Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy? (16 page)

BOOK: Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?
7.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Her sister sighed. “I know. All right, I’ll let you go. There will be no crying or pity parties the next time I talk to you.”

“Good deal.” Ainsley put her phone away and rubbed the dog’s soft head. His ears perked up a minute later and he jumped off the bench, tearing off after something in the field. She barely made out the form of a rabbit running for its life. Compassion for the small animal made her rise to stop the charging canine, but soon both animals were out of sight. She stood, her gaze lingering on the shadows by the house. No large, masculine figure appeared. She kicked a small pebble and released a quick, short breath. She should return to the house, but she couldn’t deal with any more battles tonight. She would have all day to explain Edward to Riley on their date tomorrow.

*  *  *

Riley poked his head into the kitchen the next morning and Ainsley jumped up from the table before he said a word. She had run away from him last night. What was she hiding? He didn’t smile, didn’t look at her, only led her to his truck. She climbed in, still not speaking, and the silence dug into him like spurs. He slid into the driver’s seat and regarded the woman by his side. Dealing with Seth took longer than he’d wanted and when he returned to the parlor, its emptiness left a kick in his gut. He half expected her to balk at their date, like a wolf who knew it was caught. The vehicle bounced over the cattle guard and he pulled onto the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to see white surrounding his knuckles.

“Edward is trying to convince himself he’s in love with me.”

Her open features invited conversation so he pulled onto the side of the road and turned off the ignition. Indecision battled inside him. Last night showed him he had no claim to her. He might want her, and enjoyed spending time with her, but she’d be leaving and going back to her own life when this farce of a dating game was over. He had no right to expect or demand an explanation.

“He’s not, though.” She turned in her seat, her fingers picking at her nails. “He’s listened to everyone in my family tell him he is and started to believe it. I think those stupid flowers were his way of reminding me he still existed when he should really be sending them to my sister.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” If she was lying, like most women, he’d rather have her silence.

“The hell I don’t. You’ve been acting like a bee got under your big cowboy bonnet since last night.”

He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want her to know how much he really did. “I’ve got other things on my mind. I’ve been neglecting some ranch work to escort all you women around the state.” It wasn’t a lie. Seth and Molly and Steve and the rest of the hands were picking up his slack, but little things weren’t getting done because of his inability to do any actual work.

She put a hand on his arm. Warmth seeped into his cotton shirt and spread over his body. “Listen, Cowboy. I’ve been water rafting before. Why don’t we spend the day at the ranch? You can do what you need to do and I’ll tag along.”

It seemed a compromise, like she hadn’t told him everything. But though the idea of spending his day getting his hands dirty definitely had appeal, this was supposed to be her day. “That won’t be fun for you.”

“Why, Riley Pommer,” she said, strengthening her drawl. “If I’m to become a carefully selected market research-wedded wife, I’m going to need to know what goes on around here on a daily basis.” She batted her eyelashes and a white hot streak of lust shot right to his groin.

It had been a while since his body had called for someone as much as his did hers. Here was an opportunity to be with her, to get to know her, away from furtive corners and stolen glances. It didn’t mean a forever commitment, and she wanted to be with him, too. “Why don’t we spend the day at the ranch, but not working. There are some things I’d like to check, but then I’ll show you around.” There was another twenty minutes before the women got their mounts for the day. They could sneak into the kitchen and grab some lunch, get to the stables, and be gone before anyone saw them.

The trees provided a hiding spot for the truck and they slunk into the house. Pointing Ainsley to a soft cooler, he gathered food for their meal. Voices floated into the kitchen accompanied by thudding footsteps on the hardwood floor.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed their lunch and took her arm, then headed out the mud room. Before he got to the door, the handle turned. Ainsley froze, but he yanked the closet open, pushed her inside and got in behind her, closing the door before anyone could see them.

“So much for stealth,” she whispered.

Winter coats cushioned them, pillowing the cramped quarters and making movement difficult. Ainsley’s body heated the space between them, filling his senses with vanilla. Raw hunger cascaded over him and he shifted, intent on getting closer to her, to hold her against him and kiss her warm lips. Instead, he knocked into her stomach with the cooler of food.

She muffled her gasp of surprise. “Ouch.”

“Sorry.” He rested the cooler on the floor. His fingers ached with the need to feel her softness and they moved on their own. The closet door opened suddenly, sending sharp, blinding light into the darkness. When his vision cleared, Seth was grinning at them.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t on the list of planned activities,” his brother said. “Are you lost, Ry? Need some directions?”

