Rock Hard Cowboy

by Christina Hovland

  Her green eyes got huge. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Hence the whole band blowing up and retirement thing.”

  “Tucker, I’m so sorry.” Her palm rested against his biceps.

  Her touch felt nice. Good. Right.

  He reached for her, the skin of her jaw soft under the pads of his fingertips. He traced the soft spot to her neck. Her mouth parted.

  Seat belt unhooked, he scooted across the bench seat into her space.

  Lifting a handful of red hair, he breathed in the scent of vanilla and flowers. Her signature scent. She’d bottled it. Sold it. But it didn’t smell like this on anyone else. Not that he’d gone around sniffing women, but he’d smelled it in a bottle.

  On Kenzie the scent was everything. She was her own brand of intoxication.

  “Are you going to kiss me? Or what?” Her lips grazed the air above his cheek, the little hairs there standing at attention.

  His mouth met hers, subtle then hungry.

  “Oh my lord. Clint, they’re kissing.” His mother’s voice pierced the moment. “Just like in that movie she did with Carter Pearson.”

  Tucker jerked back. Kenzie cleared her throat.

  And the moment was gone.

  Thanks to his mother’s love of movies and Carter Pearson.

  9

  Chapter Nine

  They were holding hands. A silent link that looped them together during the ride to his ranch while his parents chattered away in the front seat. Kenzie gave the right answers on cue, but her mind stayed in the backseat. Focused on Tucker.

  Every time he stroked the fleshy part above her thumb, she got goosebumps like she was a teenager. Yes, Kenzie had butterflies in her stomach. A whole swirling mass of them.

  “Kenzie, do you have any special requests for Christmas breakfast tomorrow?” Lori’s neck was going to have a kink in it from the amount of time she spent turned around. Though, she didn’t seem to mind.

  They turned off the highway onto a two-lane winding road leading them through a canyon onto what Tucker called the Grand Mesa. A massive flat-topped mountain with his town of Collbran somewhere near the top.

  The snow had stopped, leaving a film of white powder on the trees, the road, the outside of the truck.

  “Anything will be great,” Kenzie replied. “I can help, too.”

  She loved to bake but rarely got the chance.

  “Everybody brings something. We do it potluck style,” Lori said.

  Kenzie hadn’t been to an event where they did “potluck style” since she was five. How fun was this?

  “What were you planning to bring?” Kenzie asked Tucker, her enthusiasm lacing her words.

  The little crinkles around his eyes bunched. “Whatever’s in the pantry.”

  Clint harrumphed.

  He had the act of being the gruff patriarch down to an art, but his eyes told a whole different story. They were among the kindest eyes Kenzie had ever seen. Honest eyes. The kind of eyes that told a story. Clint would’ve made an excellent actor. Ninety percent of getting an audience to believe the story was having eyes that sparkled with truth—even when you played a role. “Last year he brought a jar of mayonnaise.”

  “And we used that mayonnaise on sandwiches at lunch.” Lori flashed Tucker an it’s-okay-sweetie smile.

  Kenzie glanced to Tucker’s profile. “Did your brother leave flour, butter, all that?”

  “If not, come by early tomorrow. I have it all,” Lori assured.

  Baking with Tucker’s family sounded…really nice. Fun, even.

  “That would be great.” Kenzie settled back into her seat, content.

  “What are you planning on making?” Tucker squeezed her hand.

  She shrugged. “Whatever I can find a recipe for.”

  The two-lane road led through the canyon, a frozen creek along one side. Tucker leaned over her and pointed out the window. “Keep your eye out for deer.”

  Kenzie squinted in the direction he’d pointed. “Like, wild deer?”

  Tucker’s lips played into a smile. “You’ll see them along the edge of the road sometimes. There was one just there. Watch. There are usually several grouped together.”

  “They’ll bounce right in front of the truck. They’re pretty, but they’re stupid,” Clint went on. “Not like mountain lions. Those are smart. Fast. They’ll pounce on you before you have a moment to process what’s happening.”

  “Wait, there are mountain lions?” Kenzie shot Tucker a look.

  The jerk was laughing. “Yeah. There are some around here.”

  “Like, there are mountain lions at your ranch?” Kenzie asked. Just to confirm.

  She glanced outside again, leaning close against the window. Her breath fogged the glass.

  “Mountain lions eat the deer,” Lori said, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

  “You said nothing about wild animals when we talked about this,” Kenzie hissed to Tucker.

  “There’re bears, too.” Clint went on.

  “Not alongside the road though,” Lori reassured.

  “Oh my God.” What kind of hell had Tucker brought her to? She preferred human monsters over animal monsters.

  “Don’t worry about the bears, dear. Just make lots of racket if you see one. Avoid the cubs. They’re cuter than the dickens, but their mamas get real mean about things.” Lori waved a hand. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Tucker, you didn’t say there were wild animals,” Kenzie whispered again with more force.

  “They don’t come up to the houses much. You’ll be fine,” he repeated his mother’s words, squeezing her now-cold hand.

  Kenzie wouldn’t be leaving the house, apparently.

