“Dammit, Mary Beth, I told you to wait!” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her sprawled on the floor, and his fingers tightened on the compress in his hand. Kneeling beside her, he lifted her and once again carried her to her bedroom. “You have got to be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met!”
“I was trying to—”
“I know,” Deke said, gritting his teeth. Didn’t she realize she was doing more harm to herself? “You wanted to do it yourself.” Lowering her to the bed, he sat beside her and held on to her when she tried to scoot away. “Are you all right?” he asked, running his gaze over her, the irritation in his voice nearly gone.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Mary Beth’s response came out a whisper as she became aware of their intimate surroundings, of how good it felt to be touched by him. She stared at his blond hair as he ran his big hands over her arms, checking for bruises. He was sitting so close that she could see each single strand, so close that it would only take a slight move on her part to be in his arms.
Seeing that she looked as if she hadn’t done any damage to herself, Deke lifted his face to hers, and their eyes locked. He lost all sense of thought as his hands gripped her shoulders. Her scent surrounded him, stealing his ability to do something as simple as breathe.
He should let her go. It would be the smart thing to do. But Deke wasn’t thinking about being smart. All he could think about is what it would feel like to kiss her again.
“Look, I’m really sorry for yelling at you,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“It’s all right.” As if mesmerized, her eyes stayed on his.
“No, it isn’t. You’re going through a rough time. I should have been more patient.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips were perfectly sculpted, ripe for kissing.
For his kisses. His gut tightened another notch.
“You don’t have to be superwoman, Mary Beth. It isn’t a crime to let others help you.” Tears crested her eyes, and he realized then just how important it was for her to make the running of the ranch a success.
“I…I can’t…” She stopped speaking and turned her head aside, unable to get the words out without weeping. She wasn’t going to humiliate herself further in front of Deke.
Deke couldn’t stand the defeat he saw in her expression. But it was there, along with the despair in her eyes. He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “Hang in there, Red,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles across her cheek in a soft caress. “Everything will work out.”
Calling her by her nickname provoked his desired effect. Her eyes chilled considerably.
“Don’t—”
“Call you Red,” he finished for her. An understanding smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I know.” He searched her expression, relieved to see that the anxiety in her eyes had eased.
She gave him a fragile smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He didn’t smile back. His senses reeled, and her warmth lured him closer. “Mary Beth,” he murmured, when her tongue slipped out and moistened her lips. He cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up to his.
Her lips parted, and their breaths mingled. Deke’s mouth slowly closed over hers, gently, briefly, then again with more pressure. Fire exploded throughout his body. Her palm came up against his chest, and it was all he could do not to crawl into the bed with her and strip her naked.
He sure wanted to.
He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, touching the tip of hers. She moaned, a deep, longing sound that was enough to break the spell between them. He pulled away from her and got abruptly to his feet. Tasting her on his lips, he swore softly to himself.
What had he almost done?
This damn habit of comforting Mary Beth was getting totally out of control. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but nothing came out. Then he did the unthinkable for the second time in his life.
He got the hell out of there.
Four
Y ou should have stayed away. You’re only going to hurt her again.
Squinting from the early-morning sun, Deke traveled the road between the Bar M and Paradise, his foot momentarily hesitating over the brake pedal. He ignored the warning of his conscience, shifted his boot and mashed down on the gas. This was the right thing to do, he told himself. He was only going to check on Mary Beth.
Because you can’t stay away.
No, that wasn’t true, he argued with himself. She didn’t have anyone helping her. It was the least he could do. And he needed to apologize to her. He owed her that much.
Yet even now, thoughts of holding her in his arms again made him want a whole lot more.
Okay, you’re not even going to think about the kiss.
Just apologize. Straight-out. Sincere, but to the point.
The memory of that kiss continued to haunt him. It had been a mistake in more ways than one. First off, he’d enjoyed it too much. Secondly, he hadn’t wanted to stop at a kiss. It had taken every single ounce of his strength to pull away from her. Mary Beth was a pleasure that wasn’t his to have.
Kissing her had been a conscious choice. In the back of his mind, he’d thought to prove to himself that she was a temptation he could resist.
He’d been wrong.
Maybe he’d resisted her last night, but that one kiss had taught him that he still wanted her. What was he going to do about it? If he had any sense of self-preservation, he’d turn his truck around and head out of town.
Instead he braked, slowing down his truck to a speed just this side of dangerous for the curve ahead, then took the turn leading to Paradise. His truck bounced in and out of every hole in the dusty road before he pulled to a stop in front of her small ranch house.
Letting the engine idle, he absently stared out the front window of his truck and tried to dig up the nerve to go in and apologize for his disappearing act the night before. Without thinking twice about it, he could climb on the back of a thousand-pound bull full of power and rage. Why did facing Mary Beth seem like a fate worse than death?
Because you hurt her.
Again.
A tightness in his gut confirmed his thoughts. The wounded look in her eyes had haunted him all night. Running on just a couple of hours of sleep, he felt anxious and irritable. All because of what he’d done to her.
