“Oh, shit.” Reese stumbled into the steam, only to be caught by two strong hands.
“Whoa, there. What are you doing?” Paxton’s rich baritone sent a shiver down her spine.
“I was…” Words failed her as she realized the only thing between her and a gloriously naked cowboy, her cowboy, was the towel draped around his waist.
He loosened his grip, but didn’t release her. “You were…?”
Jesus. He wasn’t her cowboy. He wasn’t her anything. Not anymore.
Reese shrugged him off as heat filled her cheeks. She backed out of the bathroom into the relative safety of the hallway.
Not my type. Not my type.
He ran his hand through the hair that fell over his forehead, smoothing the wet strands out of his face. Up close, it was easier to see how the years had changed him. His boyish frame had been replaced with strapping muscle and hard lines. His nose was slightly crooked as though it had been broken before. His dark toffee eyes and shadowed jaw made him look almost dangerous. And entirely too sexy.
He’d grown from cute to ruggedly handsome with a side of overt masculinity that threatened to weaken her knees.
“Hi, Paxton.” Nerves attacked her stomach as she waited for him to recognize her.
Oh God, please let him recognize me.
No matter how many times she’d imagined this moment, she’d never considered what she’d do if he didn’t remember her.
Lids narrowed, he took a step toward her. “Reese? Reese Jameson? That was you I saw outside.”
Reese stood still as he looked her over, from hair to sandaled feet and back. She hadn’t seen him since her twenty-first birthday. The same day his best friend had been killed in a freak riding accident.
Hurt filled her chest. She fought back tears that should’ve been long dried up.
Was he remembering that moment? Of learning Patrick was gone just minutes after being inside her?
The most glorious night of her life, shattered by tragedy and loss. Paxton had shoved her away, overwhelmed by his anger and grief. In a fit of youthful stupidity, she’d let him, thinking it better to leave than be a constant reminder of where he was supposed to have been that night.
It was her greatest regret.
Paxton folded his arms. “What’re you doin’ here?”
She suddenly wasn’t so sure. “I’m helping Lauren and Gavin plan their wedding.”
“Ah, right. The event planner. So, is busting into my shower part of the plan?”
Her cheeks heated as the visual of him in the shower hit her. There were worse things to bust into, but that was irrelevant at the moment. “Obviously not.”
His jaw hardened. “After all these years, how would I know what’s obvious about what you’re doing?”
Okay, she probably deserved that. But, still…
“I don’t recall my phone ringing either, buddy.” Did he realize he was only wearing a towel? Good lord.
“I heard you got married,” she blurted. The news had left a permanent scar on her heart. She hadn’t meant to throw that out there, but she needed a reality check in the face of all that muscle. The reminder of his marital status was as good as throwing cold water on her libido. And at the rate her heart was racing, she’d need buckets full.
He shrugged. “Got divorced too. But, since you seem to be keeping tabs, I’m sure you heard about that.”
“I’m not—” Reese trailed off as she saw the corner of his lip twitch.
Snarky bastard.
This was not the way she’d envisioned their reunion. Not that she hadn’t expected him to be mad at her, but she’d imagined he’d at least be wearing clothes. Then again, she never could predict how things would happen when Paxton was involved. Last time she thought she had him figured out, he’d taken her to bed and given her more pleasure than she’d ever known. Then or since.
“I hadn’t heard you’d gotten divorced. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Some things aren’t meant to be.”
“I guess…” She didn’t know what else to say. Her gaze drifted. The towel draped his hips and thighs, but that didn’t stop her from remembering what was underneath. Her heart beat so hard she could feel it in her throat.
“Did you and Lauren get things hashed out?”
“What?” He really needed to put on some clothes.
“You’re planning the wedding, right? That’s why you’re here?”
“Yeah.” She shook her head, hoping the stupid that had taken possession of her brain would dissipate, and met his gaze. “I mean, yes. Lauren wanted me to help her decide on the best spot to hold the ceremony.”
“And you found a place?” he asked, as though he conversed half naked on a regular basis.
“We did.”
“So, you’re done for the night?”
“Lauren had to rush off to meet Gavin for a dinner meeting. Something about a neighboring ranch, I think she said.”
His lips pursed. He nodded as though he knew exactly what she was talking about. “That’s good.”
Awkward silence filled the space between them. His expression gave away nothing as he stared at her. He was distracting, intimidating … gorgeous.
“We should catch up. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”
Her breath caught. “You want to go out?” A sharp pang of desire tightened her stomach.
He leaned against the doorjamb, a slow smile spreading across his face. “After the day I’ve had, not so much. Since you’re here, how about I grab a couple of beers and we can chat a bit.”
“I’ve still got work to do.” Not to mention, the last time they drank together, they ended up naked. While her body thought it was an excellent idea, her heart wouldn’t survive him a second time.
“The wedding isn’t for months. You can spare a few hours for an old friend, can’t you?” He held up his palm. “I promise to be on my best behavior. Unless, of course, you don’t want me to be. Then all bets are off.” He winked at her.
