The Undercover Cowboy

by Lori Wilde

  The universe yanking them together like magnetic kissing dolls.

  The universe?

  Oh, Christ. What had she done to him? He did not resist because holy shit, her lips were warm and soft and moist and tasted like sugar-dusted strawberries—red and ripe and rich. She was in it to win it, BASE jumping from Mount Everest and dragging him along with her.

  His palms slipped under the hem of her blouse, fingers splaying over her bare back. She parted her lips and their tongues rushed to greet each other and they drank each other up.

  He forgot they were in an elevator in the middle of a blackout. He forgot he was an undercover cop and she was a suspect. He damn near forgot his own name. He was going down for the count. It was a face-plant, white-flag, full-surrender, take-me-prisoner, I’ll-talk, I’ll-spill, I’ll-give-it -all-up-for-you-Al, knock down.

  Time exploded. Shattered into a billion little fragments. Ceased to exist.

  The world was her mouth, and her mouth was the world.

  Her fingers combed through his hair. He cupped her face between his palms, held her gently in place while they explored this new and exciting terrain. His blood was lava, coursing through his veins, free-flowing and glowing red-hot. He eased her down onto her back, cradled her head, straddled her.

  Elevator, man. Can’t do this. You’re in an elevator. She deserves better.

  He straightened.

  She moaned, gasping for air.

  Lights came on. Bathing them in harsh yellow. The lift jerked upward.

  They stared into each other’s eyes. Her blouse had come unbuttoned. Her hair was mussed. Her lips reddened, swollen. Her eyes wide and filled with magic.

  His heart knocked, full-on angry-fists-on-door-let-me-in-at-two-a.m. hammered.

  Kade felt the earth shift in some fundamental way. Felt his molecules split, scramble, reorganize.

  If the lift hadn’t chugged to a stop . . . If the doors hadn’t clanged open . . . If the apartment complex maintenance man hadn’t been standing there . . .

  Kade couldn’t have said for sure what would have happened next.

  Chapter Six

  Allie couldn’t get the kiss out of her mind.

  Technically, it wasn’t just a kiss, but a series of parted lips, excited tongues, full-mouth assaults on each other. Whatever you wanted to call it, that thing they’d done in the lift, well . . . it had been her undoing.

  And she couldn’t quite figure out if he’d broken her or saved her.

  Maybe both.

  Either way, she moved through the days leading up to the Fourth of July weekend in a hazy daze of delight and excitement. She couldn’t help feeling something big was unfolding, but life had taught her to stay in the present moment and to keep her mind fixed on gratitude. No matter how things were going to end between them, she was grateful for what they’d already shared.

  What they were sharing . . .

  Because they saw each other every day. They timed their lunch breaks to coincide—his idea—and he insisted on coming back to the town square every evening after his shift to walk her home.

  Which was extremely sweet.

  But her schedule was jam-packed, so they agreed that dating would have to take the back burner until after the Fourth of July, when everything calmed down.

  Until then, the time they had together was limited. Whenever they were with each other, they didn’t talk much. Rather, on their lunch breaks, they’d often skip food entirely, slip into a cool public building, find a secluded alcove, and kiss up a storm. On their hand-holding walks back to their apartment complex at night, Rick would ask her about her job at the popup. She loved talking about art, and she’d get carried away with the details of her work, but he seemed fascinated.

  But whenever she tried to ask questions about his life, he seemed to always lead the conversation back to her.

  At first, she loved the attention, but after a few days, she started to wonder if maybe he was hiding something from her. A thousand doubts popped into her head. What if he was married? What if he had a criminal record? What if he was a con man trying to run a scam on her?

  Call her naive, but she didn’t want to believe any of that, so she chose to think instead he was a humble, unassuming guy who simply didn’t like talking about himself.

  What she knew of him was scant. Mostly surface stuff. He liked chili mac, the Texas Rangers, Lone Star beer, homemade peach ice cream, 1950s film noir, and bluegrass music. He’d lost a front tooth when he was ten in a Little League accident and had a dental implant. He’d never learned how to ride a bicycle because he’d grown up riding horses. He preferred winter to summer, baseball to football, and Wranglers to Levi’s.

  One thing she knew for sure, he was a damn fine kisser, and she couldn’t get enough of that manly mouth.

  Job-wise, things were going well. The popup had opened, and Allie spent her days leading guided tours of the art gallery and relishing using her knowledge. In the mornings, before she went to work at the Visitors Center, she ran errands for Dr. Thorn, most of which entailed ferrying packages to and from the museum district in Fort Worth.

  Dr. Thorn had taken her under his wing, much to Ennui’s displeasure, and taught her the ins and outs of his popup business model, reiterating that he might hire her once the exhibit was over if she did a good job.

  Allie found herself daydreaming about the possibilities of such an exciting career opportunity, touring from city to city, setting up popup galleries, getting people excited about art, working in her chosen field, learning, growing, creating.

  But if she got offered a permanent job, that would mean leaving behind Twilight, her family and friends, and her budding relationship with Rick.

