Espino, Stacey - Her Cowboy Triple Team [Ride 'em Hard 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“She’s a nice girl.”

“She’s more than a nice girl. Kayla’s one of the smartest, most talented women I know. I’ve dedicated half my life to looking out for her, and I don’t plan to stop now that I’m a married man.”

Grant heard Clay’s subtle threat loud and clear.

His father spoke up. “You don’t have to worry about my boys. I raised them right, and they know how to treat a woman.”

“With a mother like mine, I wouldn’t dare try to disrespect one,” said Grant, ducking when his mom attempted to swat him. “Besides, I’m just being friendly. No harm in that.”

Clay wouldn’t let it rest. “Just remember she’s a good girl, not one of your buckle bunnies. She’s sensitive, delicate.”

“I was only thinking of her happiness. The poor girl has nothing to do but paint. Maybe I’ll invite her over on the weekend, show her how to brand a calf.”

“No, that wouldn’t work,” said Clay. “We’re having her to our place on Saturday. It’s her birthday and we’re throwing her a surprise dinner. Don’t be saying nothing.”

Grant put together two plates of food and then returned to the picnic table.
Kayla’s birthday?
Matthew had been right
.
How convenient when he wanted to make a good impression. He’d buy her something nice, take her out, anything to show her his intentions were honorable.

* * * *

“You don’t have to worry about Grant. He’s a good man, hard worker, too,” said Matthew.

“I’m not worried. From what I know of him, he’s very nice.”

“He’d be a good provider, that’s for certain.”

Why did he assume they were dating? This was the first time they were in public together, and he’d only driven her here. Of course she liked him and was devastatingly attracted to the cowboy, but it would never work. She was about to turn thirty and knew he had to be at least a couple years younger. Men wanted youthful women like Angel, not to mention men aged like fine wine while women just aged.

Grant came up behind him. “Did I hear correctly, Matthew? Damn, you like to embarrass me, don’t you? Why’d you go and tell her I’d be a good provider? The poor woman’s just out to have a nice dinner, not sign a marriage certificate.” Matthew shrugged and wandered off, nonchalant as usual. “Sorry about that, darlin’. I promise I never put him up to any of that nonsense.”

Grant set the heaping-full plates on the table. Tender, flaked pork, vegetable salads, homemade biscuits, and corn. The savory scents made her empty stomach rumble.

“He just cares. I think it’s nice that your brother only has nice things to say about you.”

“I suppose you’re right. He could have said a lot worse.”

They ate their food, enjoying the atmosphere, and shared occasional glances at each other. Grant talked about farming and family, everything but intimate details about himself. He may be trying to win her over, but how serious could he be when he didn’t give a piece of the real him? Who was the real Grant Garner?

Soon evening turned into twilight. Colored lanterns, strung around the party area, were turned on, lighting the area in a festive glow of orange, red, green, and yellow.

“They’re pretty,” she said.

“Matthew and I had a hell of a time stringing those up this morning.” He rose from his seat and stretched out his back. The man was lean and built for pleasure, but she had to keep her thoughts pure if she was to make it through the night. He reached for her hand and helped her to her feet. “You okay for taking a walk?”

“Sure.”

They moved away from the crowd, now thinner than it had been in the light of day. Where had the sun gone? They’d missed seeing the sunset. The moon was out, nearly full, accentuated by thin, drifting clouds. She had to stop and stare for a bit. These small miracles were what made life worth living.

“Is that something you’d like to paint?”

“It’s beautiful. I just wish I had the skill to capture it on paper. There’s no way I could do it justice.”

He wrapped his arm around her, which felt good because he was so warm and the evening air nippy. But the contact put her at odds with the different desires dancing inside her.

“You should paint it. If it’s anything like the pictures in your apartment, it’ll be great.”

“Maybe.”

“How’d you learn to do all that? Did you go to school for it?” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm to warm her skin, no doubt feeling her gooseflesh.

“It’s just something inside me, something I have to do. I’d love to study art at the university level, and I still may if I move back to the city.”

It was a dream she’d often contemplated. Life on the move left her little time to pursue her interests or a solid education. But did it even matter at her age? She’d be in the same class as teenagers and twenty-somethings. Her time for dreams was over. Now she had to cope with the weak foundation she’d created for herself. It wasn’t an easy task, but she was trying.

He turned her around to face him, holding her by the shoulders. His features were all shadows as they stood on the outskirts of the lit yard. The combination of the moon, the chorus of crickets drowning out every sound except their breathing, and the intensity in Grant’s eyes had her heart racing. She wanted to give in to the moment, fuck the consequences. It would feel so good to fall into his arms and let him sweep her off her feet, even if only for a night. But she’d pay the price when it was over, so she fought to keep her wits.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kayla. The city will eat you alive. The folk there aren’t good hearted like on the prairies. The worst man here is likely to be the nicest in the big smoke. Clay’s your only family and he’s here. Makes sense for you to start a life where you have some roots.”

“Grant, I don’t have much of a life here. I hate working at the feed store. My brother owns it so I still feel like I’m under his control. Not to mention it’s mindless and repetitive. I’ve never had the chance to get trained in anything else, not that there’re jobs here.”

“How about I show you the ropes on my ranch? I know Angel is one of the best cowgirls in the province, so it doesn’t matter that you’re a woman.”

Kayla felt lost. She didn’t want Clay to continue to support her. If only her art could pay the bills, but that was never going to happen. In a few days she’d be thirty, each year making it less and less likely she’d find a man to love her. Every faint line around her eyes and extra pound made her more and more aware of her mortality. Why did the calm of night have to bring out her despair? Every morning she felt refreshed, ready to handle anything life threw at her, but right now…she just wanted to curl in on herself.

