My True Cowboy (12 page)

Two steps brought her flush against his chest. “Next time?” For a moment, she was tempted to pull away. But then her body settled in against his and encouraged her brain to accept him so close to her, as well.

“Would that be so hard, do you think?” he asked. “Being together again?”

He was practically daring her to refute him. But of course she couldn't. Being around him was making her
feel alive again. Making her feel confident. She shook her head.

Just as she tried to come up with the right words to explain herself, his lips found hers.

And like the night before, his touch made her feel all languid and special. When their kisses deepened, she cuddled closer, enjoying the feel of her breasts against his chest. Cal Riddell was hard and strong everywhere she wasn't. And the contrasts between their bodies was so appealing, she ached to explore them further.

With a groan, Cal's hands found her hips, then one reached up and cupped her breast, his thumb grazing the peak.

She moaned in response, lifted her jaw so he could kiss her neck. And while he was doing that, she gave in to temptation and slid her hand down his hip, along the hard planes of his thigh.

And then, too soon, he pulled away.

“We've got to stop,” he said, his voice hoarse. “This kitchen isn't the place for what I want to do.”

She knew her eyes were wide as they met his.

“We should go out again—just the two of us—soon.”

There was only one answer. “Yes.”

“You'll find a babysitter? So we can be alone?”

“I'll try,” she said, sounding breathless. “If I find one, I'll let you know.”

Tension she didn't even know he had seemed to float from his body. “Thank you.”

When they both couldn't seem to stop staring at each other, she coughed. “You know what? I think I'll wash these dishes.”

“And I…I'm gonna go check on Ginny and Hank.” He turned away and exited before she had a chance to reply.

As Susan stuck her hands in the warm, sudsy water, she realized she could hardly wait to see him again.

“Susan, are you ever going to sit and talk with me again? Or were those sweet smiles you gave me the first day I was here all for show?”

Susan turned around, and met the piercing blue eyes of Calvin Riddell Sr. He was sitting at a card table behind her, alone for a change. When she raised her brows at his question, he had the gall to widen his eyes in an expression of pure innocence. “Mr. Riddell, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean, you sashay around this place chatting with everyone and anyone…except me. I don't know why.”

She hid a smile. She didn't think for a minute that he'd been lonesome for her company. In the space of only a few weeks, Mr. Riddell had become a rather popular man around the retirement home. At first, she'd thought it was because of his last name.

But as the days passed, she was learning that he was a favorite among all the residents because of his personality. People were drawn to him like flies to honey. He had a no-nonsense appeal to him that couldn't be ignored.

Kind of like his son.

“Well? Are you going to answer me, little lady?” he prodded.

Who else would call her that? “Don't call me little lady,” she retorted, just to get a rise out of him.

As she'd hoped, he scowled. “Gotta call you something.”

“Susan? Ms. Young?”

“I haven't called a pretty lady by her last name in years. I'm too old for that. Now tell me what you know.”

“About what?” she sassed. Even she was coming to find out that he was not a man who responded well to sweetness.

“Anything.” His lips twitched. “Tell me some gossip. What's the story with all the nurses? Who drives everyone crazy?”

“I don't gossip about people here.”

“You should. Or at least, you could make some up. You in the mood to lie to me for a little while?”

“I am. Well, I am until Mrs. Ventura comes in. We have a date to play cards.”

“That Rosa.” His eyes flashed. “She's a tough cookie.”

“She is.” As she moved to sit across from him, she looked him over more carefully. “So, truth now. How are you feeling?”

Grayish-blue eyes dimmed a bit. “Truth? Fair to middlin'. I've got less energy than a newborn calf.”

“That's to be expected, yes?”

“Probably.” He grunted. “But knowin' I'm not supposed to be a hundred percent doesn't make things any easier to take, you know?”

“I know.” Eager to see some spark back in his eyes, she asked, “You're not still giving the physical therapists a hard time, are you?”

His lips twitched before he adopted his trademark scowl. “What have you been hearing?”

“I've been hearing that your mouth could use a bar of soap.”

“Me?”

