Like That Endless Cambria Sky

by Linda Seed

  She knew she should hold back; this wasn’t the place for this, and whatever existed between them was so new. But the longer they kissed, the greater the urgency she felt as she pulled him to her and ran her hands over his back, his arms, before entwining her fingers in his hair.

  “Gen.” His voice was husky and rough.

  She pulled back just a little, her mouth a hair’s breadth from his. “Ryan. I want this. I really want this. But I can’t do this if …”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t do this if Lacy is the one you really want.”

  He looked at her for just a moment, those dark eyes alight with desire. Then, with breathtaking suddenness, he scooped her into his lap and picked her up from the sofa, standing with her in his arms.

  She let out a little yelp. “What are you doing?”

  “Kendrick’s in the other room,” he said simply. Then he carried her out the front door and kicked it closed behind him.

  Outside, the temperature was mild and the tang of sea air filled her senses.

  “Your house?” Gen said.

  “Whole family’s there,” he answered.

  “Car?”

  They both looked at Gen’s car, a tiny little two-door. Ryan was six-foot-three.

  They looked at each other and they both said, at the same time, “Barn.”

  Gen giggled and he gave her a little toss to seat her more comfortably in his arms. Then he set out with long, confident strides toward the old barn, with its new skylight that she imagined would let in silvery strands of moonlight.

  The barn wasn’t far, but it was far enough. Far enough that she’d have thought carrying a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound woman there would be out of the question. But he hardly seemed to notice her weight—he made carrying her seem effortless, and his strength, his pure manly force, turned her on even more. Snuggled up so close to him, she could feel his heartbeat against her chest.

  By the time they got inside the barn with its pale, shimmering light and its smells of hay and earth, the blood was pounding in places she’d neglected for far too long.

  He set her down inside the barn and she looked up at him, breathless. Then he tangled his fingers in her waves and waves of glorious hair and kissed her.

  She’d imagined this for so long. Had a raging crush on Ryan Delaney for so long. How many times had she wondered how his mouth would taste? How many times had she wondered how his body would feel pressed against hers? There was, of course, the potential that the reality—when it finally came—could pale in comparison with the fantasy. That the fact of him could let down, disappoint. But the way he kissed her, the way he handled her—all firm, manly confidence, forceful in a way that made her feel as feminine and delicate as a flower—was so much better than what she’d expected. So much more.

  She gave back everything, and more. Her hands roamed his chest, his arms, his face, taking in the feel of him, of everything. The kiss, the long, passionate kiss, the claiming of her mouth by his, sent shivers of need through her body. She unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off of him. She grabbed the T-shirt she found underneath and yanked it over his head.

  And oh, God, the glory of his naked torso was so much better than what she’d pictured in her mind. Sculpted muscles, hard planes. Skin golden from time spent in the sun.

  “Ah, Gen,” he murmured into her ear, and it was her name he said, all breathy and rough, not Lacy’s. No one else’s but hers.

  They kissed again and she nipped at his lips with her teeth. She wanted to devour him.

  She was wearing the dress she’d planned for their date—the date that hadn’t happened—and he reached around her and drew down the zipper, slowly, all the way to the small of her back. He put his hands on her shoulders and eased the dress off of them, down her arms, until the fabric pooled on the floor at her feet.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in a voice made rough by desire.

  Suddenly, he picked her up again and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her further into the barn.

  Ideally, he should have thrown her down onto a soft pile of hay, but this was the old barn, and it hadn’t been in use for a few years except for storage, and—most recently—Gordon Kendrick. So there was no pile of hay, and instead he had to grab a thick, wool blanket from the boxes of stuff piled up in one corner of the cavernous space. Still carrying her in one arm, he shook out the blanket with his free hand and tossed it on the floor, spreading it out with his foot while she giggled.

  “That would probably be easier if you put me down,” she said, laughing at his efforts to arrange the blanket while holding her.

  “Like hell,” he said. “I’m not letting go of you.”

  She looked into his big, dark eyes. “Oh.”

  He went down onto his knees with her still wrapped around him, then lowered her onto the blanket. He looked at her lying there, with her smooth, white skin and her flaming red hair spread out around her.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said. “God. Just look at you.” He ran his hands down over her, her throat, her belly, her legs, and she shivered in the wake of his touch.

  “I want you so much, Ryan,” she whimpered. “I’ve wanted you so much …”

  “Shh.”

  He lifted her up just a little, so he could unclasp her lacy bra and slip it off of her shoulders. Then he lowered his mouth to her breasts, tasting one of the pink peaks and then the other. She groaned and squirmed beneath him, impatient with the force of her arousal.

  “I love your breasts,” he murmured, his mouth so close to her skin that she could feel the tickle of his warm breath.

  Then he slid her panties off of her hips and down her thighs.

  Lying naked beneath him, with him still partially dressed, was so erotic she almost had an orgasm right then. She tugged at his belt. “Now you.”

  She unbuckled him, undid the snap, and slid his zipper down with the same teasing slowness he’d used with hers.

  He groaned at her touch, then pulled away from her long enough to free himself from his jeans.

