by Em Petrova
“I’ll do that. Where’re you headed so early?”
Ford swallowed around the knot of excitement that jumped unbidden into his throat. “To the neighbor’s ranch to check something out. I’ll meet up with ya later.”
“Okay.” Easton started moving off toward the house.
“Hey, bro.”
Easton swung around.
“Next time find a hay bale or somethin’ more comfortable.” He smiled, and his brother returned it.
Walking to his truck, Ford was hyper-aware of how weird it felt to smile. Had he really been so stuck in his own anger and grief over the loss of his job and fiancée for so long that he’d forgotten the small things in life? The old Ford lived for the next chance to joke around or share a laugh. When had he become this man?
He hoped Susannah was an early riser too. He didn’t want to drag her from her bed, although the thought of disheveled hair and skimpy nighties popped into his mind.
He firmly shoved the images away, but the whole drive to the Ryan Ranch his brain kept steering him back to her. For the first time in forever, he was looking at a woman like she was a woman, with curves and pouty lips to kiss as the sun went down.
Skinny dippin’ in a pond and then carrying her to the bed of his truck, tumbling into the air mattress…
He pushed out a harsh breath and whipped off his hat to run his fingers through his hair. If he was going to work closer with this woman, he couldn’t allow daydreams to run rampant.
The Ryan Ranch had an arched gate welded from metalwork bearing the name and a horseshoe on either side of the letters, turned down to shower luck on anybody passing through.
He parked in front of a garage that told him the Ryans made a good living ranchin’. As he got out of his truck, a young guy who looked no more than eighteen came out of the building.
Ford nodded and thumbed his hat. “Hi there. Ford Dalton.”
“Ryan Ryan.”
Ford’s brows crinkled.
“Yeah, my parents could have been more imaginative, I’ve always said. But it isn’t a name people forget easily.”
“Wait, Ryan Ryan the up-and-coming bronc rider?”
His face split in a grin. “You heard o’ me?”
“Hell yeah. Saw you ride at Amarillo.”
Ryan held out a hand, and Ford clasped it, squeezing hard. They stood shooting the breeze for a minute about scores and bad rides from his opponents.
Finally, Ryan said, “What brings you up here?”
“Lookin’ for Susannah.”
“My sister?”
Ford didn’t know why it surprised him that she’d have siblings. She didn’t seem the type of spoiled only child he’d known with other girls, but she hadn’t mentioned a brother. Then again, they hadn’t really spoken much.
“I’m helping her out with some horses the Daltons have agreed to lend her for her therapy program.”
“Nice of y’all.” Ryan looked around. “At this time of day, she’ll be with Wanna-Bea.”
Ford arched a brow in question.
“Her mare. Never saw such an ornery beast in my life. When they put her on the auction block, the horse bit the handler. Why my sister wanted that horse—and only that horse—and cried until our father bid on it, I’ll never know.”
Ford found himself smiling at the image Ryan’s story conjured, and at that moment Susannah rounded the garage. The sound of her boots crunching on gravel came to a stop and she simply stared at Ford.
His smile fell. “Hey. Hope it’s not too early to talk about your program.”
She blinked and seemed to shake herself. Was she annoyed that he’d come so early and without calling first? He wasn’t the type to call ahead for anything.
“I can come back later, if you want,” he said.
“Uh, no. Now’s great. Just coming from the barn. Let me wash up.” She held up her hand, and he saw the blood trickling across her thumb.
He strode up to her and grabbed her wrist, looking down at what appeared to be a bite mark. He snapped his gaze to hers. “The mare bit you?”
“H-how did you know?” She twisted her wrist out of his grasp.
Ryan shook his head. “If you look closely, Suz has so many scars on her hand from that mare. Even got stitches once, isn’t that right, Susannah?”
“Twice,” she said faintly, still standing so close to Ford that every sensor in his body was going haywire. Red alert. Caution. Proceed at your own risk.
“I’ll just be a minute.” Susannah moved off toward the house, and Ford watched her go until he realized her brother was looking on.
Feeling under the microscope, he sauntered over to Ryan again. “So where’s the next ride?”
“Another small-town arena,” Ryan said with a shrug. “Gotta start somewhere.”
“With your scores, it won’t be long before you’re playing with the big boys.”
They talked another couple minutes before Susannah came outside again, hand bandaged. Ford watched her face for signs of pain, wondering why the hell it mattered so much to him. Of course, any nice guy wouldn’t want to see a woman hurting, but at the sight of her blood, his stomach had seriously bottomed out.
Hell, that was an understatement—he still felt sweaty and agitated that she was bleeding. He hadn’t been on a roller coaster like this since…
Since Gabby.
Ryan continued talking about how he’d gotten hung up in one of the stirrups of the last bronc he’d ridden and gotten road rash from getting dragged.
“Read about that,” Ford responded, his mind elsewhere. Like on a beautiful woman who smelled sweetly of honeysuckle and wore a pair of jeans so skin-tight that they left nothing to the imagination.
Ford’s imagination was better than most, however, and his mind had a few more daydreams to add to the scene.