“You. I've also heard that you could teach sailors on leave a thing or two.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “Not everyone wants to be cussed at, Mr. Riddell.”

“Not everyone wants to be poked and prodded, either.” Steepling his hands in front of him, he said, “Enough of this. I didn't ask you over here to talk about me.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“My son.”

“Cal?”

“Of course Cal. It's not like you know my other boys.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or do you?”

“Of course I don't.”

“Then tell me what's going on with you and Junior.”

What had been happening between the two of them was confusing. And special. “There's not much to tell you. I hardly know Cal….”

“Now I think you're lying again. I think there might be.”

“And why is that?”

He winked. “'Cause one of those physical therapists who's been torturing me managed to sneak in a few words about you and Junior the other day.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said that you and my middle son went on a date the other night.”

“We went walking in town,” she clarified.

“That counts.” He waggled his brows. “Rumor has it that the two of you looked pretty chummy. That you were sparkin' under the twinkly lights of the town square.”

In spite of the fact that she was twenty-five years old, she felt her cheeks heat. “Chummy isn't much of a descriptor.”

“It's better than your descriptions. My Cal, he's a good man.”

“Are you trying to shoo me away? Or just the opposite?”

“If it was the opposite, it would mean that I approved of you.”

The wish that slammed into her scared her half to death. “Do you?”

“Do you need me to?”

“Truth?”

“Of course.”

She felt as though they were participating in the verbal equivalent of a chess game. With a sinking feeling, she told the truth. “Yes,” she whispered. Then waited.

Laugh lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “If Junior had to pick a woman to start seeing, and he really thought he needed a woman who was real sassy, and who already had a son, and who actually liked hanging out with old farts all day long…then I guess I'd say you'd do.”

“We're not serious, you know.”

To her surprise, Calvin chuckled. “Of course y'all are. Cal doesn't do anything
not
serious. Don't you know that by now? What's more, I'm getting the feeling that you don't, either.”

“I haven't had any other choice but to take things seriously.”

“Nothing wrong with responsibility, Susan. Sometimes I think there's some people who naturally lean toward being stressed out and carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

“Is that how you were?”

“Nah. I tried to be a rodeo star, but I never had the seat for it. For some reason, I got lucky with my oil find.”

She couldn't help but smile at that. “Some would call your oil find a pretty big deal.”

“Oh, it was that. But becoming rich at thirty-seven was a difficult thing, let me tell you.”

“Rumor has it that you didn't do bad with your find. Gossips have told me you invested it wisely. Doubled your worth.”

He scowled. “You sure know a lot for a woman who hates to gossip.”

“I didn't say I didn't know how to gossip. I just didn't want to gossip with you.”

With an exaggerated wince, Mr. Riddell pressed his hands to his chest. “You're wounding me.”

She laughed. “Hopefully not so much. I do like hearing about your successes, though.”

Turning wistful, he murmured, “I had a wife and three boys. All of us had a heap of dreams that could suddenly be fulfilled. If that don't humble a person, I don't know what does.”

She was about to speak again—about nothing important, she supposed—when a churlish cough erupted behind her. “Ms. Young. Mr. Riddell needs to return to his room. It's time to check his vitals.”

“You almost make that sound dirty, Yvonne.”

A put-upon, resigned look entered the nurse's aide's eyes. “Mr. Riddell, are you ever going to behave?”

“I hope not,” he murmured. “Come on, then.” As he started walking, he gave Susan a little wave. “I'll be seeing you. Tell that boy to take you to the ranch.”

“We went on Sunday.”

“Have fun?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Riddell, I'm waiting.”

“Yvonne?” Susan called out.

The aide stilled. “Yes?”

“Please remember to speak to our guests with a bit more care.”

A new awareness flickered in the aide's light gold eyes. “I will, Ms. Young.”

As they continued, Susan heard Calvin chuckle. “Now, Yvonne, if you'd only smile more, the world would be your oyster.”

“Yes, sir.”

Susan stood for a moment, watching them walk off together. She felt better about the aide's demeanor when she noticed the woman observe Mr. Riddell's ease of movement and color. Even to Susan's eye, it was obvious that she was concerned about his welfare.

