Cowboy Doms Collection

by BJ Wane

  Connor sat on the raised, padded mat, dreading Tamara’s hands on him. It wasn’t the pain that worried him, but damned if he could understand what it was he was growing more and more uncomfortable with since walking in and discovering she would be his therapist despite being overjoyed at seeing and talking to her again. Like the rest of her, her hands were fine-boned and delicate, but when she placed them on his shoulder and lower arm and lifted, it didn’t surprise him to feel the strength in her grip regardless of her slender frame. She’d grown into a talented, accomplished horsewoman since the day he rescued her from toppling off her first horse, and she’d been handling that massive steed of hers with admirable skill and strong arms since her father had gifted her with the colt on her sixteenth birthday.

  What did surprise him and caught him off guard was the warmth spreading up his arm that had nothing to do with the pain radiating from his shoulder as she maneuvered the joint back and forth, up and down and then in circles. Shifting on the mat in uncomfortable awareness, he reminded himself of who she was. This is Tam, the cute kid I’ve been looking out for for years. The young woman with stars in her eyes who has home and hearth written all over her. He needed to remember that, repeat it as often as necessary to keep from putting a wedge in their special relationship again like he had before she moved away.

  “Hurt?” she asked, raising his arm straight up.

  “A little. Not bad.”

  She smirked, her pewter eyes twinkling as she looked down at him. “Would you admit it if it did?”

  He grinned up at her and shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Men,” she muttered, letting go of his arm. “You’re stiff, the muscles are tight and weak. Knowing you, you probably ignored the doctor’s orders to take it easy and not overdo.”

  She pivoted and walked over to a file cabinet next to the desk. Connor tried and failed not to notice the way her firm ass shifted under the loose uniform pants. Looking away, he gritted his teeth, chastising himself for wondering how those cheeks would look draped over his lap. Damn it, she wasn’t for him, or anyone else to dally with for that matter. Her innocence had always appealed to him in an over-protective, macho manner and kept him from looking at her as anyone other than the young kid he’d befriended, and now the woman whose friendship he cherished and wanted back to keep. Not to mention whose well being he’d taken upon himself to ensure the first time he glimpsed the sheer grit etched on her pixie face as fear lurked in her eyes as she struggled to stay astride her first horse.

  Connor stood as Tam walked back toward him holding several sheets of paper. “I’ll go over some of these exercises and stretches with you and you can use the pulleys on the wall before you go. I recommend using the least amount of weight for now and to concentrate more on stretching and loosening the muscles than strengthening.”

  He looked at the sketches and frowned at the limitation she suggested. “I have a ranch to work. I can’t remain in limbo much longer,” he told her, trying to rein in his frustration. Inactivity didn’t sit well with him.

  “I know that, Con, but if you continue to do too much too soon, you’ll only hinder your progress and extend the time it’ll take to regain your full strength.”

  “Fine, show me these exercises and I’ll give them a whirl.”

  “Hey,” she tossed out, leading him over to the pulleys. “It’s not my fault you were reckless enough to chase after rustlers by yourself. I wasn’t even here when you behaved so foolishly.”

  At the reminder, Connor reached out and took her arm, turning her to face him. “About that morning at my place, Tam, you’ve never let me apologize in person and…” Before he could finish, she pulled from his light clasp and stepped back, her eyes cutting to his in a quick glance filled with chagrin and then sliding away again.

  “Water under the bridge, Con. You don’t need to say anything. I accepted your texted apology, several of them, if you’ll recall. Now, why don’t you try a few stretching maneuvers using this pulley? Concentrate on moving straight up and then all the way down. If it becomes too uncomfortable, stop. I need to check the rest of my schedule for today.”

  Instead of following her instructions, he took hold of her stubborn chin and turned her to face him again. Tilting his head, he asked, “I didn’t like it and I get why you avoided seeing me after I blew up at you, but why wouldn’t you talk to me after your father’s funeral?”