  Cross that bridge when you come to it, she reminded herself. Life unfolded day by day, moment by moment, and right now, hers was unfolding spectacularly.

  On Friday, Rick showed up to take her home in his freshly washed and vacuumed silver Ford pickup truck with an extended cab and running boards.

  “What’s this?” she asked as he opened the passenger door and helped her inside.

  “I’m taking you to dinner,” he said. “This will be our last chance to see each other until after the Fourth.”

  He was right. No more lunch-hour getaways. Twilight was expecting an influx of ten thousand tourists for the long holiday weekend, and it was all hands on deck.

  It saddened her a bit that they would no longer be stealing lunch-hour kisses. But, on the bright side, they were going out for a late dinner, which was a step forward in their relationship.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked, buckling her seat belt as he started the engine, her pulse pounding a swift rat-a-tat-tat.

  “Froggy’s Diner is open until one a.m. in the summer,” he said. “And they have killer burgers. Is that okay with you?”

  “Sure.” She smiled, just happy to be with him. She didn’t care what or where they ate, the company was the thing.

  “Are you always so easy to get along with?” he asked.

  “For the most part,” she said. “I’m just happy to be here.”

  “I like that about you, Rosy,” he said.

  “Rosy?” she asked. “A new nickname?”

  He canted his head, glanced over at her. “Because you see the world through those beautiful rose-colored glasses.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I dunno.” He shrugged. “I worry about you.”

  “Why is that?”

  “People can take advantage.”

  “Not all people. Not always. And I can’t live my life worried about who is trying to take advantage of me.”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he bit his bottom lip. She could tell he wanted to say something but was holding back.

  “What?” she prodded.

  “Nothing. You are who you are.”

  She studied his profile, the stubble at his jaw, the way his hair curled around the top of his ear, the set of his lips. “Ri
ck?”

  He turned his head again and looked at her with such compassion it took her breath. For a tough cowboy, underneath lurked a surprisingly gentle side. “Yes?”

  “How hungry are you?”

  He lifted a casual shoulder as if to say he could eat or not. “What do you have in mind?”

  She reached across the seat, touched his knee, scared and excited by her boldness. This was a first for her. She’d never propositioned a man before. “What if we skipped the burgers and went to your place instead?”

  Fueled by testosterone, lust, and intriguing possibilities, Kade made an immediate U-turn, propelled his Ford dually ten miles over the posted speed limit, and considered making it twenty. One flash of his badge would get him out of a ticket if he got pulled over, but he couldn’t afford to tip his hand.

  Yet.

  While he was certain, after spending time with Allie, that she wasn’t intentionally involved with the art-theft ring, he knew Thorn was using her. Setting her up to take the fall for the stolen painting. Day by day, he’d been drawing information from her about Thorn, and the more she told him, the more certain he was that she was Thorn’s pasty. Then a startling thought seized him.

  Ah, shit. He was using her too.

  A rueful prickle of heat burned up the back of his neck. Call it off. Take her home. Tell her this wasn’t—

  She reached across the seat, rested her hand on his thigh, and whispered, “Hurry.”

  That one insistent, urgent word spurred him. So much for gallantry, so much for self-control.

  Except he wasn’t that guy. He prided himself on being the calm one, the cool one. The one who, while he enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, certainly never let it hijack his common sense. But damn if his hands weren’t trembling as he raced around the pickup to help her out.

  She launched herself into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Crushing his mouth on hers, he kissed her with hot, hard desperation. Was he losing his ever-loving mind?

  A happy noise oozed from her and she slipped her tongue between his teeth, catching him so off guard he staggered into the shrubbery that lined the walkway.

  Blindly, he waltzed her up the flagstone pavers, clutching her tight, holding her close—kissing, kissing, kissing the sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted. Tupelo honey and state fair cotton candy and purple Pixy-Stix had nothing on his Rosy.

  They stumbled into the lift together and Kade wasn’t really sure how they made it to his front door without mishap. He set her down behind him and fished in his pocket for his house keys. She slid her arm around his waist and nestled her head against his back, letting him know she was all in.

  He fumbled with the keys, as raw and randy as a sixteen-year-old getting laid for the first time. It niggled him, this lack of restraint, but not enough to stop. The door wrenched open and they tumbled inside.

  Allie pulled his head down for another searing kiss. He tugged her up tight against his body and she raked her fingers through his hair, sending heat bullets straight to his groin.

  God, he could eat her right up.

  Apparently, she was thinking the same thing. She captured his bottom lip between her teeth and sucked as if she planned on devouring him whole. This blasted heat wave must have melted both the polar ice caps and the brakes on his libido.

  He was a goner.

  But she was too—letting go, shedding inhibitions, sighing with reckless abandon and unabashed delight.

  A random thought occurred to him that struck solid and true. This headlong heedlessness was a first for her, and that revved his engines higher, hotter, spinning him out of control.

  “Wait,” he panted, breaking her hold on his neck, setting her aside.

  “What?” she asked, sounding grumpy, frazzled.

