Tempting the Cowboy (9 page)

He wanted her in his bed. Under him. Screaming his name. Fuck the consequences. He’d been dying to worship her body from the day he’d walked her to the stables. Knowing what she’d been through with a shithole husband, now he wanted it that much more. Cole brought his mouth back to hers and was just about to swallow her moan when a voice cleared behind him. Needles raced over his back, his head whipping to the side. A security guard shone his light on them, a grim look on his bearded face.

“Party’s over, you two. Take it inside.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cole grumbled, turning back to Rylan and tipping his forehead to her chest. A small, disbelieving laugh bubbled up and escaped her mouth. Cole smiled in response.

“Yes, sir,” he called out without looking.

Rylan scooted backward onto the stool. Cole reluctantly supported her, missing the heat and sensual feel of her body as she regained her original position on the seat. The security guard cleared his throat again, obviously not happy that they weren’t moving on immediately. Cole considered barking that he was the owner of the damn place, but one look at Rylan’s expression told him the mood was cooling. Disappointment enveloped him at the uncertainty in her eyes—as if she were quietly examining what had just passed between them and second-guessed it all.

He wasn’t second-guessing a goddamn thing. He still wanted her, against his better judgment, against history as a past indicator of future success. As he took Rylan’s hand, helped her down, and led her from the tent, he had the nagging suspicion he’d always want her—no matter how many times he might bury himself in her body. They strolled under a brilliant moon toward the ranch house, his cock and her breathing having a hard time getting the message that sexy-times had been aborted for the moment.

He turned to her at the base of the steps and pulled her in against his chest. To his relief, Rylan’s arms went up and around his neck without hesitation. Her nipples pebbled against him hard enough that he could feel it through the layers of clothing between them. Ice and fire decided to breed painful babies in his balls. Cole tugged on her hair, just enough to tip her head back. It wouldn’t take much to rekindle the fire. He gritted his teeth. When it happened between them, he didn’t want either of them to regret a single moment. The uncertainty behind the passion in her eyes told him this wasn’t that moment.

“You’re going to go in the house, slip into your room, and lock the door behind you. Understand?” He tracked the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “If you don’t, we’re going to finish what we started, and you’ll scream my name until you’re hoarse.”

She paused, then pulled her lower lip between her teeth right before she gave a reluctant nod. Rylan reached up on tiptoe to kiss him softly, her fingers streaking over his face.

“Good night, Cole.” She turned and ascended the porch stairs. Her footfalls padded across the wood, the
click
and
clack
of the door swallowing her. Cole looked up at the bright stars as he fought with his body to cool the fuck down. He ached for her, in more ways than one. Sex, yes. But his arms ached too, just to hold her, to pull her body tightly next to him as she slept and inhale the sweet scent of her hair. Good night? Nope. There would be nothing good about the hours that separated him from the dawn. Not one thing.

Chapter Ten

Wine. Yeah, that was a really bad idea. Rylan unloaded the dishwasher with a throb drumming in her head. It matched the nagging ache between her legs that had refused to go away since last night. Damn Cole and his naughty, incredible mouth. She paused to take in the pasture view outside the kitchen window, a dinner plate in each hand. The view was so amazing—lush green highlighted with foggy mountains in the backdrop—she lost her thoughts for a moment.

But then memories of the night before came back hard and insistent. She had made a fool of herself, her tongue especially when it wagged her sob story. Cole had looked so good, his light-blue shirt halfway unbuttoned and untucked from his jeans. Her mouth had needed something to do, and since she’d known better than to drink anymore, it was either talk or lick him from here to there. Talking seemed safer, but she’d pretty much ended up licking him anyway. What the hell was wrong with her?

Cole Haywood was off-limits. She knew it, but she didn’t feel it. He was her boss, and more importantly, a single father. He and Birdie were a matched set, and no matter how much she might want Cole, she wasn’t emotionally ready to take on a child. Not in a capacity more than their current situation required. Boots scuffing the floor grabbed her attention, and she turned. Cole nodded in greeting and set a coffee cup on the counter, a slow grin pulling at his lips as if he knew she’d just been thinking about him.

Her chest did a little flippy thing at the sight of him. Untucked gray T-shirt, no hat, wet hair, beat-up old Wranglers, and boots. Jesus, the man could wear a tarp and drop a woman dead. Blood rushed in her ears, and her shoulders tensed a little. Last night…
Oh, man.

“You know, that isn’t going to work around here.” The sound of his voice, all gravelly and male, made Rylan close her eyes a moment just to experience it. It wasn’t only the sound of his voice—it was the feeling that washed over her when she heard it. He winked and waved a finger at her feet, the gesture bringing a smile to her lips. Rylan glanced down. Her ripped Silver jeans were rolled calf-high, and her gray Wisconsin Badgers T-shirt was a little faded. After the beautiful dress she’d worn yesterday, she was sure she looked like a hungover hillbilly.

“Umm, what?”

“Those.” Cole hitched one leg and pointed at her feet. “Whatever those are.”