  She sucked in a deep breath, her lips tightening before she replied, “I was a mess, Con, devastated, grief-stricken and not thinking straight. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  He didn’t want to dredge up painful memories for her and drew on a fonder memory to lighten the sudden tension between them. Releasing her soft chin, he drawled, “That wasn’t the first time I saw you when you were a crying mess. I helped then.”

  “Yes, well I’m not a seventeen-year-old whose prom date turned out to be a groping jerk,” she countered with a small smile. It was her turn to cock her head as she asked, “Did I ever mention when I saw Billy Wilcox at school a few days later he’d been sporting a black eye?”

  “You don’t say. Let’s hope he learned his lesson and kept from walking into any more doors. Let’s do this.” He nodded to the pulleys.

  Connor’s mention of that day at his barn and then when they’d seen each other last year shook Tamara; she hadn’t expected him to bring those days up, didn’t want him to resurrect either painful episode. She’d been having enough trouble remaining both friendly and professional due to the shock of his unexpected presence. Their reunion had been inevitable, she’d known that, but even so, she still wasn’t prepared for the impact of that searing blue gaze warming at the sight of her or her body’s quick response to his nearness, to the feel of his strength under her hands.

  Keeping one eye on his efforts at the pulley, she scanned the schedule, relieved to see the busy day ahead. With luck, concentrating on her new patients would keep her mind occupied enough to put off fretting over how she would ever get on with her life if she couldn’t get past this infatuation without relinquishing a friendship she cherished. The hardest part about being away these past few years had been refusing to see Connor. At the time, she’d thought severing all communication with him had been the key to letting go of her hopes for a different kind of relationship with the man she shared a special bond with. Time, distance and allowing another man into her life had proved her wrong and it was disappointing to learn how poorly that sacrifice had failed. Her father’s unexpected death was just one regret that showed her here was where she needed to be, where she now knew she wanted to stay.

  Despite his weakened condition, Connor’s deltoid and triceps brachii muscles still bulged under his light blue denim shirt as he worked through the stretching exercises. The muscled bulk he had amassed working the ranch would aid in his recovery, and she didn’t doubt he would be up to par in no time and wouldn’t require too many appointments with her.

  A light sheen of perspiration spread over his tanned face as he grimaced with the last three repetitions. Shaking her head at his bullheadedness, she returned to his side and put her hand on his arm, halting the stretch in motion.

  “I said to stop if it became too uncomfortable. You will do more damage than good if you push too hard.”

  “I’m fine,” he returned with a touch of irritation.

  Pushing to his feet, Connor’s towering, broad-shouldered height of six-foot-three dwarfed her smaller, ten-inch shorter frame and sent a rush of familiar heat through her. His nearness had always given her a sense of comfort and safety, but it hadn’t been until the summer she turned twenty that she experienced a pleasurable warmth from his closeness and the tenderness in his gaze to go along with those feelings for the first time. It was disconcerting to learn running away hadn’t shaken them and time proved to be as ineffective.

  Stepping back, Tamara returned to her desk and flipped through the schedule book. “We can do a follow-up next Monday morning, same time, if that works f
or you.” That would give her a week to come to terms with her continued desire for a man who refused to regard her as anything more than the neighbor girl he was fond of.

  “I can do that.” Picking up his Stetson off the desk, he put it on and leveled his intent, probing gaze from under the lowered brim on her long enough to make her uncomfortable.

  “What?” she snapped when he said nothing else.

  Shaking his head, a rueful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I was wondering where the years went. Wasn’t it just yesterday you were a scared, gangly kid sliding off your first horse?”

  “No, it wasn’t. Twenty years have passed, Con, and I’m no longer a kid, haven’t been for years now,” she reminded him, for what little good it would do.

  “But you’re still young, and refreshingly innocent. I like that about you, sweetie.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she bit off, “Don’t call me that.” At his puzzled frown, she added, “It’s not professional.”