“I’m not a cowgirl. I haven’t even ridden a horse since I was a teenager. There’s no way I’d be an asset to a rancher looking for a hired hand.” She was good at bookkeeping and art. Since her painting was unlikely to pay the bills, she may just have to land another desk job.

“That’s hard to believe when you have a brother like Clay. He traveled with the rodeo for years.”

She nodded, leaning slightly against Grant’s chest. “Him, not me. I was always left behind in hotels or rented barn lofts until we finally got a place of our own. By the time we moved here, I just wanted to be on my own, live by my own rules, you know?” It did feel good having her own apartment, being independent from her brother. But there was something missing, that natural desire to love and be loved.

“Sure. But there’ll come a time when you get tired of being alone. I promise you that. Even I know the sting of loneliness, and I’m surrounded by family, friends, and rarely have a free minute to think. It’s only natural to want companionship.”

Kayla could agree. Just the deep-seated need to melt against Grant and allow him to fend off the world was proof of that. But after going through a few less-than-stellar relationships she was leery of love, of men. “Wanting and finding are two different things. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’d rather be alone with my cat than settle for a man that only tolerates me.” She didn’t want to be someone’s second best or made to feel fat and unworthy. Kayla had been there and done that.

He held her head to his chest, stroking her hair, as they both looked off into the midnight masterpiece. “You’ve just got to open yourself up to the possibility. If you only expect losers, you may just miss a good thing when it comes along.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, feeling pleasantly drowsy.

Grant was comfortable to be around, as if she’d known him for years. It must be his cowboy charm, reminding her of her brother’s love. But her feelings for Grant were anything but wholesome. As much as she wanted him to behave, give her no doubts to his character, another part craved him to push the boundaries of a first date.

The distant echo of truck doors slamming shut continued for several minutes. In no time the drone of conversation had dissipated to a few quiet voices. Kayla wondered when Grant would offer to drive her back home. Had Clay, Landon, and Angel left for their ranch without even checking on her? As much as she knew she should ask Grant to bring her to her apartment, she didn’t want to leave yet. The cute, crazy cowboy who pestered her at work with his flirting was more than just a strong body and handsome face. He had character, and the passion she knew he had began to peek through.

They started to walk again, each footfall breaking the hush around them. When they reached one of the larger barns, the light was nearly choked out by all the shadows from the massive, looming structure.

“I had a good night,” he said, pinning her against the rough wooden wall of the barn. “I’m glad you came.”

“Well, you did kind of drag me out of my place by force.”

“True. But aren’t you glad I did?” An arm was braced on either side of her head. He bent his elbows, bringing him close enough that she could feel his breath.

“Your dad sure knows how to cook his pork.” She kept making light of an obviously intimate situation. It was dark, and they were secluded from any prying eyes. But she feared letting go because it made her vulnerable. If she gave herself to Grant, she’d set herself up for more heartache if he turned out to only be after one thing.

He inhaled at her neckline and breathed out in a near growl. “You smell sweet, baby doll. Good enough to eat.”

Her pussy instantly sparked to life, and moisture coated her folds within seconds of him speaking. Why was Grant’s voice, the squint of his eyes, or his devilish smirk so hotwired to her hormonal center?

“It’s my favorite perfume, lavender and vani—”

His warm lips kissed her exposed neck. “Hush,” he cooed.

She sank against the wooden barn boards, completely victim to Grant’s every move. Should she stop him? Her body said no, craving more, needing more. Her logic told her she was a grown woman and had nobody to answer to. If she wanted to fuck the hot cowboy against the side of a barn, then more power to her. God knew Grant wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell Clay, but even if he did, this was her life to live.

She decided to reciprocate the advance, smoothing her hands up his chest and over the wide expanse of his shoulders. Kayla liked what she felt, and she’d imagined it for countless nights. Her previous boyfriends were nothing in comparison. All her naughty thoughts from the past weeks added to her current arousal. Each time he’d show up at her office, butterflies would dance in her stomach. When he’d tease, she wouldn’t play along, acting like the professional, uninterested secretary she should be. Inside, she was a gooey mess of want and need, barely able to think straight. Now Grant was in her grasp, or she in his.

When his hand strayed down her back to cup her ass, she gasped. He used the opportunity of her parted lips to kiss her. His mouth was demanding, as if he’d been coiled tight all evening and finally had the chance to unwind.

“Grant…” she mumbled against his lips. How far were they going to take this? Should she even question anything when he made her body feel so deliciously wanton?

He began to unbutton and unzip her jeans while maintaining the hungry kiss. “Let me touch you, darlin’.” How could she say no to that gruff, sexy drawl?

He slid his hand down the front of her pants, inside her underwear. “Oh God!” she cried when two of his fingers curled into her pussy. She was so sexually deprived, and his touch felt so damn good.

“You’re wet, Kayla. Let me take your ache away.”

“Yes,” she murmured, eyes closed, inhibitions rapidly vanishing.

Grant pressed his body to hers, his erection digging into her stomach. He was hard for her, and she was ready to take him. Tonight she wouldn’t be Clay Roberts’s little sister or a middle-aged spinster. For one night she’d be Grant’s everything, allow him to transport her to that magical realm where nothing mattered but the moment.

“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since I first saw you at the office. You looked like an angel with your pink blouse and hair clipped back.”

She giggled, feeling lighthearted and desired. “How can you remember that?”

“You’d be surprised about the things you don’t know about me and how much I know about you. Like how you bite your lower lip when you’re being shy, shuffle things on your desk when you’re at a loss for words, and tuck your hair behind your ear when your body heats.” He slid his hands under her shirt, smoothing them up her sides. Grant’s exploring fingers were work roughened, scraping her sensitive flesh, bringing dormant cells to life.