“You follow the rodeo?” Susannah’s question drew Ford around. Any talk about the rodeo brought a flare of pain to his chest, a yearning for a time in his life he’d loved so well.
He gave a hard nod and dropped the subject. “Ready to show me around?”
She pursed her luscious lips and then waved toward the barn. “We’ll start with the horses, then I’ll show you the place I have set up for the kids. After that, I’d like to show you the trails.”
He looked to Ryan. “Nice talkin’ to you. Good luck on your next ride.”
“Thanks, man.”
Ford followed Susannah, too aware of the light sway of her hips as she crossed the driveway heading toward the barn. From her straight shoulders to the soft curves of her breasts, and to the dip of her waist and those hips a man could latch onto as he drove her down over his—
She tossed a look over her shoulder at him. “I think my mare’s picked up your mood this morning.”
“What?” Knowing what Ryan had told him about the animal, he wasn’t about to take responsibility for her horse’s bad behavior.
“She doesn’t usually bite.”
“Ryan said different.”
“He’s my little brother.” Her voice took on a chiding tone as if Ford didn’t know anything. “Of course he’s going to dredge up all the dirt on me.”
“If that’s the best horse you’ve got free to use around here, no wonder you came to Paradise Valley.”
“Well, I can’t argue with you on that.” She pushed open the door, and it glided smoothly along a metal track. In one of the back stalls, a mare snorted.
“That the hellion?” he asked, moving down the center aisle.
“Yes, that’s Wanna-Bea.” At its name, the mare tossed her head. “I don’t recommend getting too close.”
“I know horses.” He extended a hand, giving the beast a chance to scent him. A minute later, he was able to stroke the mare’s nose with his knuckles.
“Oh. My. God.” Susannah sounded both annoyed and awed. “I’ve been her owner for fifteen years and she bites me every chance she gets and you hold out your hand for a minute and then she lets you pet her?
”
Ford eyed Susannah. “Thought you said she never bites you.”
She groaned, and the sound went straight to his groin, like a thump of a fist. He pulled his hand back from the horse and turned to Susannah without his brain even instructing his body to move. He took a step closer. She froze, neck craned back to look up into his eyes.
“I told you I know horses.”
“And rodeos,” she said after a beat.
He nodded slowly, his gaze latching onto her plump lower lip, damp and inviting. Damn, if he didn’t walk away now, there was no guessing what he might do. His body was like a wild stallion running the open prairie, and no amount of calling for it to stop would bring it back.
He pushed out a slow breath and drew another. “What other horses do you got?”
She bit down on her lower lip, and he almost shut his eyes on the swimming feeling in his head. If he wasn’t careful, this attraction he felt to Susannah would drown him. It had been too long since he’d been around any females let alone one so beautiful.
His body remembered what to do, though.
“This way.” She waved for him to follow, and his jeans grew tighter in the crotch. Hell, he was in trouble. He couldn’t let on that if asked, he’d follow her anywhere.
But he had a few good places in mind.
* * * * *
“All the rough isn’t ridden off this road, is it?” Ford’s words shouldn’t make Susannah squirm in the saddle, but they did. Just the mention of riding anything had her hormones jumping.
“I like how you say that,” she responded before thinking.
He cut a look her way that she would never be able to read even if she had the handbook. She’d need a whole new alphabet to translate Ford’s expressions into something she could understand.
His body rolled lightly in the saddle as they navigated the trail from the barn down through a copse of trees. “This is a great exercise path for the horses. But it could use smoothin’ out. You got a front-end loader?”
“Yeah, Daddy does.”
“Why don’t we ride back and get it?” He drew up on the reins, expertly handling the unfamiliar horse that was Ryan stock, and he didn’t claim to know what went into horse therapy, but he had to admit Susannah was right in asking for some more easygoing horses.
“You want to do the work on the trail today?”
“Sure. I got the time if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t,” she sputtered. “It’s just that, I thought the Daltons might need you.”
“My brother showed up last night. Well, I found him sleeping in a wheelbarrow outside this morning.”
Her eyes bulged. “Outside? In a wheelbarrow?”
“Easton’s his own man, doesn’t give a damn what anybody thinks of him. I guess he came in late and didn’t want to wake the house.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yeah. So what about that ride back?”
The man had a one-track mind. Hopefully, that would be to her advantage with her therapy, even if it was unnerving every other time.
She guided her horse around and headed back up the trail with Ford riding abreast of her. To her surprise, the silence that fell between them wasn’t awkward. She let the quiet moment wash over her, realizing just how stressed she was about launching her program.
Tipping her head back, she reveled in the patches of sun peeking through the tree branches as they made their way. When she went to dismount, Ford was there with a hand to help her to her feet.
“I…Thank you. You don’t have to help me, though.”
“My momma raised me right. Or so I’d like her to keep on believin’.”
There it was—a quirk of his lips, just there at the corner that could be the start of another smile.
When she’d come upon Ford and her brother standing outside the garage and Ford wearing a grin, her heart had completely stopped. At the recollection, it gave a lurch that was almost pleasure-pain. Who knew what her wayward organ would do now if she saw so much as an upturn of Ford’s hard lips.
