Single-Dad Cowboy (The Buckskin Brotherhood Book 8)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “They’re not there.”

  He paused. “Where are they?”

  “Somewhere else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you rushing to put one on. I have some other things in mind.” She held out her hand. “Come lie down. On your back.”

  Moisture pooled in his mouth. He knew where this was going, and he wanted what she was offering. That activity hadn’t fit with their other sessions because he’d always been quick to roll on a condom.

  Now she’d hidden them. Much as he relished the idea of what she had in mind, he wanted to know where she’d tucked those little raincoats. “Where are they?”

  “I’ll tell you after I have some fun.” She wiggled her fingers. “I want to play.”

  “And I want to let you.” He took her hand and sat on the bed. “But you need to tell me where you put the condoms, so I have one handy.”

  “So you can grab it before you come?”

  “Right.”

  “I was hoping to give you the whole experience.”

  His chest tightened. He hadn’t been loved that way in… years. That kind of trust hadn’t existed in his marriage.

  “You don’t want me to?”

  He gazed at her and the bands around his chest loosened a bit. “I do.”

  “Then you don’t need a—”

  “I want it there on the bedside table.”

  “Why?”

  “Because nine years ago, I was out of my head with lust, couldn’t find one and had sex without it. I don’t regret that for one second, even though it caused me to marry the wrong woman. But that’s why I’m fantatical about—”

  “I understand. Hang on.” She rolled to the other side of the bed and reached between the mattress and box springs. “Here are two.”

  “Just two?” He laid them on the nightstand.

  “The others are tucked in various places. I…” She gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s the elementary teacher in me. I like games.”

  “You’re adorable.”

  “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known. So now you have access to a couple, but I don’t want you to stop me and grab a condom. Will you promise not to?”

  His heart thundered. He was putting her in his hands, literally. And in her mouth, to be precise. She’d asked for his complete surrender. He took a ragged breath. “I promise.”

  “Good.” She glanced at his stiff cock and licked her lips. “Lie down.”

  He stretched out on the bed, anticipation tinged with anxiety flowed like lava through his body. He promised to let go of the reins. Easier said than done.

  She straddled his hips, black satin brushing against various parts of his supercharged package. When she leaned over, her breasts threatened to spill out of her gown.

  She started slow, with gentle licks and soft kisses. Clenching his jaw, he dug his fingers into the mattress. Could he last more than a few seconds? Would he embarrass himself by coming the minute she closed her lips around his cock?

  He would if he watched. He squeezed his eyes shut. Didn’t help much. Her warm breath made him shiver. When she took him into her hot mouth, his balls tightened.

  Then she began to use her tongue, apply pressure, move a little… ahh. He fought to hold back, panting with the effort. If he stopped her now, he could maintain his dignity. But he’d promised.

  His control began to slip. He groaned, grasping for a shred of resistance to the pressure building in his overheated body. Not working. Losing the battle… so good… so good…

  With a wild cry, he came, helpless in the grip of a climax that roared through him, a tsunami of deafening pleasure. As the pulsing gradually subsided, his ears buzzed and his breath came in tortured gasps.

  She stayed with him until he grew quiet. After releasing his cock with great tenderness, she slid up beside him and gave him a deep kiss. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her back. He was drained, yet energized.

  Lifting her head, she nestled her cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  He huffed in surprise. “You’re thanking me?”

  “You let yourself be vulnerable. I wasn’t sure you would.”

  He wound his arms around her. “I wasn’t sure I would, either. But I’m glad I did. I feel… different.”

  “How?”

  “Like I survived going over the falls in a barrel.”

  She chuckled. “That intense, was it?”

  “That might be a slight exaggeration. I wasn’t afraid I would die.”

  “But you were afraid?”

  “I was. My life is all about keeping it together. Just now I set myself up to come completely unglued, reduced to a howling, crazy man who barely knows what he’s doing.”

  “But doesn’t the same thing happen when we make love?”

  “Not if you come first.”

  “Oh, so you want me to become the howling crazy person so your reaction gets lost in the shuffle.”

  “That’s the sad truth of it.” He stroked her hair.

  “Well, now that you’ve gone over the falls in a barrel, think you’ll ever want to do it again?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that. But have you conquered your fear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He hesitated. Yeah, he could say it. “As long as I’m with you.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nell’s sensual gift to Zeke deepened their connection, adding to the magic as they made love. Although he didn’t say the word, his touch and the light in his eyes told her all she needed to know.

  They slept a little and he left at dawn, his reluctance obvious. Being with her clearly bolstered his spirits, but his decision to face this family drama without her was the right one.

  Sending him off with kisses and smiles, she settled into a day of waiting for news. She’d thrown in a load of laundry and was making a grocery list when Val texted.

  Lunch at Gertie’s? I desperately need to talk.

  Desperately? When she’d bid her friend goodbye after the riding lesson, Val was looking forward to having dinner with Teague at the Choosy Moose.

  She typed a quick reply. Twelve-thirty?

  C U then. No exclamation points, no smiley faces.

  Val was an emoji nut. Something was very wrong in her world if she was sending undecorated texts.