  When they were both naked, both clothed in nothing but the moonlight filtering through the skylight, he used his mouth on her again, kissing the hollow between her breasts before moving downward, making a hot trail down her body with his tongue.

  “Ryan. Please. I need you, right now. Please.”

  “In a little bit,” he said, a hint of a tease in his voice. He kept working his way downward with his mouth until he was between her silky legs. He kissed the insides of her thighs, increasing her torment, until finally using his tongue on her warm folds.

  “Oh. Oh.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, her entire body on fire with urgency. “Ryan. Oh.”

  When he’d brought her right to edge of the abyss, he stopped, rose up her body, and knelt before her.

  “I … shit,” she murmured. “I didn’t bring a condom. I’m on the pill, but …”

  “Shhh.” He hushed her, and reached over to where his jeans had been discarded. He pulled a little foil packet out of one of the back pockets.

  “Oh, thank God,” she said.

  When he was ready, he lowered himself onto her and she felt the delicious sensation of his body pressing into hers. It felt so right, so perfect, that her body sang with the joy of it. As he moved inside her, he ran his hands over her round, heavy breasts, the delicious curves of her ass. She thrummed with pleasure, and she wondered briefly if it were possible to be driven insane by sexual bliss. The pressure, the tension of her passion rose and rose until she cried out with her release.

  “Oh, Gen.” The words were soft and warm in her ear. He buried his hands in her hair and groaned as his own pleasure peaked.

  Afterward, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, damp with sweat, breathing hard.

  “God,” she said and laughed, a low, throaty sound. “I knew it would be good if we ever did this. I knew. But this … So much better than the fantasy.”

  He ran a finger
gently across her face, moving a curl of hair away from her eyes. “You fantasized about me?”

  “I might have.” She grinned. “Once or twice.”

  “Hmm.” He planted light kisses on her neck, her shoulder.

  “We were supposed to have a date first,” she said, teasing.

  “We did.”

  “We did not.”

  “Of course we did.” He said the words as he moved his head down toward her belly, teasing the skin with his tongue. “I don’t know about you, but I always take my dates to talk crazy artists off a ledge. So much more stimulating than dinner and a movie.”

  She felt his breath as a tickle against her damp skin as he spoke.

  She laughed.

  “Well, I feel stimulated.”

  “Me too.”

  She watched his face in the moonlight as he held her, and she thought that no matter what happened between them, she never wanted to forget this moment, right here, right now. The way he looked at her, the way his voice sounded as he murmured her name.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You did it in the barn ? You had barn sex?” Rose looked at Gen with interest, her pierced eyebrow arching skyward. “Barn sex with an actual cowboy. God. I am so jealous right now.”

  Gen, Rose, Kate, and Lacy were gathered at Kate’s house the next morning. They sat around the dining room table with mugs of coffee in front of them while Jackson worked in the kitchen, making omelets.

  “Ah, jeez, I should not be hearing this,” Jackson muttered as he flipped a mushroom and onion omelet.

  The kitchen timer dinged, and Jackson pulled a tray of blueberry muffins from the oven.

  “Man, it must be nice living with a chef,” Lacy commented as they all got a whiff of warm muffins.

  “It is,” Kate commented, “but then you have to deal with a guy hovering around when you’re trying to talk about barn sex.”

  “As soon as the food is done, I’m out of here,” he said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

  “I could have cooked,” Kate said to him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “You burn your omelets,” Jackson said. “And you make muffins from a boxed mix.”

  “True,” Kate acknowledged.

  “You’ve got to admire a man with standards,” Rose said.

  “Thank you,” Jackson replied.

  “So. The barn sex,” Lacy said to Gen. “How was our rancher friend? Did he meet expectations?”

  “Ah, jeez,” Jackson groaned.

  “Whatever I say, Jackson is going to repeat to Ryan,” Gen said, cutting a piece of omelet with her fork.

  “Goddamn right I am,” Jackson said.

  “Ah. Good point. We’ll wait,” Lacy said, batting her eyelashes at Jackson over the rim of her coffee mug.

  “There.” Jackson put the last of the food on the table, looking relieved that he could now flee the scene.

  “Thank you for doing this,” Kate said warmly, pulling him down toward her for a kiss.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll clean up. You can escape now.”

  “Thank God.”

  He ducked into the bedroom, and within a few minutes he was in his running clothes and had gone out the front door for a jog.

  “This omelet is fabulous,” Gen said. “Jackson’s a really good guy.”

  “He is,” Kate agreed.

  “The good guy is gone now, so spill about the barn sex,” Rose demanded.

  “Yes, spill,” Lacy agreed.

  So she told them about the ruined date, and persuading Kendrick not to leave Cambria, and talking about their lives over the last of Kendrick’s bourbon. And when she got to the part about Ryan scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the barn, her three friends swooned.

  “Oh, God. He carried you?” Rose said.

  “He did.” Gen couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face.

  “Maybe you should have gone out with him when you had the chance,” Kate said to Lacy.

  “This is what I’m thinking,” Lacy agreed.

  Gen pointed one finger at Lacy. “Don’t you dare. Hands off.”

