Cowboy Secret (The Dalton Boys Book 4) (8 page)

“I came inside to get the grease off my hands. I don’t have time right now.” He stomped to the fridge, pulled out the pitcher of sweet tea and brought it to his lips.

“Disgusting.” She flapped the newspaper into a more orderly fold. Actually, it was hot as hell.

He breathed heavily after taking a thirty-second gulp, flashed her a grin then proceeded to scrub his hands.

Damn him. Even the way he lathered his knuckles was sexy. Somewhere in the bottom of a suitcase she had a vibrator. If she didn’t think the entire house would hear her using it, she’d break for the bedroom right now.

“When can we talk about this?”

“Tonight. I’ll get Momma to watch Owen.” When he twisted from the sink to spear her in his gaze, a dozen muscles she’d never seen before on any man rippled on his torso and back.

The dark throb between her legs wouldn’t go away anytime soon. As long as she shared this house with her ex, she would be in a constant state of need.

As he dried his hands with a kitchen towel, he leaned against the counter and watched her. The towel moving between each long finger was more erotic than it should be. She’d never wanted to be terrycloth so bad in her life.

She swallowed. “Okay, tonight.”

He tossed the towel onto the counter and dropped her a wink she felt to the tips of her toes. Everyplace in between turned to mush. “It’s a date, honey bun. After dinner.”

When he strode from the room, she was left looking at his backside, trying not to hope she’d get to be the dessert.

* * * * *

Beck swathed his hips in a towel, slicked his damp hair back with his hand and examined himself in the foggy mirror over the sink. He hadn’t shaved in the past two days and his momma would give him hell if he were going on a date. She’d raised them to believe a woman liked a clean-shaven man.

But Sabrina didn’t. She liked him scruffy. When he kissed her with a rough jaw, she turned into a wildcat.

Though he wouldn’t be kissing her tonight. This wasn’t a date—they were going out of earshot of his family to discuss the future of their son. And no way was Beck going to let Sabrina struggle to make her own way. As Owen’s mother, she deserved that much. Besides, Beck still cared about her.

He’d spent so long burning for her that the stabbing pain was easily brought to mind. He touched his chest where that hollow ache had been.

Then he turned away from the mirror and went out of the bathroom. Crossing the hall, he glanced into Sabrina’s open door. And stopped.

She lay curled on her side on the bed, spooning Owen, who was taking slow sucks from his bottle. The moment stamped itself on Beck’s heart, and if he lived to be a hundred, he’d always remember her this way—soft, beautiful, as sweet as pie. A good mom.

Beck crept into his room before she spotted him and took his time getting dressed. As he pulled on his dry boots, he glanced at the clock. This wasn’t a date but it sure as hell felt like it.

For long minutes he sat on the edge of his bed, hungering for the woman a few doors down. How would it feel to shelter her with his body, reach around her and place a hand on their sleepy son?

His throat was still tight when he heard her come out of her room. He hurried to his doorway. “He asleep?” he mouthed.

She nodded. “I put him in his bed.” They stole downstairs quietly. While Sabrina gave Momma instructions in case Owen woke, Beck got a “look” from his pa. Lowered eyebrows and the stink eye that warned him to behave himself with Sabrina and make things right.

Beck ducked his head and shifted from foot to foot, eager to be away.

Sabrina turned to him at last. “I’m ready.”

Placing a hand on her spine, he led her from the house. The sun was setting. Orange rays radiated over the lip of the land and the air felt a lot less oppressive this evening.

Sabrina headed toward his truck, but he pointed to the field. They walked in silence until the house looked like a toy from that distance.

“Where are we going?” she asked at last.

“Just ahead there’s a little copse of trees.” He tried like crazy to gather his thoughts but it was impossible with Sabrina so near. She wore jeans and boots and a top that outlined her figure. Her hair was pulled off her face, but his fingers itched to remove the tie and loosen all those curls. To see the Texas wind toss them around her face.

“I saw you putting Owen to sleep,” he said.

She glanced up at him in question. Of course she wouldn’t know what was going through his head when he’d seen them.

“You looked…” He pasted a hand to his shirt front. “You looked beautiful.”

“Beck—”

He turned and grasped her upper arms. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For wanting to kiss you. For not wanting to shave because I know you love my beard.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do this. I didn’t come for this.”

He let her go. “I know. Let’s sit and talk.” Up ahead a fat tree had fallen years ago. It made a perfect bench overlooking a piece of heaven. That’s why he never cut the tree up for firewood—when he found a lull in his life, he liked to come here and just look at the land.

He gestured to the log and she sat. Once he was settled beside her, he said, “This land will be mine someday.”

She tilted her face up to his, eyes like melted chocolate. “It’s lovely.”

“There’s a condition set on the land, though. I can’t have it until I have a wife to put on it. At this rate, it will be never.”

She tensed, hands twisting in her lap.

“When my parents gave us the terms, I was gung-ho to find a wife.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About six months before I met you.”

Something dark slid behind her eyes. She flattened her lips.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t even thinking of marriage with you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I know, I know. I was an ass. But you were so much fun to be around, I forgot to be serious sometimes.”

“All the time.”

“Fair enough. I know how you feel.”

Time ticked by with only the sound of insects and a far-off bird. All the cattle were grazing over the rise.

“Funny how I don’t care much about owning this land now.”

“You don’t?” Her voice held surprise.

He shook his head, almost sadly. “When you walked out of my life, I hated myself for it.”

“Beck.”

“Let me finish. I deserve my say.”