  Her mind filled with gory details of what mama bears did to actresses who got too close to their babies.

  “Kenzie?” Tucker asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s winter. The bears are all asleep for a few months.”

  “What about the mountain lions?”

  “They’re awake,” Clint interjected.

  “How far is Vail from here?” Maybe the vultures at her mother’s party weren’t so bad, after all?

  “A few hours east, if the weather is good,” Clint replied.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Lori turned, her expression concerned. “Tucker won’t let anything happen to you. You can’t leave now. It’s almost Christmas. We need to bake together.”

  Kenzie’s heart spasmed. Lori really wanted her there, and not because she wanted Kenzie to do anything for her. Kenzie could get used to that.

  “I guess I’ll just stay inside.”

  Tucker ran a hand over her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “That can be fun, too.”

  Their gazes met, he winked, and her hands were miraculously warm again. As was the rest of her body.

  “Yup. Sure can.” Lori started talking with her hands again. “We set up board games by the fireplace, football on the television. The kids on Christmas morning make it all worth it. It’s so much fun.”

  Kenzie glanced to Tucker. His lips flattened into a smile. He bit at his knuckles in an apparent attempt to stop laughing.

  “It sounds nice.” Kenzie whacked the side of his thigh where it lay under her coat.

  Tucker snatched her hand and made a slow move of lacing his fingers with hers. Her pulse thrummed. His thumb traced figure eights on the top of her hand, setting every nerve in her body on alert.

  She had a feeling board games had nothing on inside games with Tucker.

  Well, his parents had thoroughly wigged out Kenzie.

  They turned the corner to his driveway. Darkness had settled over the mountain, the moon making the crystals in the snow shimmer. The truck passed under the Bandit Ranch sign that hung across the entry to his property—a large log on each side of the drive and one across the top with the sign on hinges, marked his official return home.

  He felt…

  He felt no different.

 
; Dammit. He’d hoped maybe when he passed over the threshold to his land something would click. A feeling of things being right.

  Nope. The only thing that felt right was Kenzie’s hand in his. They’d practically been intimate on the drive—with only their fingers stroking each other.

  His parents had no idea what was going on under that coat between them.

  They pulled up to the main house. His house.

  Cord had the lights inside blazing to welcome him. At least the asshole could follow through with something.

  He opened the door at the same time his father climbed out of the truck. Kenzie gave his mother an awkward over-the-seat hug and scooted out after him.

  She blasted past Tucker to the front door. Arms crossed, she fidgeted a little dance from foot to foot.

  Yeah, his parents had freaked her out. He’d never seen anyone move so fast up the four front steps to his wrap-around pine deck.

  He used his key and pushed the front door open. He’d picked it himself. Curved across the top, it had two sides that opened and heavy black metal hinges. “No mountain lions up here on the porch.”

  She rushed inside. “You can’t know that.”

  He bit back a laugh.

  A trip for the bags and he stood at the front of his house with his father.

  “Son.” Dad put out his hand.

  Tucker shook it.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I like her.” Dad had a firm grip.

  “Me too.” Acknowledging that made him warm all over.

  A quick pump of the hand and his dad strode back to his truck. He stopped. Turned. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  Well, there he had it.

  With that, Tucker went inside to Kenzie.

  “This house…” Kenzie turned a full circle in his living room.

  His sister had decorated the place, he couldn’t take the credit there, but he loved every bit of it. From the twenty-foot ceiling and the bank of windows along the south wall, to the stone fireplace and walnut hardwood floors. On one side there was a kitchen and dining room. The other had four bedrooms and a special recording studio he’d added before his muse had left him.

  His sister was also likely responsible for the Christmas tree next to the fireplace. It nearly reached the ceiling.

  Kenzie faced him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  She was too damn far away. Their bags abandoned by the front door, he moved to her.

  Neither of them said a word. But in that nothing, they said everything.

  Her red hair spilled over her shoulders. Lifting a curl, he wound it around his finger, released it and ran a hand over her shoulder. She took a sharp breath at the touch. He trailed his fingers down her arm to her hand, linking it with his.

  She lifted onto her toes, pressing her lips to his.

  The slow burn they’d started in the car lit to a full flame. He tilted his head, the kiss turning to tongue and hands and their bodies molding together.

  “Hey, Tucker,” his sister’s voice murdered the moment.

  Kenzie pulled away, covering her mouth with the edge of her thumb.

  “Oh my gosh.” Sierra stepped backwards down the hallway she’d come from. “I had no idea. I’m sorry. I just brought…dinner.”

  She lifted the casserole dish as if it held the explanation for everything in life.

  10

  Chapter Ten

  “What’re you two doing?” Tucker asked.

  Kenzie and Sierra were in his kitchen, scrolling through something on Sierra’s phone.

  “Figuring out what I’m bringing to Christmas breakfast tomorrow.” Kenzie pointed to something on the screen. “Do we have any jam?”

  “I don’t know. Mom makes some blackberry preserves in the summer. She probably left some here. This one could work.” Sierra rummaged through a cupboard next to the stove. “Yes! I knew Mom wouldn’t let us down.”