Well, hell, at least he was doing the right thing now.
Determined to get his apology over with before he chickened out, Deke grabbed his hat from the seat and slapped it on his head as he exited the truck. A movement at the side of the house caught his eye. Spotting Mary Beth, he came to an abrupt halt. Limping, she struggled to keep her balance as she walked.
“Mary Beth!” Her head swung in his direction, then just as quickly away. Deke crossed the yard, his heels kicking up dust. He glanced at the sunny, blue sky. The storm that had threatened last night had never arrived. But from Mary Beth’s cold expression, he had a feeling he was about to face a storm of a different kind—a fury he well deserved.
Mary Beth’s steps faltered, then she recovered and disappeared around the corner of the house.
Deke! Oh, God! What was he doing here? And dammit, why did her heart do a special little beat at the sight of him?
She clenched her fists. How dare he show up this morning? After the way he’d treated her last night, he could go to hell. She’d thought he’d changed. He’d made this big pretense of wanting to help her, wanting to make sure she was all right. Foolishly she’d let down her guard.
Then he’d kissed her.
She’d safeguarded her heart for two years, and with a single kiss Deke had chiseled away at that solid wall she’d built around it. Little cracks had appeared, revealing her vulnerability to him. But she wasn’t going to let him hurt her again. While she had no plans to become involved with him, she was smart enough to know that her heart was still in danger. She’d had feelings for him most of her life. Now she just had to keep from letting herself get further involved with him.
<
br /> Carefully, she managed the back steps as quickly as she could and went inside, knowing that Deke would be right behind her. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet, then opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of cold water.
Then she heard the back door open.
“What the hell are you doing walking on your ankle?” Deke demanded, stepping into the room. He whipped off his hat and tossed it on the kitchen table. At the sound of his voice, Mary Beth’s shoulders visibly tightened. Busy pouring water into a glass, she didn’t even acknowledge that she’d heard him come into the room. But her stiffened spine gave her awareness of him away.
“Mary Beth—”
Mary Beth slammed the pitcher down on the counter with a thud. She whirled around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you dare yell at me!”
“I wouldn’t, if you didn’t give me reason to,” Deke retorted.
“You’re accusing me—”
“No,” he said, lowering his voice. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” His lips thinned as he glanced at her foot. “You need to get off your ankle.” He nodded his head toward a kitchen chair.
Mary Beth didn’t move. “What are you doing here, Deke?”
He winced from the ice in her tone. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Her hand went to her hip. “So, go ahead and talk. I’m not stopping you.” But she didn’t continue looking at him. Instead, she turned her back on him and grasped the glass with both hands.
Deke sucked in a hard breath. He wanted to see her face, wanted to gauge the reaction in her eyes. “Could you just look at me?”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Mary Beth said coolly.
“Yes, I do.” Still, she ignored him. He wasn’t going to apologize to her back. “Look at me,” he demanded, his tone rougher than he intended.
Remaining silent, she lifted the glass and drank. Deke swore under his breath. He wanted to get his apology over with, to clear his conscience so he could think about something other than her.
You need to get your mind on the next competition.
The tight standings between Deke and two other cowboys was enough pressure without throwing his awareness of Mary Beth into the fray. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. This year he had a real chance of taking the title in Las Vegas, but only if he could keep his mind on bull riding and off his sexy neighbor.
“Mary Beth,” he implored, softening his voice. She set the glass on the counter but still didn’t move. Deke cursed again. The woman had a way of testing his patience. “Please.”
As he reached out to touch her shoulder, she swung around to face him, anger and humiliation taut in her expression. Amidst those emotions, there was also pain. He let his hand drop. He’d done that, he thought, guilt eating at his heart. He’d caused that fragile hurt in her eyes. Now and two years ago. Back then he hadn’t waited around to explain. Her haunted expression caused his chest to tighten.
“I just…I want to talk to you.”
“All right,” she told him, her stance wary. “You have my undivided attention.”
She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Well, that was okay. She had a right to be angry. There was nothing she could say or do that would make him feel worse than he already did. Nothing. Because he felt as low as any man could. Why did he seem to hurt the people he cared about the most?
“I’m sorry, Mary Beth,” he said. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”
Mary Beth didn’t even blink. “Which time, Deke? Last night or two years ago?” Her chin came up a notch. Her retort had wounded him. She’d seen the flash of regret in his eyes. So why didn’t she feel as if she’d scored a point, or at least regained a fraction of her pride?
“Last night,” he clarified solemnly. He didn’t want to talk about two years ago. That was over. History. To apologize for what happened between them two years ago would require him to lie to her, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that. “It isn’t you, I swear. It’s me.”
“Well, thank you, Deke. That makes me feel so much better.” She feigned a bright smile. “Now that you’ve gotten that off your chest, you can leave.”
Annoyed that she’d so easily dismissed him, Deke shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. “I thought maybe I could lend you a hand. You shouldn’t be walking on that ankle yet.”
