by Em Petrova
She didn’t realize he’d walked around the truck until her door opened. He stood there, a smile on his face. He reached out, and she took his hand.
* * * * *
Helping Susannah into the bed of his truck felt like a dream. Her excitement after the open house had been so infectious, he didn’t want it to end. When she’d asked him to take her somewhere, he’d done what any red-blooded cowboy would have done and led her to his truck.
She sat on the tailgate and tipped her head back to stare at the sky. The arch of her throat pulled his desires right to the surface, so close that one word would have him out of his head with need. She was so beautiful, so close.
He took a seat next to her, careful to keep enough distance between their bodies. Just her sleeve brushing his could strip away his control.
“You did great tonight. You talk to people so easily.”
She turned her head to look at him. “Thank you for the compliment. It’s not always so easy for me.”
Surprised, he arched a brow. “Really?”
“Would you believe I was the shy girl growing up?”
He smiled and leaned back on his hands. “Not an easy path with brothers, I imagine.”
“Exactly! Of course, you’d know being part of a big family too.”
“My sisters would have stories to tell, I’m sure.”
“I’m so excited to get started at the end of the week. I couldn’t have done it without you, Ford.”
He gave a light shake of his head, humbled that she’d include him in her success. “All I did was bring up a few horses, and not even the amount you need. I’ll have more for you in the morning.”
“Thank you. And you did help—without your input, I wouldn’t have thought about that gate being a hazard.”
“I saw you got it changed out.”
“In the nick of time.” She leaned back on her hands too. The action thrust her breasts upward, and all he could think of doing was burying his face between them and nuzzling from nipple to nipple until he felt them grow hard beneath her top.
His cock hardened, and he stifled a groan. Fixing his gaze firmly on the heavens, he picked out his favorite constellation, Taurus. He pointed. “You can only see that constellation for a short time in Texas.”
“So it’s ours for the time being.”
God, had she just lumped them together? He had to stop the thoughts racing through his mind. He was willing to confess he was lonely, but he was also wary and jaded. Maybe she was only flirting—it had been so long since he’d experienced such a thing that he was probably rusty, though he’d give it a go.
Flirting he could do.
“Sure, we can call Taurus ours. Fitting, don’t ya think, with us sitting here in a field looking at a bull?”
She nodded, a smile stretched over her face. “Definitely. I’m wondering, though.”
“About what?”
“Why you’d choose a bull as your favorite constellation. Is it because you’re full of it?”
He laughed, and she followed, the warm sounds blending in the night air to join the chorus of peeper frogs and crickets.
He scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, creating a rasping sound. Before coming up to the open house, he’d shaved, but it’d sprouted back already. He wasn’t even going to entertain a single thought about running his jaw over her sensitive skin and marking her.
Shaking himself, he said, “Are you comfortable?”
“Maybe we could spread out that blanket?”
“Sure.” Gut tightening at the prospect of lying down with Susannah, he got to his knees and moved farther up the truck bed, spreading the blanket he carried around with him.
She twisted to watch, and once he had the edges extended and the blanket relatively flat, she crawled onto it. When she stretched out with one arm pillowing her head, he had to count backward from ten three times before he could even make a move to lie down too.
On his back, he stared up at the stars but he was only seeing Susannah beside him, her long blonde hair silvery in the moonlight and all those soft curves beckoning to him.
He pushed out an unsteady breath and drew in an even more unsteady one.
She turned onto her side, eyes burning through the night and right into his soul. “Does lying on the hard metal like this hurt your back?” she asked.
He had to think about the question. He was in pain, all right, but not the kind she mentioned. “There’s always some pain. When I’m old, I’ll probably have to get one of those motorized wheelchairs.”
She giggled. “You could have it painted in spots like a paint mare.”
He chuckled, too low and throaty. She had to know how much he wanted her right now just from that sound. “Since I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, I’d have to find someone who does.”
“My brother Parker’s good with a brush.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t resist turning onto one side to face her. With less than a foot of space between them, he felt the warmth coming off her body and grew aware of how fast her breaths were coming. Was she still excited from the day or could it be something more?
It didn’t matter—he couldn’t take things further with Susannah. It wouldn’t be fair to her, when his heart was too locked up.
“Ford…”
He stared at her mouth, his entire body shaking. “Yes?”
“Why did you kiss me yesterday in the barn?”
He lifted his gaze to hers and wished he hadn’t because even through the darkness, he could read desire there. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I guess I wanted to.”
A beat of silence passed. Then she said, “Would you want to kiss me again?”
Oh God, Susannah.
Without speaking and unable to think clearly, he inched across the bed toward her, reaching to cup her cheek. A shudder ran through her, and he felt it deep in his core. When he leaned closer, it was by degrees, giving her all the time in the world to change her mind.
“Ford.”
“Yeah, I want to kiss you again,” he breathed against her lips a split second before crushing his down on hers. A floating feeling swept him up and he deepened the kiss, finding her hip and tugging her to him until their bodies met.
