The long, winding drive to the Laweson Ranch was well maintained. The other man had all the newest equipment in his parking area, a hired hand hosing down a forklift. Jackson stepped out of his truck, looking around with awe. The property was huge, the house a mix of modern and old-world charm. His chest tightened further. How could he compete with this?
“Can I help you?” asked one of the farm hands. The man plucked off his Stetson and wiped his brow with a forearm.
“I need to speak with the landowner, Wade Laweson.”
“He should still be in the house. I haven’t seen him all afternoon, and his truck is parked in its spot.”
“Great. Thanks.” Why hadn’t he been out of the house all day? No doubt because he couldn’t pry himself from Mrs. McCay. He didn’t waste any extra time standing around. Jackson strode over to the wraparound porch and knocked firmly on the door. He waited, tapping his boot impatiently. The heat was unbearable, but it didn’t help he was making a ton of his own. He unbuttoned the two top buttons of his shirt, tugging the collar wider so he could breathe.
The door opened, and rather than the potbellied, gray-haired rancher he hoped to find, Wade was exactly what he’d secretly expected and dreaded. He was the same height as Jackson, a big man at around six foot four. He had a hard-muscled frame, and dark-brown hair with only a sprinkling of gray.
“Yes, can I help you, son?”
Son? This wasn’t looking good for him at all. He should leave with his tail between his legs. Why did he think a real woman would want anything to do with a twenty-nine-year-old drifter like him? She’d been through the death of a husband, raised four children on her own, and ran her farm without the help of hired hands. He was just a greenhorn in her eyes.
“Mrs. McCay here?” he asked, his fire dashed.
Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “Who’s looking?”
“Jackson Taylor. I live with her. Heard she’s unwell and came to pick her up and bring her home.” He wanted Wade to believe there was more between them than there was. Since he’d only known her a week so far, he felt the need to offer more validity for his attachment to her.
He unfolded his arms, his brow furrowed. “You’re her son?”
So Wade didn’t know the family intimately. That was a good sign for Jackson. He was worried Mrs. McCay may have a thing for the cattle rancher, but if they had a relationship surely Wade would know more than he did. “No, I’m not her son. Is she here? Christine said she was here.” He tried to look past him into the house.
“She’s resting. Come in.” The man didn’t sound welcoming, but unimpressed, the same as Jackson. They sized each other up without saying a word.
He followed Wade into the house. The first thing he noted was the air-conditioning. He could feel the heat escaping from his collar practically sizzle as it met the cool air.
When they turned the corner, he saw Mrs. McCay reclining on a sofa, water bottle in hand. She was only wearing a white robe which stopped him dead in his tracks. Were they lovers? It really was none of his business considering he was just a boarder—here today, gone tomorrow. He hadn’t even made his move, though he’d been tempted the last couple days when they were out mucking the barn together. Jackson had caught her staring as he worked shirtless. When he’d turn and meet her gaze, he would find a carnal lust which made his cock hard. She’d be a vixen in bed. But as soon as he’d take a step forward or attempt to say a word, she’d blink and the desire was gone.
“Jackson? What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting upright.
“We were worried about you. I came home to an empty house, and Christine was in a frenzy wondering where you’d be without your truck.”
“I’m fine. I may have pushed myself a bit too hard considering the heat. How’s the crop looking? Did you stop by the orchard?”
Wade sat beside her on the sofa, resting a hand on her knee. “None of that,” he said with warning in his voice. “You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself, not worrying about your crops. Ain’t that how you got in this predicament in the first place?”
Jackson could hear the genuine concern in his voice because it mirrored his own. It tore him up on the inside knowing that strong but petite woman had been battling the drought all on her own. She should have a man to love her…but he supposed she did once upon a time. Why hadn’t she remarried? Mrs. McCay was a blonde beauty with a petite, youthful figure.