Once she showed him where the equipment he needed was, he tilted his head. “You want to do the honors?”
“I admit with four brothers, I don’t have much experience running the heavy equipment.”
His brows shot up. “Four brothers?”
She chuckled. “I forgot you aren’t from around here and don’t know my family. Yes, I’m the only girl, born smack in the middle.”
He grunted. What did that mean?
She followed him into the outbuilding and watched him inspect the machine. Okay, she didn’t give a damn about the front-end loader. She watched his hands—the way the long fingers moved over the steel. He lifted the hood and checked the oil before climbing into the seat.
“Watch yourself. I’m going to move it out of the building.”
“All right.” She got out of the way as he fired up the engine and rolled into the sunshine. Okay, now her libido was really humming. Susannah loved a capable country boy, and Ford Dalton was the whole package.
He stopped and flashed her a look, the blue of his eyes sending her pulse racing faster. “You wanna take the horse back with me or hitch a ride?”
Hitch— Her mind stumbled over his words. The equipment would only fit one person, and his big body took up all the space in the glass-enclosed cab. And while it wasn’t completely safe, she had grown up hitching a ride with her father now and then.
Those times, she’d either hold on and lean close or sit on her daddy’s lap.
She gulped, mouth suddenly dry. She wasn’t sure she should let her attraction to Ford rule her answer, yet…
“I’ll hitch a ride.” She planted a boot on the steel and pushed upward. When she crowded into the cab with him, she caught the fresh smell of soap and man. Inhaling deeply, she tried to find a spot to stand where she wasn’t touching him, but there didn’t seem to be one.
“You okay standing there like that?”
“I’ve done it with my father in the past.”
His eyes twinkled—actually twinkled with itty bitty stars—as he eyed her. “Grab onto me if you need to. I don’t want you falling over and hurting yourself.”
Her heart pulsated heavily in her throat, and she couldn’t find any response. Well, she could, but it meant jumping into his lap and clinging to his neck as he drove to the trail.
“Ready, Susannah?”
Oh lawdy, he just had to drawl like a true Texas boy, didn’t he? His voice was like match to kindling, and she was about to go up in flames.
She gripped the seat and leaned her hip against the cab wall to anchor herself. “Ready when you are.”
He faced forward and manipulated the controls. The initial lurch of the loader had her tipping forward, but she braced herself to keep from falling into Ford’s lap. She glanced down at his hard thighs clad in worn denim. Would his legs be hard or would she mold to his body?
He was staring at her. “You okay?”
She nodded. The engine noise prevented small-talk and if she opened her mouth, all she’d do was ramble anyway and probably mention how blue his eyes were.
The loader rolled on toward the trail, and she noted how he took in everything.
“Might be good to make a spot here for a picnic table or to spread a blanket,” he said.
Or spread out a blanket and roll around a little bit with you.
Oh God.
She had to put an end to these thoughts. But ever since not seeing him smile—then seeing him smile—she was experiencing what she could only call a crush.
If she was working with this man, she had to retain a professional distance. Except she was inches away from him with his scent all around her.
He stared at her as if expecting her to reply. But to what? She couldn’t remember what he’d even said, only how his drawled words had sent sparks shooting through her body.
Oh yes, the blanket or picnic table.
“That’s a great idea. Good grazi
ng for the horses as well,” she said loud enough to be heard over the engine.
As they rolled across bumpy ground, her hip slipped and she fell forward, catching herself with a hand on Ford’s shoulder.
Her first thought—My God, he’s made of steel just like this equipment.
Her second thought—I’ve forgotten how to unclamp my fingers.
He reached out an arm and slipped it around her thighs to steady her. Extreme heat shocked her system, and she let out a puff of a gasp. Their gazes locked. Five breathless heartbeats passed as the engine rumbled on but they covered no ground. She hadn’t even realized Ford had braked.
His arm lay against her thighs, warm and snug. She wet her dry lips, and he twisted his gaze away. Clearing his throat, he removed his arm and clutched the controls again.
“Hold on,” he grated out.
She stared at his profile, still reeling from his touch. Was he affected by the moment too? The pulse in his throat was erratic, too fast. Faster than usual for a male? She had no idea.
She didn’t register the rest of the ride to the roughest part of the trail Ford wanted to smooth. He braked and looked at her. This time not quite meeting her gaze but he seemed to focus on a spot around her collarbone.
“Might wanna get out and stand in a safe spot out of the way.” His voice was still grittier than normal, and she had a feeling if she tried to respond, her voice would sound stupidly breathless.
* * * * *
He watched her hop out, that rounded ass of hers branding an image on his brain. Hell if her touch wasn’t still making his shoulder burn too. What had he been thinking asking her to ride in the cab with him?
He’d been thinking about that sweet bottom of hers nestled on his thighs as the machine bumped along.
When he was sure she was safe, he worked the controls, moving the bucket forward and backward over the rough humps of earth while battling urge after urge. They were flying at him like missiles and hitting with just as much accuracy. His jeans were uncomfortably snug in the groin, and all he could think about was following the delicate lines of her collarbones with his tongue before moving down to—