  Lacy raised her hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, I had my chance. I’d never break the Girlfriend Code of Honor. And anyway, I doubt he’s thinking much about me anymore.” She batted her eyelashes at Gen.

  “God, I hope not,” Gen said.

  They ate their omelets and muffins and drank their coffee next to a wall of windows that looked out on a spectacular view of the ocean. The morning was crisp and clear. Seagulls soared in the distance over the breaking waves.

  “I’ve never had barn sex,” Kate said wistfully. “I want barn sex.”

  “Well, most of us have never had bookstore sex, so you’re one up on us there,” Rose observed.

  “True,” Kate said.

  “So, you never said,” Lacy prompted Gen. “How was it? Was it fun?”

  “No.” Gen looked at her plate, avoiding their eyes.

  “No? Oh, honey.” Kate reached out and put a hand over Gen’s on the table.

  “No. It wasn’t fun. It was …” Gen shook her head. “Fun is too small a word for what it was.”

  “Oh,” Rose sighed.

  “I think I might be in trouble now,” Gen said. “I mean … I’ve had a crush on him for a long time. But now …”

  “Oh, no. You’re in love,” Lacy said.

  “I think I might be, yeah.” Gen had barely touched her food, and now she’d lost her appetite entirely.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Kate asked gently.

  “It is if he doesn’t feel the same way,” Gen insisted. “It is if, for him, it was just …” She waved her hands vaguely, looking for the right word. “Fun.”

  Lacy put down her fork and looked at Gen. “I’ve known Ryan Delaney for a long time. We went to high school together. And I have never known him to use women just for the hell of it.”

  “Unlike Jackson,” Kate put in wryly.

  “Jackson’s changed. You changed him,” Rose said.

  “My point is,” Lacy said, getting back to the topic, “Ryan was never like that. Back in school, he didn’t date very often, but when he did, he’d be with the same girl for a really long time. He was never looking for fun. He was looking for a relationship.”

  “Huh,” Gen said.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve heard about him dating anybody,” Rose put in. “And you know how word gets around in this town. We’d have heard. I think Lacy’s right. He’s not going to play with your emotions just to get laid.”

  Gen poked at her food with her fork. “Well, then I’ve got another problem, I guess.”

  “The am-I-really-ready-for-a-big-relationship problem,” Kate supplied.

  “Exactly,” Gen said.

  “Well, are you?” Lacy asked.

  “And what happens if you really are going back to New York?” Rose said.

  Gen sighed. “That sums up the problem, all right.”

  Ryan was grappling with a similar issue as he rode out to the southwest pasture to check on the cattle. Only he didn’t have a group of friends handy to talk it out—if men did that sort of thing. He only had the cows, and he didn’t think he’d get any sound relationship advice there.

  No, he hadn’t been toying with Gen. He hadn’t been using her just for pleasure. He had feelings for her. Real feelings. Why else would he have put a damned skylight in the barn? He sure as hell hadn’t done it for Kendrick.

  But Gen had been straight with him that she didn’t plan to stay in Cambria. She’d made no secret of that. The whole reason she’d brought Kendrick out here was to drum up the money and the clout she needed to relocate to New York.

  He’d be a fool to think she’d change her mind about staying just because of him. And he couldn’t kid himself that going to New York with her would be a simple thing. His family had been on the ranch for generations. His brothers had left to pursue other things. His parents were counting on him to run t
he operation here. What would happen if he left? Who would his parents turn to? Breanna would be the only one of his siblings still here, and she had never had much of an interest in ranching. If she suddenly decided to take on a big role working the ranch—which seemed unlikely—she’d have a lot to learn before she could take Ryan’s place.

  That was the practical side. The emotional side—which, to him, was just as compelling—was that the Delaney Ranch was so much a part of who he was as a person, so much a key element in his soul, that he doubted he could successfully make the adjustment to a life elsewhere. And that was assuming she would even want him to come.

  What about a long-distance relationship? He pondered that as he dismounted Annie and went to check on a calf and its mother near the northwest corner of the pasture. The grass swished between his legs as he walked.

  Ryan approached the cow and her calf slowly, speaking soothing words to them. When the calf had been born, the mother had initially rejected him. It happened sometimes. After a few days of forced nursing—Ryan had enclosed the mother in a pen and immobilized her to allow the newborn to feed—she’d warmed up to the calf some, but Ryan was still keeping an eye on them to make sure everything was going smoothly.

  He examined the calf, looking for signs of weight loss and checking its abdomen for indications that it hadn’t been eating and drinking properly. He observed its breathing, and checked its face for discharge from the nose or eyes. That done, he simply stood back and observed the calf for a while to see how it was eating and moving. When the calf raised its tail and released a steaming pile of manure, Ryan ambled over and took a look at the pile. That was one of his least favorite parts of the job, but you could tell a lot about an animal’s health from the look of its manure. He drew the line at sifting through it, though. A man had to have some boundaries.

  “He looks pretty good,” Ryan said to no one.

  Ryan wondered if Gen liked animals.

  There she was, in his head again: Gen. He sighed.

  Ryan didn’t do casual hookups, he didn’t look at sex as simple recreation, and he didn’t hold his heart in check when he cared about someone.