He was flirting with her now? What the hell? “You think you’re gonna get lucky?”
His brows shot up. “Is that even a possibility?”
Reese hesitated long enough to see the wicked grin spread across his face. Damn it. She needed to work on her poker face.
“I suppose anything’s possible, if you think about it,” she hedged.
“That’s not an answer.” He crowded her until her back hit the wall.
She put her palms to his chest with the intent to push him away. Once the heat of his skin hit her, all she could think about was touching him, dragging her hands down until they met the edge of the towel, and then watching as it fell to the floor. “We haven’t seen each other in ten years.”
He brushed his fingertips along her cheek and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Still not an answer.”
Her stomach clenched as he leaned in, his breath minty and warm against her lips. Sweet mercy, he was going to kiss her. A kiss she was decidedly desperate for.
“Paxton.” His name came out a plea. To stop, to keep going, to heal the ache that had lived in her heart for too many years.
He cleared his throat and pulled away so abruptly, Reese’s knees almost buckled. He backed away, putting the space of the hallway between them.
“It’s good to see you again, Reesey. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Her heart threatened to melt at his use of the personal nickname, and it pissed her off. Three minutes in his presence and she’d turned into a sex-starved half-wit.
She was neither.
Reese wished she had something to hurl at his back as he walked away. Was he so unaffected by her then? Of course he was. It’d been ten years. He’d moved on. As for her … well … she didn’t know what she’d done, but it had felt a little too much like waiting for her taste
.
That stopped now.
She’d have a drink, take him up on his offer to talk so she could do what she’d come here to do. Then she’d move on, stop waiting for the impossible romantic fantasy she’d spun all those years ago.
“Give me a few minutes to clean up? I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen?”
He turned. “You look fine.”
“I’ve been outside with Lauren and am a sweaty mess. What I really need is a shower,” she mumbled.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “As you can see, I’ve already showered, but I could be convinced to have another.”
“That wasn’t an offer.”
“Pity.”
She laughed then, feeling some of her tension ease. “Ten years, and you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweets. Ten years ago, you left without a word. Don’t think for a second I’ll let that happen again. Fifteen minutes.”
He started to turn away from her, but stopped, giving her a sly smile. “It’s good to see you again, Reesey.”
Chapter Three
Paxton shut the bedroom door and leaned his forehead against it. He looked down at the wood he was sporting. Wasn’t that just perfect?
Reese fucking Jameson.
He couldn’t believe it. Just the thought of her earlier had made him hard, which, in itself, surprised him on all kinds of fucked-up levels. But actually seeing her again … holy shit. He hadn’t been prepared for that.
She’d come back into his life exactly as she’d left it.
Without warning.
Not that he blamed her for leaving. He might’ve at first, but once his grief had lifted, he realized what a total jackass he’d been. Too little, too late. Hell, people did stupid shit when they were young, and he’d been no exception. He’d been arrogant and self-absorbed. Ten feet tall and fucking bulletproof. Consequences were for the poor bastards who didn’t know better. And, of course, he’d known everything.
How he’d love to go back and kick his younger self’s ass nine ways to Sunday. Might’ve saved him a lot of heartache on the flip side.
He wasn’t that naive, carefree kid anymore. Life had kicked him in the balls one too many times for him to believe in happy endings.
He wanted to know why she was here after all this time. They’d known each other since high school, for fuck’s sake. He remembered thinking maybe they’d end up like his parents or his older sister Erin—married to their high school sweethearts. He and Reese never officially dated, but he’d thought about it, so there must have been feelings there before that night.
The night he’d taken her innocence and lost his best friend. The latter, he sorely regretted, the other … not so much.
Time healed all wounds.
How many times had he heard that in his life? Too fucking many.
He tossed the wet towel to the floor and pulled on a pair of jeans, gritting his teeth as he zipped them over his swollen cock.
He grabbed a T-shirt—its once black faded to the color of used charcoal, but it was comfortable and clean—and shoved his arms through the sleeves. He ducked, pulled the shirt over his head, and tugged it into place.
Reese had grown into a striking woman. She had the kind of curves a man ached to touch. Her ass in those shorts about killed him. His vision blurred with the memory of how it’d felt to grip her hips and … yeah, he’d taken her virginity in every way possible that night, straining to keep up with her demands for more.
Fuck.
He’d rather not have zipper marks tattooed on his dick by the end of the night, so he’d better get his shit straight. Stop thinking about the past.
But damn, she’d smelled good, like the wildflowers that grew around the ranch. The creamy tone of her skin flushed with the late summer heat and her lips … Jesus. Shiny and pink, her lips had tempted him to see if that gloss was flavored.
Which wouldn’t be fair to her.
Sure, they had history, most of which had been fairly good if he didn’t count the end. That’s how relationships worked, right? Everything was good … until it wasn’t. Only for him and Reese, it’d gone from the most amazing sex of his life, to over in a heartbeat. Or rather, in a phone call.
