Falling for Owen (29 page)

He rolled her over the bed and she ended up on top of him. She straddled his hips and rose above him on her hands, her hips grinding into his as he thrust up and deep. His mouth clamped on to her breast. His tongue swept over her hard nipple and he sucked hard. His hands gripped her hips, urging her to move with him. He dipped one hand between them, his finger circling the slick nub where they were joined. Her body tensed and tightened around him, and he thrust deep, spilling himself inside of her. The heat he’d built inside of her exploded. His hands gripped her thighs and squeezed as aftershocks rocked both their bodies. She collapsed on top of him, their breaths sawing in and out.

Owen wrapped his arms around her and held her tight to his chest. He buried his face in her neck and hair.

“Hey, honey, I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured him.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“I wish I believed that.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

C
LAIRE WORKED IN
the barn, feeding Bo and Luke, dumping the old water from their buckets and replacing it with fresh. She’d grown to love the horses, though she remained cautious around them. In her head, she called them “the two old coots.” They lumbered in and out of their stalls and to the pastures at their own pace. When Owen tried to get them to move faster, the crotchety pair stopped in their tracks until Owen stopped pulling on them. Watching him with them made her smile. He had such affection for them. They reminded him of the good times in his youth. Free. Wild. Riding the wind on their backs with Brody, escaping whatever hell their father had in store for them if they stayed home.

Finished brushing down Luke, she gave him a pat on the shoulder and rubbed behind his left ear the way he liked.

“All right, old man. You’re all set. Eat your lunch, and I’ll let you out into the pasture when I finish with your brother.”

She ducked under the rope at the stall entrance and went across the aisle to Bo’s stall. He stood in the entrance, watching her with Luke.

“Jealous, big guy? Don’t you worry. I’ll brush you down, too.”

Bo nickered and scuffed his foot in the straw. He leaned his head over the rope barricade and looked over at the cupboard next to his stall.

Claire smiled. “You’re so smart. Yes, I’ll get your favorite brush. Spoiled,” she told him, rubbing the white diamond on his forehead. She peeled a spearmint from the roll on the counter and handed it over to the eager horse.

She ducked under the rope and grabbed the huge blue bucket from the corner of the stall, hauling it out to the yard to dump the remaining water. She dragged the bucket back to Bo’s stall and drew the hose over. Bo nibbled at her hair while she filled it. He never actually ate or pulled it. Just played with the long strands.

Bucket full, she pushed on Bo’s side to get him to move out of her way. Easygoing and amicable most of the time, he stepped back so she could get his food bucket off the holder on the wall. She tossed in a flake of mixed grass and hay and a scoop of crushed oats just like she’d seen Owen do so many times over the last weeks. She hung the bucket back up, and Bo snorted his thanks and lumbered over for lunch.

Careful when moving around his backside, she didn’t see the rake and stepped on it. The handle shot up and cracked her in the face over her right eye. Instinct kicked in, and she grabbed the handle to keep it from hitting her again or falling to the ground where Bo could step on it and hurt himself. The horse shied at the quick movement and hit her on the side with his hip, sending her backward off balance. She hit her head on the stall wall and caught the outside of her shoulder on a nail, ripping her T-shirt and skin in a long line. Blood dripped down her arm, but she ignored it, trying to move with the rake in her hand and Bo stomping and shifting to see where she’d gone. Nervous, the horse huffed and stomped his front foot.

Adrenaline gave her the strength to stand up and move to the front of the stall. She jumped back a step when she saw someone standing in the entrance.

“Shannon? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Owen. I heard the ruckus and thought he was in here. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said automatically.

“You shouldn’t leave rakes lying around like that. Someone could get hurt.”

The thing is, Claire hadn’t used the rake. In fact, she didn’t know what it was doing in Bo’s stall. Owen was meticulous about the care and feeding of his horses. He’d never be so careless as to leave a rake on the floor in the stall. In fact, she hadn’t seen it in the straw when she watered and fed Bo. Maybe she was too distracted with the horses and her remaining trepidation around them, but she didn’t think so. Something seemed off. Owen didn’t normally use a rake to clean out the stall. He used some red fork thing with many tines to scoop and pitch the straw into the wheelbarrow.

“Your eye looks bad. It’s going to bruise. Did you break your brow bone?”

Claire raised a shaking hand to her face and felt the welt rising under her eyebrow. “No. I don’t think so. It stings and throbs, though.”

“I know.” Shannon touched her forehead and the fading bruise from Dale’s attack last weekend. The stitches were gone, but the small scar remained. Claire imagined the internal scars would never fade.

“Owen is up at the house on a call. One of his clients,” Claire explained. Shaken, she rambled and stopped herself. She set the rake outside the stall door and turned to check on Bo. He lazily ate his food, keeping watch on her after every bite. She went to him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. As much to reassure him everything was all right as to make herself do it and not be afraid of him. He’d done nothing wrong. She’d spooked him.

“I’ll come back and brush you in a little while.”

She needed a few minutes to gather her wits and tend to the wound on her shoulder. She ducked under the rope at the door and checked both ways down the aisle. Shannon had left to go up to the house. Of course. No sense waiting for Claire when she really wanted to see Owen.

Claire stepped out of the barn and into the bright sunshine. Only about twenty paces behind Shannon, the woman hustled up the porch steps and rapped on the front door. Owen answered with a confused look on his face. He looked past Shannon and caught her eye. Still talking on the phone, he held up a finger to Shannon to wait. It surprised Claire to see him step out of the house and close the door behind him. He stood on the porch with Shannon, but turned his back on her and finished his call.