Rylan stuck a foot out and wiggled her toes with a flush of heat over her chest. Last night should have hung like an elephant over them, but his easy demeanor and the teasing twinkle in his eyes was putting her at ease.

“This nifty invention is called a sandal. A Birkenstock, to be exact.”

“Yeah, well, sandals aren’t going to cut it.” He leaned his ass against the counter, his eyes unabashedly drinking her in. Rylan made a mocking sound.

“Ah yes. I forgot that I need skintight Wranglers, a sparkly shirt, and some kick-ass boots to mop the floor and do the laundry.” She braced her hands on the counter behind her and tilted back. A brilliant smile cut across his rugged face, flashing her those perfect, white teeth. The slight upturn of his upper lip was more pronounced, making his mouth all the more appealing.

“You have a sexy smile.” Rylan hitched a half breath, her cheeks growing ice-cold. The breath came back out in a rush as she looked down and crossed her ankles with a little laugh. “Ah, yeah, that wasn’t supposed to actually come out of my mouth.”

Cole chuckled, the response surprising her. She dared look at him, her scalp tingling to see a swipe of pink across his cheeks. It must be the light, because men like Cole did not blush at a tiny compliment. She shook her head and turned back to the dishes. He needed to get out of the kitchen before she said more stupid things, like how much she’d loved what happened between them last night, how much she wanted more.

“Okay, get out of here. You’re in my way.”

“Look at me, Rylan.” The command wasn’t gentle, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her pulse notching again. She turned to meet his gaze for a fraction of a second before looking away.

“Nope. Right here.” He pointed to his eyes and she followed, lost in the bright glow of his expression with its underlying smolder. “Thank you,” he said. “For the compliment.” He wasn’t smiling anymore.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. You’re welcome.” She turned back to her work before something else ridiculous spouted out of her.

“By the way, you have an incredible ass.” Cole clomped out of the kitchen as Rylan’s head snapped up. “And if you have something besides
Birkenstocks
to wear, meet me at the barn in half an hour. You can ride out to the west pastures with me.”

Hell, she’d find something else to wear if it killed her.

…

The squeak of the saddle was a familiar, comforting sound as Rylan rode alongside Cole, drinking in the scenery as they walked their horses across the plain. Everything seemed to be in full bloom—purple and pink flowers dotting the grassy land, the evergreens bright and vibrant shades of green, the mountains subdued in azure and gray. A wide-open stretch of grassland lined by a lush pine ridge bordering the base of the mountain stretched out before them. Back home in Wisconsin, she’d been raised on 140 acres of hay field. Not a mountain or hill in sight.

As beautiful as the scenery was, though, it did little to take her mind off Cole or the fact that he’d barely said two words since they left the barn. The silence was fine by her. It gave her the chance to rope her nerves into submission and settle the slight awkwardness that they hadn’t addressed their near-miss late-night romp.

Cole’s brown-and-white overo was taller than hers, and Rylan had to admit Cole was an impressive sight on top of that powerful horse. ”It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”

She knew he’d been watching her as she took it all in. The heat on her cheeks wasn’t just from the sun. “Yeah. It’s amazing.”

He took off his hat and ran fingers through his hair before setting it back on. “It’s easy to take this place for granted. Sometimes, I just forget to look anymore.” The slight longing in his tone took her off guard and raised a protective feeling. He was so damn busy all the time she didn’t doubt for one second that slower moments like this didn’t happen nearly as often as they should.

Rylan’s horse sidestepped, driving her knee into Cole’s leg. “Sorry.” She was still getting used to the sturdy gelding beneath her. Exceptionally trained, he was cued in to leg pressure that Rylan wasn’t completely familiar with. One unintentional movement of her legs had the poor horse going in all sorts of directions. Though she’d grown up riding, her all-around quarter horse wasn’t trained quite as impressively as the one she was on right now.

She opened her mouth to say something about last night, realized she hadn’t really thought about
what
to say, cleared her throat, and changed her mind.

“Dad milked eighty-five head of Holstein,” she said. “There wasn’t much to see beyond the cows and the corn. Not like here at all.”

“Huh.” Cole let his forearms rest on the pommel. “I didn’t figure you for a farm girl.”

“How did you figure me, exactly?” Rylan asked, as she heard the trickle of water ahead. She searched the land for the source.

Cole shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured any woman who grows up to be a city cop probably had it rough as a kid.”

Rylan laughed, turning to him. “Well, getting up to milk cows at four-thirty a.m. before school every day
was
rough, thank you. That and smelling slightly like cow shit all the time.” Her horse bumped Cole’s again, their legs hitting hard this time.

Cole reached out and gave her horse a shove on the neck. “Loosen your right leg. Just let it fall. Put pressure on his side with your left calf, like you’re trying to push him over your leg.” Rylan did what he suggested, and the horse took three wide steps to the right.

The slight distance between her and Cole gave her a fresh dose of bravery. Whatever was going on between them needed to be voiced. She couldn’t go another night replaying it all in her mind, wondering what he really wanted from her and pondering just how much she was able to give. It was maddening.