He sat on the opposite side of her. “I can’t say I don’t agree. The last thing you need to worry about are your crops. If Mother Nature wants them destroyed, there ain’t nothing you or I can do about it. We can only wait and see.”
“I don’t like those odds,” she said. “A cowboy wouldn’t talk like that. He’d do anything to make things right and save his crop. Without a harvest I have nothing. I can’t pay my mortgage, bills, anything.”
“A mortgage? I’ve been next door for fifteen years and you were already well established when I arrived. Surely your house is nearly paid off?”
“I’ve refinanced the mortgage every few years to get cash money. Farming natural isn’t easy. I don’t have fancy equipment, hired hands, or irrigation systems in place.”
“Like me?” Wade said with a sarcastic edge. “How can I be to blame for what’s happening to you? God knows I’ve tried to lend a hand.”
Her face visibly fell. Jackson didn’t even think before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Now that’s a cruel way to talk to a lady. Mrs. McCay just has a lot on her plate right now.” She didn’t pull away, which surprised him. Normally she’d never let him this close. He continued, stoking her pretty blonde hair, still slightly damp from a shower.
“I’m not trying to be cruel, just get her to understand things are the way they are because she allowed it. Her stubborn streak hasn’t aided her.”
“Let’s get you home,” he whispered against her hair. “You need to rest, not become more stressed.”
Wade stood up, his legs braced as if guarding them from getting up to leave. “You never did tell me who you were. Wendy?” He finally knew her name. Wendy. He repeated it in his head, even trying it out silently with his mouth.
“He’s my boarder. Unlike what you think of me, I am proactive. I’m preparing for the potential loss of income. Since there’s no rain in the forecast I’d say the potential is more a guarantee.”
Wade chuckled. “I knew it had to be something like that. You had me scared for a minute there, darlin’. I thought you’d actually robbed the cradle.”
A deafening silence crashed down on the room. Jackson didn’t know if Wendy was more insulted than he was by the remark.
“You saying I’m old, Wade? You think I run after hot, young cowboys and beg them to roll in the hay with me? I don’t think you know me at all.”
“Of course not! Good Lord, you’re younger than I am. I’m just saying a boy like this isn’t capable of taking care of a woman. He wouldn’t know where to start.”
Jackson bolted upright, puffing out his chest. He’d been in more scraps than he could count and had the scars to prove it. This old-timer didn’t threaten him in the least. “You best think twice before running your mouth. It could get you into trouble.” He mock smiled. “Maybe Wendy can recognize a man who can give her exactly what she needs. I guarantee you I don’t need male enhancement to keep my cock hard all night long.”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Wendy stood up and shoved past them. “You’re both disgusting and insulting. Someone please drive me home right now or I’ll walk.”
He knew she was capable of keeping her threat. This time Wade didn’t fight when Jackson followed her out to the parking lot. As he looked back, he saw the defeated look in the other man’s eyes. He honestly felt sorry for him, but if one man had to have Wendy, Jackson wanted it to be him.
Chapter Five
“What was that all about?” Wendy asked as they drove off the property.
“What?”
She exhaled, exasperated, and twisted to face him. “I should wash your mouth with soap for how you talked in there.”
“You can do anything you want to me.” He smiled naughtily as he faced the road “By the way, beautiful name, Wendy.”
Had she not even told him her first name in all the time he’d been at her house? Even with the distance she put between them, it had all been in vain. She’d heard the stories about young cowboys falling hard in love. Her own son had become victim. Bradley had come home from a paid cattle roundup and announced he was moving in with a woman, one he’d only known for two weeks. He was one hundred percent, head over heels in love, and she didn’t question his choice to move out. Life had been much more difficult without his helping hand, but he did send money each month which helped pay expenses.
Now, in the span of a week, her boarder was acting possessive about her, as if she was his woman. It was too much to process, especially after listening to Wade’s speech about giving him a chance to court her properly. What was she doing? She should be minding her own business, not hooking up with any man after all these years.