She was about to return to her office, when Rosa Ventura slowly rolled forward in her wheelchair. “Susan, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I had a phone call I had to take.”

“It's all right. I was visiting with Mr. Riddell until Yvonne came and took him away.”

Rosa laughed. “Poor Calvin. That Yvonne is as thorny as they come.”

“I'm beginning to realize that,” Susan said.

“He's okay, Susan. Don't worry.” With a wink, she added, “Actually, Calvin and I have been talking quite a bit lately.”

“Is that the reason for your improved spirits?”

“Maybe,” she said coyly. “It's nice to have something to look forward to. For a while there, all I could seem to do was think about things in my past. That will getcha every time.”

Rosa's words hit her hard. She was exactly right. Susan felt as if her mood, too, had improved when she and Hank
had started seeing Cal. “Mrs. Ventura, are you ready for cards?”

“I am. Are you ready to lose?”

Jarred looked entirely too relaxed and smug beside Cal as they drove over to the north barn at daybreak.

“I've got to tell you, Junior, going to Cancún was a great idea. I told Serena that we ought to go there on our honeymoon, too.”

Irritated with his brother's exuberance, Cal pushed the gas with a little too much gumption. The old Chevy retaliated by groaning and jumping over a rut.

Jarred grabbed his armrest. “Junior, what the heck? Take it easy now.”

“Sorry.” Trying to calm his voice, Cal said, “Honeymoon?”

“Yeah, that's what I said.” His brother's perpetually amused expression turned serious. “I asked her to marry me. She said yes.”

“Congratulations.” Cal frowned as he heard his voice. It sounded choked, as if he could barely force the words out.

“You okay with that?”

“Why would you even ask? Serena's a wonderful woman.”

“I know. But you don't seem all that happy about my news.”

“I am,” Cal replied. “Besides, it doesn't matter all that
much whether I am or not. You're the one talking marriage. Not me.” Of course, he'd been thinking about it.

“But you're affected.” Jarred frowned. “I thought you liked Seri.”

“I do. She's great. Of course she's great.”

“You still haven't answered my question.”

“I'm fine with that. Of course I'm fine.”

“Junior, it may just be me being stupid, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you are being too agreeable.”

“You're right. You are being stupid.” Mentally, Cal called himself ten times the fool. His brother needed his support, not his whining. “Hell, Jarred, we all knew you and Serena were friends for years. The two of you make a great couple.”

Jarred's shoulders relaxed. “I thought so, too. I think we make a real good one. She makes me happy. She makes me happy in a way that I hadn't dreamed possible. In Mexico, we walked on the beach, and even went to some of those tourist spots.” His eyes grew wider. “Shoot, we did all kinds of stuff I never thought I'd ever do.” He shook his head in wonder. “We went parasailing.”

“You hate all that tourist stuff.”

“I do…but it was fun, seeing things through her eyes.”

“You deserve her.”

“Thanks.” Leaning forward, he turned businesslike. “So, how is everything? I know I've left you in the lurch, what with Dad in rehab, Trent in the hospital and Ginny being as six as ever. What do you need me to take care of?”

What didn't he need help with? “How much time do you have? An hour to spare?”

His brother bristled. “Don't talk to me like that. You know I've done my part for years.”

Cal knew that. Of course, he'd felt as if he'd been doing
his part and then some for just about that long. “Sorry. Dad being at the Lodge has really set me off.”

“Because of his heart? I thought the doctors said he was going to be okay.” Jarred's voice deepened, illustrating how worried he was.

“He is. It's different now, you know? It's like I finally realized that Dad isn't invincible.”

“I had that same realization a few months ago. It sucks, don't it?”

“Yeah.” What he didn't say—what was really bothering him—was that everything was changing, sometimes too fast. And he, the guy who liked to keep everything in control, was having a difficult time keeping up with it all.

“Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take over things for a few days. You give yourself a break.”

“And do what? Take off to Cancún?”

“If you want. Or, at the very least, you could get out of here for an afternoon or night. Do something fun.”

Fun? “I forgot what that's like.”

