, from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

  “Best dessert I ever had,” he said with a grin, and she watched him retreat back behind the mask, taking comfort in knowing that she had the power to see beneath it, if only for brief periods of time.