  Another slow smile swept across his face and tightened the knot in her stomach. “Since when are we on a professional basis? Besides,” he pivoted, tossing over his shoulder as he strode toward the door, “that’s what I call all the girls.”

  “I know.” Tamara assumed her whispery sigh fell on deaf ears as he walked out with a wave the same cocky grin and twinkle in his blue eyes that had turned her adolescent crush into a raging hormonal lust-fest the first time he aimed it her way and she’d been old enough to know what the clutch between her legs meant. That was her Connor, careless and carefree, and happy to stay that way. She’d grown up but doubted he ever would, or even wanted to.

  Tamara did her best to put him out of her mind as she spent the rest of the day getting to know her patients and the staff at Willow Springs medical facility. She couldn’t count how many times her over-protective father had rushed her to an emergency care clinic in Billings long before their small town boasted their own. Once she’d grown comfortable in the saddle and had fallen in love with the entire equine species, there had been no keeping her off horses. Her daredevil stunts earned her reprimands and hugs from her dad, rueful shakes of her stepmother’s head and a few lectures from Connor as he gave her lessons on how to master the feat that sent her toppling off.

  The first ten years of her life were marred by sadness and loneliness because of her mother’s neglect, but the second decade made up for it. She had entered her twenties with a thrilling bang, falling head over heels in love and lust with her friend and oftentimes rescuer. But the last few years had been fraught with devastating pain and heartbreak that had begun with the rift between her and Connor and had escalated last year with her father’s death.

  While she drove home that afternoon happy about reconnecting with Connor again, the resurrection of her strong feelings reinforced her determination to find a way to get him out of her system once and for all. If she could just figure out how to do that.

  After completing a few errands around town, Connor entered Dales Diner at noon. One whiff of Ed and Clyde’s cooking emanating from behind the long counter improved his already upbeat mood. Even though the workout Tam had put him through left his shoulder throbbing more than usual, he was so pleased the two of them had reconnected and agreed to put that last harmful incident behind them it was easy to ignore the aching soreness that irritated him. After hearing about her return, he’d guessed she was the new physical therapist and refrained from hightailing it over to the Dunbar ranch yesterday to put their relationship back together. He figured she wouldn’t be able to avoid him at the clinic as easily as at home.

  Damn, I’ve missed her. He hadn’t realized how much until he’d set eyes on her pixie face again. He wondered if she had kept up with her riding skills while living in the city, and why she had cut her hair. The thick mass of inky, braided silk still hung down between her shoulders, but no longer reached her lower back.

  As he wound his way through the tables to the back booth where Caden and Grayson already waited, he found himself hoping nothing else had changed about the girl he’d always been so fond of.

  “Hey,” he greeted his brother and the sheriff as he took a seat. “Did you order yet?”

  “No, Avery’s getting our drinks. She’s bringing you a coke,” Grayson replied.

  “Your girl knows me too well. I have to say, I’m surprised she’s still working here after landing the IT job in Billings.” Avery’s skills on the computer had aided her in finding evidence against two corrupt cops and had also endeared her to everyone in Willow Springs who benefitted from her expertise.

  Grayson’s eyes followed Avery as she made her rounds. “She didn’t want to leave Gertie short-handed, and since she only has to make the trip to the Billings office twice a week and can work from my place the rest of the time, she wanted to help out here when needed.”

  “Order up, Gertie!” Clyde’s voice rang out.

  “Hold your friggin’ horses. I’ve only got two hands,” Gertie snapped, unconcerned with who heard her.

  All three men smiled at the cantankerous owner’s raspy voice. Loyal to a fault, the widow still ran the popular eatery with a gruff disregard for polite manners. “At least Avery has quit stuttering around Gertie,” Caden said as Grayson’s girl returned with their drinks and smiled at him.

  “I’ve learned her bark is much worse than her bite. Hi, Connor.”

  “Hey, sweetie.” Connor paused, remembering Tam’s comment she didn’t think he heard. “Tell me something. Does it bother you when I call you sweetie?”