But part of her wanted to let go of the past, however painful. It was tempting to give in to the affections of a good man, but also the hardest thing in the world to do.
“I’m a forty-four-year-old widow. You can do much better than me, Jackson.” A crush was temporary, something that burned hot for a moment in time, then quickly turned to ash. At her age, she needed peace and security if she decided to settle down with a man. Jackson may be a walking sex-on-a-stick with all those hard muscles, but he’d be fickle, just like every drifter she’d known in her life. The cowboys who settled down to work the land were much more reliable, men like Wade.
“I’m not a twenty-year-old punk. I’ll be thirty come November.”
“That’s still a baby. You have your whole life ahead of you.” She tried to brush off his attraction because she couldn’t deal with it now. All she wanted to do was go home and forget the entire day, from the dying crops to her near-death experience, to two men vying for her approval. Wendy was mentally and physically exhausted.
“Do you think Wade Laweson would be a better choice just because he’s older? Or because he has more money than he knows what to do with?”
“I know very well money can’t buy love or I’d have settled down with him over a decade ago. I’m not looking for any man, young or old, rich or poor. That’s not going to change.”
Jackson remained silent for the rest of the short drive. He walked around and opened her door once they pulled up to the house. She held the robe shut tight when she swung her legs around.
“You have no boots on,” he said, just noticing. She’d gotten in the truck with no problem, but now that he saw her bare feet he wouldn’t let her out the door.
“It’s not exactly cold out, Jackson.” Wendy tried to brush him aside but the man was built like a brick house, all solid muscle. The simple touch to push him out of her way seemed to light up her body from the inside. She was even tempted to run her hands over those broad shoulders or her palm along the rough stubble on his jaw.
“I love the way you say my name, darlin’.” He whispered the words, so close. She swallowed the frog in her throat. If only things were different. If only she were a young girl starting out in life without all the baggage. She’d love to throw herself in his arms and let him fend off the world. But fairy tales were for children’s books, not women living the harsh reality where no knight in shining armor existed.
“Don’t…”
He leaned in and scooped her up into his capable arms. She had no choice but to wrap her arm around his neck for fear of falling to the ground. “I’m not letting you walk on the gravel drive. I took you home to care for you, and I plan to do just that.”
“I promise I’m fine.” She squirmed to show her disapproval, but not enough that he’d put her down. Being held by a man was a first for her. Her marriage had been too brief, and she was either pregnant or busy with children while her husband devoted his time to their new farm. He was a good man, but it scared her to admit she may not have really loved him. She was young and idealistic back then, not even an adult, and so little time was devoted to nurturing their relationship. Once he died, it was easy to convince herself she’d lost the love of her life, the father of her children. Her focus, besides her perpetual mourning, was raising her children with enough affection to make up for two parents.
All the feelings she got when she thought of Jackson or Wade were new. She’d never felt that flutter in her stomach or hitch in her breath before. Wendy felt sick and guilty for not having been a better wife or more sorrowful widow. She wanted to give in to these two men, to allow herself a new beginning, but felt too guilty.
Jackson leaned over and opened the front door, not letting her to her feet. He kicked it shut after they entered the house.
Christine rushed over, dressed to head out, but stopped and looked between her and Jackson. “Mom, are you okay?” This was what she feared most, seeing betrayal in her children’s eyes if they saw her with another man.
“I’m fine, just a little tired.” She felt foolish being held like a child, but also special and wanted. It was nice being the one cared for rather than doing all of it herself.
“Soup’ll be ready shortly, but I’m going out with Casey tonight. Do you want me to cancel? Yeah, I should cancel.”
Jackson spoke before she could open her mouth. “Oh no. You go on out with your friend. I’ll be taking care of your momma, and I’ll be sure to give her some of your fine soup. It smells delicious.”
