Second Round Cowboy (Second Chance Series) (12 page)

“I saw something in you that
you didn’t see in yourself. Yet you’ve grown into that person I knew was there all along. A beautiful, intelligent, talented woman.” He kissed her again. She opened her lips and he tasted her sweetness. He’d never get enough. He lifted his head. “Now I ask what you see in me?”

“I’ve always admired your freedom to love and enjoy life. Even when things were tough, you picked yourself up and moved on. When I’d worry, you help me see that I was only hurting myself. When I cried, you held me. When I ran away from home, you sheltered me in your bedroom. Do you remember the time I snuck out of my house because my mother and father were arguing and I knocked on your window? You brought me in, wrapped your blanket around
my shoulders and promised me that you’d never let anyone hurt me. Even at ten, you were heroic.”

“I let you down.”

“How can you say that? You lifted me up.” She swept her fingers through his hair.

“But how could I not realize how scared you were
about marrying me? Why couldn’t you tell me? How did I not know about the baby?” He splayed his palm across her stomach.

“You had gone through so much after losing your mom and dad within a short period of time. You were working the ranch and Justine was following down the wrong path with
Lilly’s father. We each were enveloped in our own emotions.” A sigh escaped her moist lips.

She had the look of a woman who needed plucked. He could do just that for her. “Would you
mind if I kiss parts of your body?”

“I think I’d complain if you didn’t.”

That was all that he wanted to hear. He gently laid her back onto the bed, admiring her beauty. “I could stare at you all night.”

“You
won’t make a girl wait will you?” she teased.

“I’m a
gentleman, sweetheart.” He stood up, took off his pants and lay down beside her.

“There’s something I’ve missed.” Her gaze twinkled.

“Is that right?”

She lifted herself up on hands and knees. “I’ll show you.”
She undid the button and unzipped his jeans, sliding them down his hips. He pushed them off with his foot, tossing them. She situated herself above him and slid her mouth around his cock. He thought he’d burst when she suckled his head at the back of her throat. “Sweetheart, this is one of those moments I don’t have much control.” He was heading over the edge, and as good as her mouth felt on his most sensitive spot, he wanted to be inside her.

He brought his hands to her shoulders and gently laid her back
onto the blanket. Her mouth was pink and her eyes were welcoming.

“Ju
st a second, love.” He pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand, grabbed a condom from the unused box and made haste in tearing open the package. Protected and ready, he slid his hips between her thighs. Her fingers dug into his back as he slowly penetrated her. “My God you’re on fire.”

“For you,” she whispered.

He tangled his hand through her silken hair and buried his face into the locks, inhaling the sweet scent. He could lose himself here…with her. Her legs came up around his hips and he gained deeper access to all of her. He paused, demanding his body to stay in control, but the throbbing of her wet muscles drove him over the brink.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LESLIE FLUTTERED HER lids and opened them. Sunlight streamed through the open window, but she didn’t want to move from the warmth…

Warmth?

She
inhaled and her lungs were rewarded with oxygen mingled with the manliest scent. And it belonged to the man who brought her passion. As she snuggled up closer to the wall of iron muscle, a sigh escaped her. Her head rested against his shoulder, her leg was thrown over his hips and her hand lay at his waist.

His
palm, splayed naturally across the small of her back, did wonders for her nether lips that responded with a quiver. She could go for another round with him and wondered if she was becoming a nymphomaniac. She chuckled at the thought.

He moaned deep in his chest and the husky sound lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.

She slowly crept her fingers to the crisp hair trail leading to pure bliss. He was hard and standing straight up. Another sound erupted from his throat.

Lifting he
r chin, he didn’t appear to be awake and she most certainly liked what she saw. He was as sexy asleep as he was awake. A layer of beard had grown overnight, and his hair was finger combed. The man was good to look at…and even better at other things.

Yup, she’d lost all bounds and had crossed over to a world of wanton sex
.

All
she could think about was his cock and skill—and she headed to a danger zone at a jet’s speed, and for heaven’s sake she couldn’t fight the sensation.

No denying,
laying underneath him, stretched and willing, wasn’t a bad place to spend a few days. She could think of far worse places. Better than hanging out on a ranch, hand inserted into a horse’s ass and giving a rectal exam. That was the only thing she’d had planned this weekend. Being here was also better than cooped up alone in her house flipping through the channels looking for a sappy drama to fulfill her needs for romance.

She sifted her fingers through her mass of hair, finding more knots than silken strands. It was
all worth the time she’d spend on combing it out.

Her
thought track ambled down to the newly energized parts of her body and the fast beating of her heart, which hadn’t slowed since smooth-talking, charming Stryker Mason strolled back into her lonely existence. He’d been her every desire…and damn, he still fit that definition. She wanted him more, though. This was no longer two childhood sweethearts finding their way through a relationship. This had blossomed into two adults taken over by a magnetism that grew instead of vanishing.

Without a committed relationship, where would they land?
Things could get sticky and the last thing she wanted was for Lilly to be stuck in the middle.

Lilly!

The little girl was sleeping down the hall. Was she awake yet? Catching her uncle in bed with the vet probably wouldn’t be a good impression on a young mind.

Hell, how could she not think of these things?

Carefully moving away from the hard male body, she slid to the edge of the mattress, dropped her feet to the floor, and quietly stood up, glancing over her shoulder for peering eyes. Nope! He was out of it. She must have worn him out.

She grabbed the first thing she came to
, which happened to be Stryker’s long sleeved button down. She hesitated, but remembered how she loved wearing his clothes back in the day. There was just something about donning a man’s clothes that she liked—the smell of his cologne, the larger fit.