Biting her luscious lip, she nodded.

He continued, “Sabrina, I wronged you. I wasn’t the man you deserved, especially on that last day. I hated myself for a while, but I learned to live with it. After all, I wasn’t the same guy. But there was only one thing I couldn’t reconcile—I couldn’t bear.”

The wind teased her hair, freeing a tendril. It tumbled down to kiss her jaw. “What’s that?”

He met the big brown gaze he never thought he’d see again. “I couldn’t stand to think that I never crossed your mind, Sabrina. That I was nothing to you.”

Her eyelids fluttered. She closed her eyes and ten beats later, opened them. She gave a laugh, bitter yet sad. “I look at your face every day in our son.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know. But I simply can’t go down that path with you, Beck. You’re feeling all soft and fuzzy toward me because I’m here and I’m the mother of your son.”

Okay, he’d concede that. But there was more—like how he could barely keep his hands to himself when she was around and how his heart jumped each time he walked into the house, knowing she’d be there to greet him.

“You can’t put a ring on my finger because you want a deed.”

“Jesus, that’s what you think I meant?”

“I prefer not to.”

“I didn’t tell you about the land for that reason. I told you because I want you to know it’s no longer important to me. I don’t give a shit about ever living here. I just want to give you and Owen a stable life and someday he can have this land if he wants it.”

She stared at her hands. “I don’t want you to be alone forever because of us, Beck.”

“I choose it.” Suddenly he realized it was true. Not because he couldn’t find a woman willing to work around a stepson—but because he was still in love with Sabrina.

No way was he going to forget the family he could have had for another one.

He got off the log and paced. Damn, he hadn’t come up here to discuss his rioting thoughts about her and the life he should have built for them. He needed to give her what she wanted because he hadn’t before.

He stopped and faced her. “Tell me what you want. What you need.”

Her lips fell open with a puff of breath. His heart raced and he dropped to his knees before her. The need to put his hands on her was the strongest he’d ever felt. But she deserved to think without him manipulating her.

“I need a stable job in a career I love. I need a good place to raise our son. With a back yard for him to run.”

“Okay, tell me how I can get those things for you.” He clamped his hands into fists to keep from cradling her face and kissing those sweet, sinful lips.

“I need the space and time to get them on my own, Beck.”

“So you want me to stay out of your business and just provide food and shelter?”

When she nodded, something snapped inside him. His throat closed.

Stumbling to his feet, he took several steps away. Leaning his forearm on a tree, he stared out over the land Owen might someday work alongside his cousins.

* * * * *

Sabrina’s heartstrings had always been thin filaments of spun sugar, easily broken. But seeing Beck’s despondent pose made her want to cry. As she scrubbed her hands over her face to drive back her tears, she tried to reconcile that at least she’d been honest with him.

But she’d hurt him.

She got up and walked quietly to his side. When she touched his sleeve, he didn’t budge. Standing like stone, his face carved from granite. She had no idea how to make this work.

Though her body was taking a tantrum, urging her closer, she couldn’t listen. They were better off apart. She wanted him to remain near Owen but the only way to have that was if she got a job teaching in Vixen. Fat chance, when there wasn’t a position open and calling upon favors from the school board felt wrong.

“We still have some kinks to work out,” she said softly.

He nodded but didn’t move another muscle.

Except the flutter in his jaw. That was working overtime.

“We’ll figure it out. I know we will.” On impulse, she stood on tiptoe and gave him a peck on the cheek.

With a wild rumble in his throat, he grabbed her. Hauling her against his hard body, he slammed his mouth over hers. Need and passion, bubbling just under the surface for so many days, erupted like a volcano. She threw her arms around his neck and opened her mouth for his kiss.

He rocked his hips into hers, sending spikes of pleasure into her pussy. She pressed against his bulge, helpless against her body’s desires.

When he angled his head and kissed her senseless, she clung to him. Dizzy with the sensation of being in his arms and cherished just the way she’d needed all this time. And the things he’d said to her…

I couldn’t stand to think that I never crossed your mind.

She knocked off his hat and tangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair. He withdrew from the kiss and for a panting heartbeat their gazes locked.

He crushed her lips beneath his again and clasped his hands over her breasts. She cried out, nipples peaking with a raw ache. She arched into his touch, and he scraped kisses around her jaw to her throat. Her knees threatened to buckle as he kissed her neck and tweaked her nipples.

The wind rushed in her ears and her heart pounded. This was Beck at his finest—filled with passion. He knew just how to make her feel good.

But no, he couldn’t. This wasn’t right.

“Beck, stop.”

His lips continued to move down to her collarbones. “Let me suck your nipples. I need to taste you.”

Oh God. An invisible string between her nipples and pussy tugged tight. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to sensation. When he burrowed into her neckline and popped her breasts from her bra, her breaths came in sharp rasps.

The instant he clamped his lips around one bud, she cried out. Electricity zapped through her system. She needed more and more. With a hand on his nape, she drew him in. Each sucking pull of his mouth bent her mind. She ran her hands down his chest, over the speed bumps of his abs to his belt.

He lightly bit her nipple and she bucked. Then he turned to the other one, laving it with his tongue, around and around until she barely recalled her name.

She flicked open his belt and the top button of his jeans. Blindly she fumbled for the zipper but found a line of buttons. The desire to drop to her knees and open them with her teeth scorched. She wiggled restlessly.

“I want you so fucking bad,” he growled and lifted her so her breasts hovered around his face. Her nipples felt so swollen from his nibbles, about to pop.