Christine smiled. “Okay, then.” She kissed Wendy on the cheek then raced off. Wendy had to constantly remind herself that the younger generation liked to go out and have fun, get a little wild with their friends, not work themselves on a ranch day after day. She liked that Christine was starting to spread her wings, but hoped she made better choices than Kylie had.
Once her daughter was out of sight, Jackson adjusted her in his arms, reminding her his rough hands were still on her body, just the thin robe hiding her nudity. “As for you, you’re going to bed.” He carried her to her room and gently placed her on her mattress. After shutting the blinds and turning on the fan, he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, the mattress dipping from his weight.
“What about the orchard?”
She could understand other people being angry with her. Worrying about crops before health was foolhardy. But she felt good now, and her wheat and apples were her livelihood. How could she just go to sleep and pretend all her worries had vanished? It would be worse when she was fully recovered only to discover her season ruined, much more at stake for her if those young trees died. She’d invested all her savings on establishing the orchard, hoping to create a new and more stable source of income. Now it was just a liability.
“Don’t worry about the orchard,” he said, running his hand across her forehead to remove the stray hairs. She jerked her head away, uncomfortable with the intimate touch. Being over a decade older than Jackson, she shouldn’t feel like an inexperienced schoolgirl, but she did. It was as if all the years she’d stopped living a full life never happened, and she was once again young and shy, in the care of a more traveled lover. Jackson may only be twenty-nine but she was certain he knew the anatomy of a woman and the art of lovemaking. Wendy could barely recall what it felt like to kiss a man.
“But—”
He shook his head and leaned over her torso. Only now could she smell his subtle cologne. She closed her eyes, feeling enveloped by so much masculine energy. He whispered right against her ear, the heat and gentle wisp of air igniting her deep-seated desires. “Trust me.”
“I can’t,” she said with all honesty. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to give up that much power. If she only had herself to rely on, she’d never have to worry about getting hurt or caring about a stranger.
He tongued the shell of her ear, his upper b
ody weight suspended over her. His frame was so large, so strong, everything that attracted her to a man. She never realized there were erogenous zones in and around her ears. He seemed to hit every one with his lips and tongue. Why wasn’t she stopping him? Her eyes were closed, her pussy pulsing, her heart rate deafening as it pounded in her ears.
“Do you like that?” he asked.
She kept silent.
He grew bolder now, probably since she hadn’t asked him to stop. Jackson ran a hand down the side of her neck and under the housecoat at her shoulders. His bare hand against her flesh was hot and rough, titillating her senses. She had no clothes on. All it would take was a quick movement to peel the material open, leaving her completely vulnerable.
“What about this?” As he reached deeper inside her housecoat, his hand skimming her side, the terrycloth parted, exposing one breast. She gasped, trying to cover up, but he stilled her. “Why’re you hiding from me? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I’m nothing to look at.” She had small, insignificant breasts, slightly droopy from nursing all her children for over a year each. Jackson had probably sampled plenty of the young buckle bunnies that frequented the rodeo circuit. She couldn’t compete and wouldn’t be looked at with disgust.
He wrapped his hand around her wrist, raising it above her head in a firm lock. Then he lowered his mouth to her breast, taking the entire areola into his mouth. Her nipple instantly pebbled, sparks of electricity racing through her body. She panted, shocked as much as she wanted more. “You’re delicious, Wendy. More than I could ever ask for.” He trailed those wicked kisses down her center, making her stomach quiver.
“Jackson, what’re you doing?”
“Just one taste, darlin’.” She wasn’t sure what he referred to until his tongue flicked out when he reached her clit. Wendy gasped aloud, the sensation triggering a deep convulsing in her womb. “Yes,” he murmured, spreading her legs apart. She was stiff, awkward, unsure…until he began to suckle her. Jackson ate her pussy—licking, sucking, nipping, and fucking her with his tongue. This was another new experience for her. She felt uninhibited, as if exploring her sexuality for the first time.
Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5