  Kenzie gave her a high five.

  They’d all eaten dinner together. He couldn’t exactly kick his sister out when she’d provided the meal. He’d gone to check the barn and had only been gone fifteen minutes. Apparently, his sister and Kenzie had become good friends in that time. Which was nice. Except it was time for Sierra to leave. He needed to have Kenzie all to himself again.

  “Check this out, Tucker.” Kenzie motioned for him to join their huddle. “It’s an app thing. You put in the ingredients you have and it tells you what you can make. Then it gives you the recipe.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Don’t need a recipe for a jar of mayo.”

  “We’re making a blackberry French toast bake.” Kenzie transferred the recipe to her notepad

  She glanced up, beamed at him, and his heart spasmed against his ribcage.

  Fuck it all. He was going to make blackberry French toast. And he was probably going to enjoy it.

  “Do you want me to stay and help?” Sierra asked, all sincere like she wasn’t barging into their evening.

  “I think we got it.” Tucker assured her, using any telepathic abilities he might possess to encourage her to skedaddle.

  Sierra glanced between him and Kenzie. “Well, then it’s time for me to leave. Kenzie, Merry Christmas.”

  “Goodnight.” Kenzie gave his sister a hug.

  Kenzie fitting in with his family should have concerned him. It should have made him want to pack her up and ship her back to California. It should have made him break out in hives.

  It did none of that.

  Sierra patted his arm on the way by. “See you in the morning, Tucker. Don’t mess up the French toast.”

  “Okay.” He rubbed his hands together. “What do we do?”

  Kenzie directed the show. He cut the bread into chunks. She melted the preserves over the stove. He found a brick of cream cheese and cut it into slices. She mixed together eggs and milk and God knew what else.

  He slid the pan onto a shelf in the refrigerator to set overnight.

  Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, he watched Kenzie as she scribbled more words in her notebook. Given the way her eyebrows bunched together and her lips puckered, she wasn’t transcribing a recipe. He knew that look. The look of an artist with a story to tell.

  A niggle of jealousy scratched because the words came to her and not to him. Even so, she felt right, here in his home. Usually having people in his space set his teeth on edge. But Kenzie? No, she fit.

  He ran a hand up the side of her arm. She leaned into his palm and dropped her head against his chest, giving him her weight.

  Gladly, he held her up.

  The snow fell outside the window, snuggling the house in the muffled softness. Just like Kenzie did for him.

  “Your family is really awesome.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my family.” He let his breath play against the sensitive skin of her earlobe. “And you didn’t answer me in the car. Where should I put your bags?”

  She relaxed further against him. “What are we doing?”

  He found the hem of her sweater and let his fingertips trace the top of her jeans, around the side of her hip to her navel. “I think we’re having a vacation.”

  She turned to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I don’t have sex with men just because they want me to.”

  Immediately, he pulled back. “Kenzie”—he held his hands up in surrender—“I thought you wanted this, too. I didn’t mean…” He took another step back, giving her space. “I thought you were into this—”

  Confusion laced her expression. “I am.”

  “Then what’s with the declaration?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I like you, Tucker.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I think you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

  “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming on?”

  “No, that’s not it. I want to make it clear that I don’t just sleep with the guys Leah pairs me with. This is different. You’re different.”

  “Because you
like me.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Well, yeah. I don’t usually like people. I mean, they’re fine. In general. I guess I’m saying, I feel safe with you.”

  Better song lyrics he couldn’t have written. For the first time in months, his fingers itched for a pen. To write down what she’d said. Put it to music.

  His heart beat loudly beneath his ribs. He took a step forward. “There are a lot of assholes in the world.”

  “No kidding.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder.

  “I’m not one of them. I don’t know exactly what’s brewing between us here, but it feels right. For the first time in a long time, it feels right,” he heard himself say the words, but his mind was in a separate place. The place he went when he was drafting a song. He hadn’t been there in forever. Where the hell was that pen? His guitar? Fuck, a keyboard would even work right now, and he was shit when it came to piano work.

  Absently, his fingers echoed the beat of his heart as they tapped the rhythm of the song against his thigh. It pulsed through him, around him, seeming to fill the room even though he knew, logically, it was only in his head.

  His muse had picked a pretty crappy time to show up.

  Kenzie was ready for him, and all he could think about was writing down song lyrics and putting them to music.

  Palms against his chest, she stepped into him, lifted up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands finding the hem of her sweater again, lifting it to touch the smooth skin underneath.

  Mouth open, Kenzie kissed him like he was everything. Right then, it felt like pretty damn much everything. Their lips moved against each other. Her hands gripped the material of his sweatshirt, while his ran up her back to the clasp of her bra.

  “Your bed,” she said against his mouth, barely breaking the kiss to say the words before diving right back in.

  Somehow, he managed to both lead the way to his bedroom and still keep his lips on hers. This was a talent he’d never known he possessed. Given the moans she made against his mouth, she was totally on board with the progression of events.