“Cole, uh, about—”

“Any siblings work the farm with your dad?” The easy smile had slipped from his lips. Rylan rolled her eyes, figuring his time-to-come-clean sensor went off and prompted him to hedge.

“My dad is still on the farm, but the cows are long gone. He rents out the land now. I only have one brother, Robert, in Australia. He and his partner, Trey, are expecting a baby via surrogate anytime.”

He gave a little nod, his only response.

They cleared a small hill, and the glint of water came into view. A river snaked across the grassland, disappearing to the east while the mountain to the north swallowed it up.

“Come on.” Cole urged his horse to a trot. Rylan followed suit, going down the hill toward the water. Her breath caught when she spied the riverbank. Multicolored stones stretched along the banks just below the shallow surface. A palette of dusky red and pink, purple, blue, and green rocks twinkled in the sun. Cole reined up next to her, a half smile on his face. He looked pleased by her awe.

“Welcome to Paint River,” he said. Rylan followed him in a dismount. Cole knelt beside the river and splayed his hand over the surface. “Looks like someone painted rocks and threw them out there, huh?”

The colorful stones lay on the muddy banks and inched a few feet into the river, disappearing into the depths. Cole picked up a few stones and set them in his palm. They were smooth and flat, their colors faded somewhat once removed from the water. “This is the only river to have colored stones in this abundance. Been here for as long as anyone can remember.”

Rylan trailed her fingers over the stones, gracing Cole’s skin as she did. She realized he’d tracked the movements of her fingers, then watched her as she picked one up and turned it side to side. He dumped the rocks back in and stood, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“See that?” Cole indicated with his head toward an oak tree spread out among a small grouping of trees near a curve in the river. It had a twisted trunk and branches that arched and spread like arms stretched wide. Cole walked toward the tree, beckoning Rylan along. He dropped his horse’s reins and disappeared under the canopy. Curious, Rylan did the same. Inside, the tree made an umbrella of beautifully curved branches just high enough that they could walk under them.

She looked up, surprise making her momentarily speechless. Objects hung from the oak’s low branches. Strands of faded ribbon, a silver spoon, a tiny baby shoe. The little treasures hung down like a weathered, eccentric wind chime. There could easily be hundreds of small tidbits hanging from the tree.

Rylan traced the baby shoe with a fingertip. It was easily early 1900s, with cracking black leather and tiny pearl side buttons. She gave a disbelieving laugh. “What is this?”

Cole braced one hand on the tree trunk. “That would be a shoe.”

Rylan whipped him an amused smile. “This.” She swept her arms wide, nodding to the tree. Cole smiled teasingly and flicked a gray wooden pipe hanging from a strip of leather.

“It’s the Wishing Tree. Legend has it that you leave the tree a gift, and it grants you a wish.” His shoulder brushed her arm.

Rylan moved farther away, looking at the items in the branches. “Got anything to wish for, Cole?”

Cole smirked. “Nope. I don’t believe in shit like this. No sense in making wishes. If I want something, I grab it myself.”

Images of last night uncoiled in her mind. Yes, he certainly did.

“Some things aren’t tangible, though,” she said. “There are some things the universe takes care of for you.” She moved around the tree’s circumference, taken aback at the antiquity of some of the trinkets. Silverware, a small brass hairbrush with horsehair bristles, a gold wedding band. Rylan pulled the branch down to peer at the ring more closely. Inside, an engraving read “Cherished Wife.” The sheer magnitude of how many people must have crossed this land in the past became an exciting reality as she looked at what they’d left behind.

“That’s silly,” Cole replied. He was right behind her, his body heat rolling over her neck.

“Living intentionally isn’t dumb. If you want the universe to help you with something, you have to ask for it. You have to put it out there, make it known.” She looked over her shoulder. Cole’s face was doubtful. “Everyone who put something here believed in the power of making a wish.”

“How many do you think actually came true, Rylan?”

Her lower lip jutted out. “I don’t know. But I don’t think it hurts to try. Sometimes you just need help to get the things you want the most.”

She turned to face him at the same time he stepped closer. Dark hair spilled from beneath his hat when he cocked his head. His eyes found her lips, his own parting just a bit.

“What do you want the most, Rylan?”

“Mmm, personal question.” Shaking inside, Rylan gave a teasing frown. “I could ask you the same but I doubt I’d get an honest answer.”

Cole stepped in again, all humor gone from his face. The sudden intensity made her breasts ache. She retreated a step, her rear bumping into the tree, her palms down on the rough surface. Cole braced one hand over her shoulder on the trunk and leaned in close. Rylan’s lips tingled with his proximity.

“Are you sure you really want to know?” His chest rose and fell behind the snug gray cotton. Excitement and longing flooded her veins.

“Yes.”

His put his other hand against the tree, completely boxing her in. “What I want the most right damn now it to forget, for
one day
, that I’m your boss so I can make love to you with no regrets and no what-ifs.” Rylan’s breath left in a
whoosh
. She looped her hands around his hard biceps to keep steady as her legs suddenly felt unable to keep her standing. She knew he wanted her, but hearing him voice the confession drove it home.