  Uh-oh. Phone battery was very low. Better charge it. Zeke would likely contact her at some point today or tonight. Oh, yeah, he hadn’t played her the ringtone he’d assigned to her, after all. They’d both forgotten. No wonder. They’d been too busy making love to think about ringtones.

  Two hours later, she parked in front of Gertie’s. Val’s little truck sat two spaces down, but Val wasn’t in it. She wasn’t sitting at one of the two umbrella-topped bistro tables on the sidewalk, either.

  The sandwich shop was at its festive best in warm weather, when pots of red geraniums picked up the color of the red-and-white umbrellas. Both tables were taken by folks surrounded by shopping bags, likely tourists.

  Val must be inside saving them a place. Visitors flocked to Apple Grove this time of year. Because the summer crowd helped keep local businesses afloat, Nell didn’t mind that seating was hard to come by in one of her favorite eateries.

  As she started toward the entrance, Val hailed her. Her friend hurried down the sidewalk, a shopping bag in each hand.

  She held them up. “I just dropped a wad at Jeans Junction.”

  “Are they having a sale?” Funny that Val hadn’t mentioned it and hadn’t thought to invite her.

  “No sale. This is therapy.”

  Val always waited for a sale. “Teague?”

  “Yep.” Big sunglasses hid her eyes, but her voice quivered. Her gorgeous blond hair, which she usually styled with a brush and blow dryer, looked as if it had been washed and left to dry on its own. “Let’s go order.”

  “My treat.” Nell held the door for her.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Val pause
d. “No seats.”

  “Let’s get stuff to go and take it over to the gazebo.”

  “That’ll work.” Misery echoed in every syllable. “Probably better, anyway.”

  Nell convinced Val to let her pay, probably because Val didn’t have the energy to argue. They stood in silence at the pickup window waiting for their order.

  Eager to lift the dismal mood that had settled over them, Nell glanced at the bags. “What did you buy?”

  “I don’t know.” Val shrugged. “Jeans, blouses.”

  Whatever had happened must be really bad. Val loved shopping for clothes. She was built like a model, tall and slim. Everything looked good on her.

  Eventually their order came up. Nell picked up the cardboard tray that held both sacks and their drinks. Then she led the way out the door and across the street to the grassy square. “Smells good out here.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yeah, especially the grass. Since I grew up in a high-rise, I’m always excited about walking on it and breathing in that tangy smell.” She looked over at the gazebo. “Nobody’s claimed the steps. There’s even a bit of shade. We can sit there.”

  “Okay.”

  “Or we can climb up to the roof if you want. I’m sure there’s a nice view of the mountains from there.”

  Val looked over at her. “Very funny.”

  “I thought so.”

  She plopped down on the second step from the top and handed Val her sack and her iced tea.

  “Thank you. Thank you for buying my lunch. That was sweet.” She stared at the sack without opening it. Then she sniffed.

  “Oh, Val.” Nell put down her sandwich and wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “What happened?”

  “He… he proposed!” She choked back a sob. “The dirty rat asked me to marry him!”

  It would be hilarious, except it wasn’t. “I thought you made yourself clear on that issue.”

  “I did! So help me, I absolutely did.” She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, dug in the bag and pulled out a napkin. Then she mopped her face and blew her nose.

  “Then why did he propose?”

  “He didn’t believe me. He thinks I say that to every guy in the beginning. But after we had such a great time together, especially in bed, he figured I was falling for him so he popped the question.”

  “After a week?”

  “He said it wasn’t the time that was important, it was the amazing connection.” She took a shaky breath and blew her nose again.

  “Is he in love with you?”

  “He thinks he is. But how can he be? Like you said, it’s been a week. Nobody falls in love in a week except in the movies.”

  “Well, I’ve heard of a few cases.” She’d been involved with Zeke for only two weeks and her heart was definitely on the line. Then again, she’d spent time with him building the greenhouse. She’d been half in love with him after that.

  “I can’t believe he’s done this. He ruined everything.”

  “I take it you’re not in love with him.”

  “Certainly not!”

  “Then I have a question.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t get mad at me, but… if you’re not into him, why are you crying?”

  “I’m not in love! I’m furious! I want to punch him in his sexy face. I almost did, too, but I have a mean left hook and I might have broken that beautiful nose.”

  “I’m glad you restrained yourself.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I reminded him of what I’d said, that I only want a nice guy to have a good time with. He asked why we couldn’t have a good time as husband and wife. He doesn’t get it.”

  “So it’s over?”

  “So over, and I hate that because he’s got it all—a cute house, a terrific body, sexy moves in bed, good hygiene—” She paused. “You just snorted. What’s so funny about good hygiene?”

  “Nothing.” Nell swallowed her laughter. “It’s highly desirable in a partner.” And Val was full of it. Whether she wanted to be emotionally involved with Teague or not, she was up to her eyeballs in gooey feelings for that cowboy.

  On the other hand, she was so dead-set against making a commitment that she might not recognize love if it bit her on the backside. And if Teague was an inventive lover, it probably had.

  “You know what else? Now I have to see him twice a week for the riding lessons.”