The moment she touched her tongue to his, his cock swelled to full mast, need pounding through his veins. His heart thundered in his ears or maybe that was real thunder—he didn’t care right now.
He brushed his mouth across hers over and over, harder with each pass until a soft moan escaped her. He echoed it with a groan of his own and moved his hand up her hip, exploring the dip of her waist and the path of torture to her soft breast. When he cupped it in his hand, she let out a cry and yanked him down harder.
Their kisses grew untamed and out of control. He kneaded her breast until the tip was a sharp peak. Then he slid his hand under her top and found the lacy cup of a bra that was no match for his questing fingers.
He eased his fingertip under the lace and she arched up to meet his touch. He’d removed his hat before lying down and she tugged at the strands of hair on his nape as she angled her mouth for more.
“Touch me, Ford. It feels so good.” Her plea couldn’t go unanswered, now could it? He leaned over her, staring into her eyes. Something passed between them, and he dropped his head to the crest of her breasts.
“I can’t mess up our working relationship.” He panted, so close to just tearing off her clothes and taking her.
“There is no working relationship. I’m a one-woman business. I don’t need anything more than the horses.”
He looked down at her. “You can’t handle it all on your own.” People could get hurt.
She gazed back, the sparks in her eyes cooling off considerably. “I can handle it.”
“You think you can.” She could get hurt.
She pushed away from him. Pain ricocheted through him.
He rolled to his back and slung his forearm over his eyes, blocking out anything but the sound of his own h
arsh breathing and the nightlife singing backup.
* * * * *
When Ford released her, she was dunked in icy realization.
This man was damaged.
Something had happened beyond losing the position he loved with the rodeo or living with pain from his injury. He was locked inside, unable to let himself go, to be free to feel and live his life.
Plus, he clearly believed her an incapable idiot. She’d been around horses since the day she was pushed out of the womb—why now wouldn’t she be able to handle them? She couldn’t afford to hire a hand in her business—her margins were small as it was, and she would never launch at all if she ate up her profits with employment.
Her idea of having a one-on-one program, introducing the children to the animals, wouldn’t require special help. In time, if they wanted to ride them, she’d put together a new plan and definitely include certified aides. But until then…
No, she had it all worked out. She was an excellent horsewoman and had certifications in teaching special needs children. She could easily manage the horses and teaching the kids.
The cooler air kissed her skin, and she tugged her top back into place, her nipples still straining and a hunger burning inside her that she had no idea what to do with now that he’d denied her.
Part of her felt the sting of rejection, but mostly she was annoyed with Ford.
After a long minute, he said, “I’m sorry, Susannah.”
She could say it was all right, but each time she set eyes on him now, she wouldn’t know how to proceed. Did she pretend he hadn’t dizzied her with kisses or had her begging him to touch her?
He sat up and looked her in the eyes. “I don’t want to mess things up for you.”
She sat up too, cross-legged. Mess things up? “I don’t understand how you could.”
“Believe me, I could. Besides, I don’t think you’re a one-night stand kind of woman, and my time is limited in Paradise Valley.”
The idea of him leaving town and her not seeing him shoved the irritation about her business from her mind. “You’ll go home soon?”
He shrugged, his big shoulder making her fingers twitch with the need to dig in and pull him back to her. “I can’t say. I guess I don’t want to start something with you that I can’t… finish.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, looking so sharp it could slice open his throat.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she nodded. “Well, then I guess we’ll just look at the stars, okay?” As she turned her attention to the sky once again, she didn’t even see the heavenly bodies that made up the beauty there. She only thought of how good their kisses had been, how right they felt. And if she’d ever experience another.
Chapter Six
The day was typical Texas—ninety degrees the minute the sun rose and humidity making Ford’s clothes stick to his skin just from the physical labor of breathing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved this land with a passion he only shared for the animals on it.
Ford turned at the sound of a bootstep behind him. When he set eyes on the beautiful cowgirl approaching the paddock, his chest constricted. Yeah, there was something else to feel passion for…
“Hey,” he said. “I brought the horses as promised.”
She glanced over the animals. “Beautiful. Good stock.” She offered him a smile and held out a mug to him.
The rich scents of coffee filled his head and he looked down at the surface of the liquid. A little cowboy boot floated on top made out of…
“Cinnamon?”
She nodded, beaming. “I did a stint at the local coffee shop to help put myself through college.”
“I’m impressed.” And hungry—but not for food. He was still more than turned on from the previous night in the bed of his truck. Though he’d clearly ticked her off by saying she needed help with the horse program.
After the silence had stretched on, they’d given up the pretense of star-gazing and he’d driven her home. She’d waved at him and gone into the house without a word.
Then Ford had lain in bed all night, tossing and turning and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. A beautiful woman was throwing herself at him and he was too chicken-shit to open up his heart again.