By the time she reached the stairs, he said, “I’ll call you back, Tom. Something came up and I need a few minutes to deal with it.” The clipped tone made Shannon wince. Claire wondered at his annoyance, too.

“Oh my God, Claire. What happened to you, sweetheart?” Owen took her face in his hands and tilted her head so he could get a good look at her eye and forehead.

“Did you leave a rake in Bo’s stall?”

“Hell, no. Why, what happened?”

“I stepped on it and the handle whacked me in the head.”

“What the hell? Was it the pitchfork I use to clean the stalls? Maybe I . . . no, I put it away. I’m sure of it.”

“No, this was a metal rake.”

“The one for the pasture?”

“I guess.”

“What happened to your arm?” His fingers left her face to gently trace the cut and pull her shirt away from the wound. “That looks nasty.”

“It hurts. Bo got spooked and hit me. I stumbled and fell to the floor and hit my head and shoulder on the stall wall. A loose nail caught me. You need to hammer it back in or pull it out. You don’t want it to catch Bo’s leg.”

“You’re worried about my horse. Look at you, honey. Come inside, so I can get you some ice to put on that.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“How the hell did the rake end up in Bo’s stall? He could have been hurt.”

“I don’t know. All I did was feed him and Luke and give them new water.”

“You did all that?”

“Well, you were on the phone so long. I know how you hate to feed them late. They get so upset when you don’t make it down to the barn to see them on time.”

“Look at you, sweetheart, you’re becoming a real ranch hand.” He scanned her from her face down her white T-shirt and jeans to her feet. “You’re wearing my boots.”

She giggled and glanced down at her feet stuffed into his dark brown cowboy boots. The ones he wore to tend to the horses. “I didn’t want to get my shoes dirty, so I borrowed yours. I have to kind of shuffle to keep them on. You’ve got some big feet, cowboy.”

Owen smiled and for the first time acknowledged Shannon, standing next to them waiting. “What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised to see her.

“This place is amazing, Owen. I love the house and barn.”

“Thanks, but why are you here?”

“Um, well, I tried to call your office because I know the calls forward to your cell.”

“Yes, which is how my clients contact me in an emergency. So, what’s up?”

“Ah, could we discuss this in private.”

“Is this business or personal?”

Shannon gave Owen a brilliant smile. “I wish it were personal, but I need your help with a legal matter.”

“Is this about Dale?”

“In a way, but I’d rather discuss it privately.” Shannon glanced in Claire’s direction.

“Can’t this wait until business hours on Monday?”

“It’s important. I’m here. Won’t you help me?”

“I need to see to Claire’s head and arm first.”

“Honey, I’m fine,” she assured him.

“No, you aren’t. You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll go in and wash up.”

“If you feel dizzy, or . . .”

“Honey, I’m fine,” she said, placing her hand on his chest. He covered it with his and held her close with his other arm.

“You’re sure?”

“Help Shannon. I’ll see you inside when you’re done.”

“Brody called and invited us to dinner tonight.”

“Sounds great. What did the girls ask us to bring?”

He smiled and shook his head. “They want your double chocolate-chunk brownies.”

She laughed and some of the tension in his gut let loose.

“Of course they do. We’ll have to stop by my place to make them. I don’t think your pantry has everything I’ll need.”

“Check. You made the last batch here, so we may have everything.”

“I’ll check.” She walked right out of his boots at the door. He had to pry them off, but her little feet barely filled them. He couldn’t explain the thrill in his gut at seeing her wearing his things. He loved finding her in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but one of his T-shirts or dress shirts. She said she liked the smell of him. Well, he loved everything about her. He needed to tell her. Soon.

Things between them moved so fast. Why the hell was he waiting? It wasn’t some big secret she didn’t know. They’d skirted the subject several times. He knew she loved him. She knew he loved her. So why the hell didn’t they say it to each other?

Because then it would be real, and they’d have to deal with it. Well, he didn’t think it required any great change in his life. He’d tell her. She’d stay with him. They’d build a life together.

Shit. They’d build a life together, which meant they’d get married. Is that what he really wanted? Hell yes. He hated the nights they spent apart. The best thing in his life was going to bed with her in his arms and waking up to her smiling face in the morning. He didn’t want to lose that. He wanted it every day and night. As it was, she barely spent any time at her place. Half her stuff was still in boxes. All they had to do was move them here and unpack them.

“Owen, I’m waiting,” Shannon said, letting her impatience show in her eyes and frown.

Owen shook off his thoughts of joining his life with Claire’s. Well, his life was already tied to hers in a profound way if the sight of her bleeding made him this upset and angry. He’d like to know how that rake got in Bo’s stall, but pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Shannon now that Claire had escaped into the house.

“Can we go inside and talk?”

“Let’s take a seat on the porch.” He held out his hand to indicate she precede him down the porch to the two rocking chairs set up by the windows with a table between. Normally, he’d have offered a glass of iced tea to a guest, but this was business and he intended to keep it that way. Here, on the porch, and not in his house that he now shared with Claire.

Like a gentleman, he waited for Shannon to take her seat before he took his own. He set his cell phone on his thigh and settled back to listen to whatever she found so important she’d come all the way out here looking for him.

“Tell me what’s going on, Shannon.”

“I’m being evicted.” She dug out a folded stack of papers from her denim tote bag.

He took the papers and read through the first letter from her landlord and the attached lease Dale signed and renewed each year.

“You’ve got thirty days to vacate. The lease is up and it is within the landlord’s right to ask you to leave without renewing the lease.”