  She shook her head. “No, why would it?”

  He nodded, shoving aside the hurt reflected in Tam’s eyes that popped into his head. “Exactly. I’ll take the BLT and a double order of fries.”

  “So, did you keep your physical therapy appointment this morning?” Caden wanted to know after Avery had taken their orders. Reaching for his iced tea, his brother’s look told Connor he expected his answer to be no.

  “As a matter of fact, I did, and you’ll never guess who the new therapist is.”

  Grayson frowned in thought. “There’s no one new in town I know of.”

  “Tamara Barton’s not a new resident,” he said.

  A smile creased Caden’s weathered face. “That explains your good mood even though you want physical therapy like you want a hole in the head.”

  “Of course I’m happy she’s back and was glad to see her again,” he shot back, his tone defensive against the glint in his brother’s identical blue eyes. “We’ve been neighbors for years.”

  “And your pissy mood when she left lasted for months,” Caden reminded him.

  Connor didn’t debate him about that. He’d been both upset and ticked off from the way Tam had left town without even a goodbye and over the way she’d ignored his calls for weeks. She’d accepted his numerous apologies by text, ignored his pleas to get together and then let him know she’d accepted the job in Boise and was on her way to Idaho before he could say goodbye. If it hadn’t been for her father’s willingness to answer his inquiries about her whenever Connor happened to see Richard, he might have tracked her down and insisted she talk to him. The blame lay solely on his shoulders for her silence, forcing him to respect her wish for distance. He shouldn’t have come down on her the way he had when he’d discovered she’d watched that entire scene in his barn. To this day, he didn’t know if it was the shock of knowing the kid he’d befriended all those years ago had witnessed such a thing, or the way his sated cock had stirred again from the lust in her eyes that made him lash out at her and say things he never meant.

  “Richard’s death devastated her. I know she made frequent visits to the ranch, but I’m surprised she didn’t move back before now.” Grayson removed the toothpick nestled in the corner of his mouth as Avery returned with their order. Reaching for his plate, he drawled, “Thank you, sugar.”

  Caden picked up his burger, saying, “It surprised me she left at all. I wonder why she did.”

  “Who?
” Avery asked him but it was Connor who answered.

  “Tamara Barton, who inherited the ranch abutting ours last year after her dad died. Nice girl.” He drilled Caden with a challenging glare his irritating brother ignored.

  “Yeah, Nan mentioned she might join us tomorrow at her tea shop. I’m looking forward to meeting her. I’m clocking out, so I’ll catch you later.”

  Grayson watched her stroll away, his eyes soft as he bit into his hoagie. Connor shook his head with a frown of mock disgust. “Whipped, both of you. It’s nauseating.”

  Caden laughed and slapped him on the back hard enough to have him choking on a fry and reaching for his coke. “Someday, I’ll enjoy watching you eat those words.”

  “Not me, no way, no how. Why settle for one entrée when I can indulge in a buffet any time I want?”

  “Sometimes,” Grayson said, his gray-green gaze shifting to watch Avery walking out, “you discover a new entrée that kills your taste buds for everything else.”

  Connor grunted, a taunting smile curving his lips. “Sap.”

  Tires screeching to a halt broke through Tamara’s misery and she lifted her tear-streaked face from her arms, somehow not surprised to see Connor hopping out of his truck and striding toward her. He’d been riding to her rescue now for seven years, and each time her heart thudded a little faster when those blue, blue eyes zeroed in on her with a look of exasperated fondness and overrated concern. She tried smiling up at him from her perch on the high school’s front steps, but her mouth wobbled instead.

  “Hi,” she sniffed,

  As he squatted down in front of her, she couldn’t help noticing the bulge of his thighs and the glint in his eyes as he caught her distressed appearance in the dim lighting. “What’s up, sweetie?”

  “Boys,” she muttered.

  “Be a little more specific, please.”

  She tightened her hand on her bodice, heat enveloping her face. “Billy Wilcox is a jerk.”