He scuffed a boot along the dirt, cradling the mug in one hand. “About last night—”
“No big deal. We got carried away and it didn’t work out.”
Like hell it didn’t work out—his tight jeans were testimony that it damn well could work out.
To cover his discomposure, he took a sip of the coffee. Surprised, he lowered the mug. “This is fantastic.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was a ray of sunshine he hadn’t realized he was missing from his life. Up until last night, he’d convinced himself he didn’t need more than his work in Paradise Valley. Then he’d agreed to a little flirting and even a date in the bed of a truck. But he couldn’t offer her more than that and his help with her program.
“Susannah, about the help I said you needed—”
She whirled to go back the way she’d come. “Just leave the mug on the porch step when you’re done. Thanks for bringing the horses.”
Stubborn woman.
He watched her sashay all the way back to the house, throbbing with the desire to run up and grab her and toss her onto the nearest hay bale. Having his way with her was a sheer, primal need right now—like breathing was.
And whether or not she liked it, he was going to be there beside her when she had clients—for all of their safety.
The ATV rolling up next to the corral had him tearing his gaze from the bewitching woman. Ryan threw him a grin. “Susannah brought you one of her specialty drinks? You must be special.”
He looked into the mug where the cowboy boot had swirled into the depths. Being special to Susannah scared the hell out of him.
“Never saw my sister bother making one of her coffees for anyone but my parents on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day. What’d you do to her?”
“Brought her horses.” He lifted his shoulder and let it fall.
Ryan chuckled. “That’ll do it. Were you headin’ back to the Dalton’s ranch anytime soon?”
“Why, you need a hand at something?”
“Yeah, one of the hired hands is down with a summer flu, and we could use another body to make hay. We can pay you.”
“No need. Just let me make a call to Hank and let him know I’ll be back for evening chores.” He balanced the mug on the railing and took out his phone. In a minute he had the news on the ranch—the belt on the truck had finally snapped and he and Cash were replacing it while the others finished the haying from the previous day, but they could spare Ford’s help today.
When he pocketed his phone again, he drained his mug. “Susannah told me to leave this on the porch and then I’m ready to help.”
“Good deal.”
All afternoon, Ford busted his butt on a ranch that meant nothing to him—but the woman who lived on it was the focus of his hard work. He wanted the ranch to be a success for her family—and for her. Even if nothing could happen between them, he thought so highly of her.
But she made me that coffee.
And asked me to touch her more.
Great, now his pulse was tripping again.
When he glanced up from his work, he spotted two blondes crossing the field to where they were baling, a big wicker basket carried between them.
Ryan nudged him in the shoulder. “Lunch has arrived.”
Lunch. Dear God, what he wouldn’t give to eat that sweet little blonde morsel coming toward him with a smile on her face. He was pouring with sweat and had hay stuck to his skin, and she looked like she’d just stepped off a photoshoot for cowgirl boots.
She and Mrs. Ryan set the basket down, and Susannah faced Ford. “This is my mother, Nicole. Momma, meet Ford Dalton.”
“He most definitely is a Dalton. You look like you were born to Paradise Valley.” The older woman was still beautiful, and he could see how Susannah
would look in thirty years.
“Ma’am.” He doffed his hat in greeting.
“And good Southern manners too. Well, we’ve brought y’all some lunch. Chicken fried steak sliders, homemade potato chips and cherry turnovers for dessert. Susannah made those herself.”
Ford stuck his hat back on his head. “Can I carry this somewhere for you ladies?”
“That’s kind of you, Ford. We usually set it on the ground and everyone gathers round picnic style.” Susannah threw him a smile brighter than the Texas sun. He smiled back, but he couldn’t help but wonder why she believed him worthy of a smile, a special coffee or anything else after he’d left her hanging the previous night.
Susannah turned toward the field, stuck her fingers in her mouth and executed a shrill whistle worthy of any man. Impressed, Ford smiled and studied Susannah’s beautiful features in profile.
When he glanced away, his gaze met Mrs. Ryan’s. She was staring at him with an amused smile of her own. He shook it off and watched as the guys drifted over to eat.
Dirty, sweaty and in good spirits, the Ryan men and their hired hands collapsed in a ring around the picnic basket.
“Man, you smell. Get away from me.” Ryan pushed Lee in the shoulder, but Lee didn’t even budge.
“That smell’s called hard work, brother. If you did a little yourself, you might smell the same.”
Mrs. Ryan and Susannah started setting out the food and handed them two chicken sliders apiece and a wax paper pouch full of homemade chips. The wax was dotted with grease, and the scents of fried food made Ford’s stomach growl.
“Don’t tell my aunt or momma, but I’ve never smelled such a good meal,” he said.
Susannah flashed a smile that lit up his world and passed him a bottled water. With a nod of thanks, he cracked it open and took a long swallow.
The Ryan boys were still ribbing each other and one of the hands had already polished off a slider.