“That's your problem, Junior,” Jarred said with an exaggerated shake of his head. “If you have to be reminded about what fun is, then you definitely need to get out more often.”

Cal nodded, but his head was spinning. Because there was only one person he wanted to be with and that was Susan. “Have I told you that I'm glad you're back?”

Jarred flashed his trademark smile. “Now you have. Thanks for that. For the record, I'm glad to be home.”

 

S
USAN HADN'T SEEN
B
ETSY
too much over the past few days. Even though they'd patched things up, she wasn't sure if they were back on solid ground again.

She'd been busy with work, though, and so hadn't worried about it too much. It was only late at night, when Hank
was asleep and her body was exhausted but her mind wide awake, that Susan yearned for their girl talks. Watching
Law & Order
didn't give her the same degree of satisfaction.

Two nights ago, she'd called Betsy, just to see if she wanted to stop by, but her friend hadn't been home. She'd decided not to leave a message.

But now, as she saw Betsy's distinctive red hair through the glass door, Susan couldn't have been happier.

“Hey. Want a glass of wine?”

“Not tonight. I'm just sipping tea.”

“Are you sick?”

Betsy sighed. “Maybe. I don't know.” Looking almost disgruntled, she whispered, “Susan, I think I might be lovesick, if you want to know the truth.”

Betsy looked so distraught, it was comical. But Susan did her best to fight off a smile. “How's Gene?”

“Great. Last night we went out for ice cream. Two nights ago, we had dinner with his sister and her husband.”

Susan couldn't resist teasing her. “Uh-oh. If you're meeting relatives, things might be getting serious.”

“Oh, they are.” She shook her head in wonder. “He kisses like a dream, too. Who would have thought?”

Susan couldn't help it, she sighed. Whenever she let herself, her mind drifted back to Cal and the kisses they'd shared on their walk. Those kisses had been dreamlike, too.

As if reading her mind, Betsy said, “Actually, I came over to talk about you, not me. How are things going with you and Cal Riddell?”

“Pretty good. We went out to the ranch the other day. And I've been seeing him every now and then at the Lodge.”

“And?”

“And we have a date scheduled for Saturday night.”

“There you go. Maybe y'all are heading toward love, too.”

“I'm not sure about that. Not too long ago, I could hardly stand to be in the same building as him.”

Betsy's eyes crinkled over the rim of the mug she was sipping. “But then, things changed….”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, like I said before, y'all sure looked cozy at Bob's. There's something right between you two.”

“We do have an attraction, I can't deny that.”

“All relationships start there, don't you think?”

“Maybe. I'm not sure.”

“Susan, what's wrong? If Cal Riddell liked me, I wouldn't let him out of my sight! Honey, if you had him, you could be set for life.”

She didn't like the direction the conversation was taking. And she liked even less the sly, niggling thought in the back of her mind that agreed with Betsy.

If, for some crazy reason, she and Cal did go heading down the aisle, she
would
be set for life. And even more important, Hank would be.

But at what cost?

“I don't want to think about Cal that way.” Because, well, sometimes she did.

“Susan—”

“No, when you talk about all his money, it makes me feel dirty, like I'm using him.”

“We know you're not. But you'd be naive not to consider how his money could change your life. You have a boy to support.”

“That doesn't matter to me.”

Betsy looked her over as she stood up. “You know, once upon a time—oh, about three weeks ago—I would have
called you crazy. Now, though, I'm beginning to think you've been right all along. I like Gene. I like going to his family's house and having dinner. And watching football next to him on the couch.” She blinked. “None of that costs much at all. I'm suddenly deciding it's not a secure future I should be thinking about, it's a happy today.”

Susan smiled weakly. Betsy was right. Having good days did count for a lot.

Maybe even more than worrying about past mistakes or problematic futures.

“I'm glad you came over, Betsy. I really am.”

“I am, too. Take care now.”

When she was alone again, Susan couldn't help but let her mind wander to the possibilities of taking the security that a rich man offered.

Surely she'd like Cal even if he didn't have the ranch and the money and the connections, right?

Surely those attributes didn't even factor into her change of heart with him…did they?