  “I gotta ask. Are you sure this is really what you want?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but her pupils were wide and bright, her lips glistening with moisture. Her tousled hair fell across her cheek. Gorgeous. She was freaking gorgeous.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” Her voice was adamant, militant.

  He growled low and fierce, yanked her back into his arms. She startled, hitched in a swift breath. He loosened his hold. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t.” She shook her head, eyes sparkling. “I like roller coasters.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “You know, how they jerk you up, drop you down, and take your breath away.” Her breathing was shallow now, and fast. As fast as his thudding pulse.

  He tightened his hand on her arm, murmured, “You want a wild ride, Rosy?”

  She nodded, her gaze focused on him, full of fire and energy.

  “Tell me what you want, how you want it, where you want it, and I will make it happen.” Promises. He was making big promises. Could he keep them?

  “I like it when you’re forceful,” she murmured. “I’m tired of kid gloves.”

  Holy freaking cow, yes! Yes! “I like it when you’re forceful right back,” he countered.

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s play.”

  He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist again. He bent his knee, jammed it against the wall. She slid down his thigh until her back was pressed against the plaster, speared between his legs.

  The pulse at the hollow of her throat jumped crazily.

  Kade dipped his head to her neck, nibbled the throbbing vein, felt the heat and tasted her salty skin.

  Allie tossed her head back, her soft blond hair falling like satin over his arm. The rough moan rolling from her throat shot through him like a steel rod, zooming straight to his shaft. His erection swelled against his zipper, desperate, insistent.

  Had he ever in his life been this hard?

  His hands skated up from her waist to her breasts, felt the warm, soft flesh through the thin silk of her dress as it filled his palms. Naked. He had to get her naked. How the hell did he get her out of this getup?

  Did it have a zipper? Buttons? Did the dress pull right over her head? For the life of him, he couldn’t seem to figure it out.

  Shuddering, she thrust her breasts against his palms, her nipples knotted tight. Dear Lord, but the woman was so sexy and responsive. Every touch, every glance, every sigh was a swift arrow to his gut.

  Gut, hell. He felt her everywhere—on his thigh, against his hands, in his heart.

  He wanted her to feel him in the same way. Ached to know what made her writhe and squirm, whisper and groan. He craved to know her in the most intimate way possible. To lick and taste, knead and caress, bind and release. To wring her inside out until she gave him everything, had nothing left to surrender.

  All of her.

  He wanted all of her.

  An impatient sound grated gritty across her lips and she was kissing him again, a long, deep, throaty kiss, full of heat and tongue. A kiss that turned his knees wobbly and sent his blood galloping through his body.

  “Take me,” she whimpered. “Take me now.”

  His hands ached to rip the dress right off her body. Strip off her panties. Take her forcefully, powerfully. Yes. But he didn’t want to wreck her clothes or risk hurting her or scare her in any way. She indicated she wanted things rough and wooly, but oddly, surprisingly, Kade was no longer sure that was what he wanted.

  Allie was unique. Special.

  Gently, he eased her down the wall, settled her on the floor. “Not yet,” he said. “I want this to last.”

  Mutely, she nodded, reached down to undo the buckles on the straps of her high-heeled sandals. She eased off the shoes, lost three inches of height, held them in one hand, gave him a look that was both confident and unguarded. She was so open, frighteningly so. Her enticing combination of strength and fragility stirred him. He’d never met anyone so self-assured in her vulnerability.

  She spread her arms as if to say, Take me as I am. “Do you have any . . .” She swallowed visibly. “Um . . . protection?”<
br />
  “I’ve got condoms.” He swept her into his arms and whisked her down the hall to his bedroom, happy as hell the housekeeper had been there the day before. The place smelled like lemon air freshener and sandalwood soap.

  Allie hesitated at the door to his bedroom.

  He reached around to turn on the light. “Second thoughts?” he asked, sensing a change in the energy.

  “No.” She shook her head vigorously. “But we’ve been dancing. A shower maybe?”

  He brought her into his embrace, dropped his head to her hair, and inhaled deeply. “I love your smell.”

  She tensed.

  It occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t have used the word “love,” but he did love her scent. It reminded him of summers spent at his grandparents’ farm. She smelled like long lazy days at the swimming hole, like the white-yellow flowers that grew along the fencerow, like the chilled watermelon slices eaten on the backyard picnic table and Granny’s home-churned peach ice cream.

  And she smelled like gorgeous sexy woman. Never a bad thing.

  Allie wrinkled her nose. “I stink like sweat.”

  “Maybe I like sweaty.” He lowered his voice and his eyelids, giving her a sultry once-over. “Besides, we’re just going to get sweatier.”

  She laughed, a hearty sound that illuminated his world. “You make a good point.”

  Kade kissed her again because he’d gone too long without the taste of her lips and whispered, “How in the hell do we get you out of that dress?”

  Chapter Seven

  Holding her breath, Allie turned around so that Rick could open the buttons at the back of her dress. Normally, she wouldn’t bother undoing the buttons, and would just pull the dress over her head, but she needed to feel his fingers against her back. Wanted to linger on the act of getting undressed.

  Plus, for some reason, it felt safer having him at her back.