“No, thanks.” She gave him a disinterested look, then started to turn away.
He caught her shoulder with his hand and drew her to a halt. Despite an inner warning that told him he was treading on dangerous territory, Deke forged ahead with his plan to help her. “I could keep an eye on things around here, help take care of you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Just for today,” he clarified.
Mary Beth’s curiosity got the best of her. “Aren’t you returning to the rodeo?” She prayed that he was. The last thing she needed was Deke hanging around, having him so near would be disastrous to her heart. She could resist him—at least she really believed she could—if he wasn’t underfoot all the time.
“I’ll be returning to competition tomorrow, yeah. Until then, I can help out around here.”
“I don’t want your help.”
The lie rolled off her tongue easily. The idea of someone watching over her was more appealing than she wanted to admit—even to herself. She’d never had the luxury of having someone care about her, think about or anticipate her needs. She’d always been the caregiver. The thought of Deke watching out for her was frighteningly alluring.
Deke frowned. He should’ve known that she’d be stubborn about it. Heck, last night she’d almost broken her leg hopping back to bed instead of waiting for him to help her. “Whether you like it or not, you need help.”
She shrugged his hand from her arm while she still had the ability to carry off an iota of bravado. “I don’t want to depend on anyone, and that especially includes you.” The ranch was probably going under, anyway. She might be able to delay it for a while, but the end result seemed inevitable.
Deke’s jaw hardened. “Accepting help never seemed to bother your father.”
Mary Beth drew in a sharp breath. How dare he compare her to her father! It was true that Hank Adams had always been quick to call on neighboring ranchers for help, but she was nothing like him.
Nothing. And she resented the implication.
“Leave my father out of this,” she warned him. More disturbing was the fact that Deke had the power to hurt her. She had to say something, anything, to get rid of him, to get him out of her life. He was a complication she didn’t need. “Having your help for a day won’t make a bit of difference around here,” she insisted. “I’ll be on my own after you’re gone.”
“It will make a difference,” he pressed, already regretting the crack he’d made about her father. He was trying to gain ground with her and instead he was losing it. “It’ll give your ankle a chance to heal. Maybe I can help you find someone to take over for Clyde.”
Mary Beth could hardly admit that she didn’t have the money to hire someone to replace her ranch hand. “My ankle’s not that bad. I can do my own chores.”
“Let me see it,” Deke stated.
“What?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“Let me see your ankle.” He didn’t wait for her to agree. Giving her a choice would only cause more aggravation between them, and Lord knew they’d had enough of that already. Bending down, he lifted her foot and pulled her boot off before she had a chance to protest. Then he shoved her sock down, revealing the bandage she’d wrapped around her ankle. In seconds he’d unwrapped it. “Dammit, Mary Beth, it’s still swollen!”
“It’s better than it was yesterday.”
“Maybe so, but it’ll heal quicker if you take it easy another day. Go into the living room and get off it.” He gave her a stern look when she didn’t move. “Right now. I’ll get you some ice.”
She opened her mouth to challenge him, but his next words stopped her.
“
Do it, or I’ll cart you in there myself.”
Her expression indignant, Mary Beth clamped her lips together. Without another word, she snatched her boot from him and limped from the room with as much dignity as she could muster.
Deke watched her disappear though the doorway. She had an obstinate side to her, that was for sure, he thought, as he prepared an ice pack. Why did he find that side of her just as appealing? Shaking his head, he went into the living room. She was sitting on the couch, her foot elevated. She didn’t speak as he approached her, but he felt the cold chill of her gaze.
“Keep off it,” he ordered, undaunted. He settled an ice pack on her ankle. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back to check on you.”
Deke didn’t wait for her to answer. Rather than tempting fate by staying with her, he went outside to pick up where she’d left off. As he entered the barn, he saw that she hadn’t even started feeding the horses, so he figured she couldn’t have been on her ankle all that long.
He located the hay—at least, what there was of it. There was only half a bale. Wondering if she had the rest of it stored in one of the other buildings, he made a mental note to ask her about it.
Hours later Deke stepped into Mary Beth’s house, unsure of the reception he’d receive from his unwilling patient. He hadn’t meant to intimidate her or to make her angry, but the woman didn’t seem to know what was good for her.
He’d spent the better part of the morning tending to the horses, then riding out and checking her cattle. It was a good thing that he had. He’d found another break in her fencing. By the time he’d gotten the tools and had it repaired, he’d realized that he was getting hungry. While he should have gotten in his truck and headed back to the Bar M, Deke wanted to check on Mary Beth.
When he walked inside, she was sitting on the sofa in the living room, her foot propped up on a beat-up ottoman. His heart rate accelerated. At least she’d listened to him.
“How’s it feel?” he asked. He sat on the sofa, careful to keep his distance from her. Removing his hat, he set it aside, then combed his hair with his fingers.
Best of Cowboys Bundle Page 71