They’d never had a chance to actually be a couple.
Funny how he’d never felt cheated about that until this moment.
Deciding to leave his feet bare, he pulled the door shut behind him, and with it, closed off his trip down memory lane. The time for him and Reese had passed. He wasn’t looking for another relationship. Not even with her.
Time didn’t heal shit. It only left deep scars where naiveté and hope once lived.
He jogged down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen. The hub of the house felt as familiar as an old pair of jeans, yet stood unusually quiet since his parents had left.
A wall of brick housed two stainless steel ovens and arched over a gas cooktop that sported six burners and a grill. A matching refrigerator centered the adjoining wall, guarded by cedar cabinets his father had hand-crafted to his mom’s specifications. For as long as he could remember, Evelyn Mathis had ruled this space as a revolving door of kids and ranch hands passed through.
The only action the kitchen saw these days came from Erin, who had claimed the position of temporary matriarch, and made daily rounds to ensure Pax wasn’t allowing the twins to starve.
He kept the herd alive and thriving. He could handle a couple of kids.
He opened the fridge and grinned at the stacks of food containers. Of course, who was he to complain if Erin wanted to cook? Looked like a win-win to him.
He grabbed two longnecks and elbowed the door shut as he twisted the caps. He set one aside and tipped the other to his mouth.
Reese walked into the kitchen, a sexy smile teasing the corners of her mouth.
He stood at the enormous, curved island—the centerpiece of the kitchen and lately, where he ate most of his meals. “You look like the cat that ate the canary. What’s up?” Paxton waved her toward a barstool.
Reese hooked her purse on the back, settled onto the seat, and took the beer he held out for her. “Hot guy. Cold beer. Do the math,” she teased. A pretty blush crept over her cheeks.
Pax drank his beer while Reese looked everywhere but at him. He leaned forward on his elbows. “If it’s possible, you’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”
Her smile indicated she thought he was full of shit. Or maybe it was the eye roll. “And you’re still a charmer.”
“Just stating a fact.” He moved around the bar to slide onto the stool next to her. He turned until they were knee-to-knee and relaxed against the back of the stool. “So, Reese, what have you been doing with yourself?”
She glanced to where his jeans touched her bare legs. “Nothing too exciting. I finished college, started a business.”
She cradled her beer in her lap. Her nails toyed with the edge of the label and he wondered what she wasn’t telling him. A lot, he supposed. Stuff he shouldn’t care about. Stuff that wasn’t any of his business.
“You plan mostly weddings?”
She raised a smooth, toned shoulder. “Weddings, fundraisers, that kind of thing. I enjoy the creativity of it, and what I do helps to make people happy. It may sound silly, but I like it. I stay as busy as I want, and it pays the bills. What about you? Still a rancher, huh?”
As though he’d be anything else. He’d been chasing cows since he could walk. Being a rancher didn’t leave much free time—something his ex-wife always complained about—but he loved the freedom working the land, the herd, provided. Loved working outside and getting his hands dirty. Loved being a part of what his family had worked for generations to create.
A legacy that would be carried on by his siblings and their children. Pax had given up all hope of having a family of his own
, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t leave his mark, however subtle.
“Still and always,” he sighed and snatched the now freed label from her hand.
She finally met his gaze. “Why do you say it like that? Being a rancher is in your blood. It’s who you are.”
He knew that. He’d only been trying to get her to look at him and stop with the damn label.
“And you know this how?”
Tammy hadn’t gotten it. She’d married him with the idea he led some kind of glamorous lifestyle. Shadow Maverick was successful because he worked damned hard to make it that way, as did the rest of his family. He refused to sit on the sidelines while everyone else did the work, as Tammy had wanted him to do.
It irritated the shit out of him Reese seemed to understand him better than his ex had. Irritated him even more to realize he wanted her. Right here, right now.
Damn him to hell, he still remembered how Reese tasted, how hot and sweet her mouth felt on his cock, the way her body tightened as she came.
He remembered other things too. The sound of her laugh, her sassy mouth, and the way she chewed her nails when she was nervous.
All of which spelled trouble for his confirmed bachelorhood.
Old feelings threatened to resurface. He shoved the rising emotion back, sent it deep where it belonged. He didn’t need that shit anywhere near the surface if they ended up naked, and the way her gaze roamed his body said the odds of that happening were pretty damn good.
Reese took a long pull from her beer before she answered. “Years don’t change who a man is, you know, deep in his soul. And don’t you dare laugh at me because I said that.”
His soul might not have changed, but he couldn’t say how well the rest of him had fared. “I’m not the same guy you knew.”
She shook her head, undaunted. “And I’m not the same girl. I didn’t say the years don’t leave scars, Paxton. I’m only suggesting—”
He held up a hand to stay her. Hadn’t he had the same thought?
Borrowed Cowboy Page 2