Sliding on the ove
rsized shirt, she quickly buttoned it, tugged on her wrinkled jeans and crept toward the closed door. At the threshold, she turned and looked at the six-foot tall burly man. Toned from head to toe—a gift of years of working on a ranch—she guessed he could make every girl within a hundred miles swoon. So why hadn’t some farm girl come along and snagged him?

There
was a lot more to him than a hard, skilled body. He could make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to. He’d brought her flowers on every birthday, rode horses with her, cuddled with her and watched chick flicks when he’d wanted to see a thriller. He’d been the only one to ever treat her with such kindness.

She’d left, even when she’d had an amazing man.

Would he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself? Probably not.

Although she didn’t do things the right way by taking off without a word, she realized she couldn’t marry Stryker then. She was young and confused. Maybe in the end, she’d taken off without talking to him because she hadn’t been brave enough to end their relationship.

Slipping out into the hallway and closing the door
behind her, she tiptoed barefoot down the wood floor, stopping at the semi-open door to Lilly’s room and peered in. She was still in bed, spooned around a zebra pillow with her long blonde hair swept out over the bed. She looked like an angel and Leslie found an unfamiliar emotion filling her heart.

For the sake of the little
girl, Leslie needed to be careful. She had no clue what children needed. What did they eat? What did they like to play?

From her place in the hall, Leslie
glanced around the child’s space, looking at the toys—dolls, a small princess table with a tea set, many stuffed animals. Her clothes were still in a suitcase sitting on the floor.

Lilly rolled, scrubbed her eyes with her knuckles but stayed asleep.
Leslie started to back away when she saw the framed picture on the nightstand. Justine’s beautiful smile lit up the picture. She was holding a younger Lilly, probably about two, in her arms.

A tear fell to Leslie’s cheek
and she wiped it away. “Oh Justine, help me do what you expect from me. I want to help Lilly. I love her.” Met with silence, Leslie headed for the stairs.

Heavy-hearted, she made her way downstairs. A knock at the door made her jump. She glanced at the clock on the mantel.
Eight-thirty
…a little early for company. She waited, wondering if the visitor would leave. Another knock came. She feared Lilly would wake up.

Leslie opened the door, ready to chastise the relentless intruder, but the woman standing on the step
held a briefcase and carried a disgruntled expression that paused any word from Leslie.

“Excuse me. I’m Dorothy Berard.” When Leslie showed no sign of recognition, the other woman huffed. “The state worker. We have an appointment this morning.”

Leslie’s grip tightened on the knob. “I—well, aren’t we scheduled to meet Thursday?”

“I phoned Mr. Mason and told him the visit had been moved up to today. He must not
have checked his messages.” She stared down her nose at Leslie and every nerve ending in her body stood to attention. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Leslie Bakerfield.” Leslie stuck her hand out in greeting, which the other woman ignored. Leslie dropped her hand to her side.

“Can I come in?”

“Uhh…sure. I’m sorry.” Leslie
stepped aside. “Stryker and Lilly are still sleeping.”

Ms. Berard spun in a full circle, examining the foyer, before turning her attention back to Leslie. “He must have been up late.” The crisp tone could have frozen lava.

Leslie swallowed the truth. The other woman certainly didn’t want to hear what occurred between the sheets. Leslie stifled a chuckle. “I’ll go wake Stryker.” She started for the stairs.

“How about you and I talk first? I like to get to know my parents.
You and Mr. Mason are a couple I presume.”

There was no right answer so Leslie went with her instinct. “Yes, we are. We both will be raising Lilly.”

“Precisely why we need to talk.”

“Okay. Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea? Or a glass of water?”

“No thank you. Just a chat is all that I need.”

Leslie went
cold. This woman reminded her of her fifth grade teacher who walked around with a ruler, striking it against her palm. Leslie had been scared of the teacher, much like her feelings for Ms. Berard. “We can have a seat in the living room.”

They walked into the room and the other woman took a mome
nt to examine her surroundings—probably a habit of nature.

Leslie s
ituated herself on the couch, waiting patiently. After a few minutes, Ms. Berard joined her and flipped through her briefcase, pulling out a notepad and pen. “I met with Mr. Mason right after the reading of his sister’s will. My job is to ensure that the adolescent child, Lilly Mason will be taken care of. We must follow a process before we can finish the adoption. I realize from a previous interview that the deceased, Justine Mason, had named you and Mr. Mason the minor child’s godparents.” Ms. Berard clicked her pen several times. “You stated that you both will be raising the minor child, does that mean you both will be asking to adopt her?”

Leslie played with a loose thread on her shirt and moistened her dry lips. “Stryker and I haven’t discussed this.”

“This could be a bit awkward, especially since you’re not married. We would be concerned that things would get sticky for the child.”

“Awkward? I’m sure there have been other cases where guardians were not married.” Leslie clasped her hands tighter.

“Of course there have been other cases, but we want what’s best for the minor child.”

“The minor child’s name is Lilly and I assure you, Stryker and I want the same for her.” Leslie’s chest tightened. “We are here for her.
Of course this all happened sudden, and new for the both of us.”

One corner of the woman’s mo
uth twisted. “We hear this from all of the parents. We also realize being a parent takes more than just a desire. It’s a commitment that one can’t drop if it gets too heavy.”

Leslie sat up straighter. “You don’t know Stryker, do you? If you did then you’d already know that she is right where she belongs. Stryker loves her and he is committed, fully, to providing Lilly with everything she needs—love, nurturing, necessities. I understand that you’re doing your job, Ms. Berard, but it would seem like whomever “we” is that you keep referring to would want all of the children, in the same unfortunate circumstances, to have someone who loves them like Stryker loves Lilly.”