  “I guess you could quit.”

  “Hell, no, I’m not quitting. I suggested he find someone to take over for him so he wouldn’t have to suffer through seeing me twice a week. But he has no intention of doing that. He’s attached to those girls.”

  “And they’re attached to him.”

  “He had the gall to mention that. He even said—get this—that since we both like kids so much, we’d be awesome parents! Can you believe the guy?”

  “He has cojones, all right.”

  “I don’t want to think about his cojones, thank you very much.”

  Nell ducked her head. Giggling was not appropriate. Val was in pain, even though it was self-inflicted. Between Zeke’s folks and Val’s feud with Teague, this weekend would be a doozy.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jake insisted on giving Claire the front seat on the trip to the airport. Zeke glanced in the rearview mirror as his daughter chattered away, regaling Jake with stories about her beloved Gramma Frannie and Grampa Bud.

  Jake was quick with a smile or a comment whenever Claire twisted toward the back seat. The rest of the time he sat in stoic silence, his big hands gripping his knees, his jaw clenched tight.

  Zeke wasn’t crazy about the stream of praise for Bud, either. He switched on the radio to distract himself and Jake from the litany of Bud’s awesomeness. Helped a little.

  At some point in the past few hours he’d switched to calling him Bud instead of my dad. It was a small act of rebellion that added distance. Clearly Jake had noticed because he’d started doing it, too.

  The side-view mirror gave him a glimpse of the gleaming vintage grille of Garrett’s refurbished truck. The other six members of the Brotherhood had divided up between Garrett’s truck and Matt’s shiny black one. Leo and Rafe rode with Garrett. CJ and Nick were with Matt. All three trucks had been washed and detailed.

  Every so often Jake turned around and looked through the back window. He was likely as cheered by the caravan as Zeke was. Everyone had taken CJ’s suggestion and dressed to the nines. Hats were brushed and boots polished. Zeke wore the black shirt Nell admired so much.

  Claire had on her favorite yoked shirt and her newest pair of jeans. Her boots were polished and her hat brushed, too. He’d asked if she wanted to wear the dress Gramma Frannie had sent her for Easter. She’d rejected the idea, announcing that she was a wrangler, now, and wranglers didn’t wear frilly dresses.

  His mom would be disappointed not to see Claire wearing it, but he didn’t push. His daughter had a right to choose. If the dress never came out of the closet, they’d donate it to charity.

  They’d hit the halfway point when his tolerance for Bud stories gave out. He switched off the radio. “Hey, sweetie, remember how we sang rounds when we made the drive to Apple Grove in February?”

  “I sure do. That was fun!”

  He checked in the rearview. “Want to sing rounds with us, Uncle Jake?”

  “You bet, little brother.”

  “Yay!” Claire bounced in her seat. “I’ll start us off, then Daddy, then you. I’ll point to each of you when it’s your turn. Got it?”

  Jake smiled. “Got it, Claire-bear.”

  She giggled. Jake had come up with the rhyming nickname a few weeks ago in reference to her large collection of teddy bears. She clearly loved him to call her that. “You’re silly, Uncle Jake.”

  “Never said I wasn’t.”

  “Do you know Row, Row, Row Your Boat?”

  “I believe I do. If I get stuck, I’ll just fake it.”

  “I’ll tell it
to you.” She recited the words slowly. “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. Think you can remember that?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Zeke checked in the mirror again. Jake’s expression had improved a hundred and fifty percent. His eyes had lost their haunted look. The signature Jake twinkle was back.

  “When I do this chopping motion with my hand, that means we quit and go to the next song. Otherwise you’ll get sick of this one.”

  “You have more songs?” Jake’s expression brightened even more.

  “Oh, yeah. A ton of them.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Okay, here we go!” Claire belted out the first line, pointed at him and then turned to signal Jake.

  Ah, much better. They didn’t sound half-bad, either. Jake was clearly into it, adding rowing motions to his backseat performance. They might make it through this part of the trip, after all.

  The ride home would be a challenge, though. He and Jake had discussed the seating arrangement. They’d stick Bud at shotgun and put Claire in the back between her Gramma Frannie and Jake.

  Bud wasn’t exactly a joy to have in the passenger seat, but it was better than making Jake deal with him. The few times Zeke had driven Bud somewhere, he’d spent the time offering unsolicited advice on navigating traffic. Maybe they’d sing rounds on the way back, too.

  The plane was on time. So was the Brotherhood. Matt took charge, organizing the lineup at the base of the escalator and placing Zeke and Claire in the middle. After much discussion, Jake claimed the place on Claire’s other side.

  Claire was in favor. “He’ll be glad to see you, Uncle Jake. He might not get to show it because he doesn’t want Gramma Frannie to know, but inside he’ll be very happy you’re there.”

  Her innocent evaluation made Zeke’s heart hurt. Over the top of Claire’s head, he met Jake’s gaze. Any amusement left over from singing rounds was gone. The light of battle glowed in his brother’s eyes.

  Zeke’s breath caught. “Jake…”

  “No worries, little brother. I’m cool.”