“No. Go away.”

“I need the broom.”

Molly’s footsteps echoed from the kitchen. “Seth? What’s taking so long?”

“Not one word.” Riley fished the broom out from the back of the closet and shoved it at his brother, then closed the door as his sister entered the mud room.

Ainsley clasped a hand tightly to her mouth and a muffled snort escaped the barrier.

“Don’t you start.”

Her other hand joined the first, laughter threatening to erupt. If she gave away their location, he’d have to listen to lectures from Molly for the rest of the day. He wrapped his arms around her and buried her face in his chest, her hair tickling his chin. The press of her body against him made him curse the confines of the small room.

After a moment, her hands dropped from her mouth and gathered in his shirt. “I’m okay now,” she whispered.

She was more than okay. Holding her this close flamed the fire between them and this time he didn’t think before he captured her lips with his. He leaned against the wall and pulled her to him, her soft shape molding to his body. Her hands wound their way through his hair, holding him firmly in place and sending currents straight to his groin, until the door opened again and light fell over them. He bolted upright and shifted Ainsley behind him.

“Molly’s upstairs if you want to leave.” Seth held the door open while Riley lifted the cooler and took Ainsley by the hand. “And you owe me. Big time.”

They fled the mud room and crept to the barn to get the horses.

Cookie was there, and he helped Ainsley saddle Mystic while Riley prepared Westley. The foreman promised his silence for anyone who came searching for either of them, and they were on their way, with their picnic basket, blankets, and other supplies tied securely to their horses.

*  *  *

Freedom soared through Ainsley’s veins like a power surge through a wire, leaving her mother and Edward and any doubts about Charleston Blooms back at the barn. She followed Riley as he rode north, his muscles flexing with his every movement. Her overheated body longed to take him back to the closet. It was what
she
wanted, consequences of a one-night stand be damned.

They stopped at a pasture filled with grazing sheep and a couple of dogs watching over them. A cinnamon-colored mixed breed barked when they dismounted. Lambs stayed close to their mothers, their small bodies almost hidden among the other animals. Ainsley wanted to pet them; they looked so soft and inviting.

Riley whistled sharply and the dogs ran to him. He stroked the mixed breed’s head. “This is Lady. She’s in charge here. The other one’s Hash.”

Ainsley recognized Hash as her canine companion from last night. He sniffed her hand and she scratched behind his ears, watching as Riley took a tape measure out of his bag and headed toward the sheep. When they skirted away from him, he whistled again with a different cadence. Lady bounded forth and barked at the herd, guiding them around Riley. He caught up to one of the small animals and held it tight while he knelt beside it to measure a lock of its fleece. “When the lambs’ staples are long enough, we shear them.” He gave the animal’s head a quick rub before he released it and measured two more. “Not ready yet. We sell some fleece to a company that produces lanolin. Other fleece we sell for wool.”

“Why sheep?” She followed him back to the horses.

“A couple of decades ago the ranch was losing money. My folks decided to lure people with sheep instead of cattle drives. It’s an easier vacation than being on horseback twenty hours a day. We’re reinventing it again as a singles retreat.”

“I should be calling you Shepherd.” She flashed him a quick grin.

“Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned over so his warm breath caressed her ear. “But that brings to mind a scrawny boy playing the flute for an audience of ruminant mammals. I’m much manlier than that.”

She turned to meet his lips, but before she got there, Lady’s barking changed. He stepped away and peered off into the distance. “Get on Mystic. I thought everyone was going to be at the south pasture, but it looks like they’re coming here. Let’s go!”

Ainsley flung herself onto her horse and galloped after Riley, her body crying at the missed opportunity. They rode to a cabin idyllically placed with a small, calm stream in front. A long, steep mountain loomed immediately on the other side. A few aspens dotted the landscape and a big spruce provided the cabin with some shade. The sun shone brightly on the water, creating silver among the blue. Though they could wade in the stream, the other side met the mountains with very little shore in between. She inhaled, the crisp mountain air filling her lungs.

“That escarpment is why the ranch is called Crescent Ridge,” Riley said, pointing to the sharply rising land. She shielded her eyes to see a ridge with a definite crescent shape looming over them. “If we had turned right instead of going straight at the pine trees, we would be up there instead.”

“It’s lovely,” Ainsley said as she dismounted. He relieved the horses of their supplies before releasing them to graze, then headed toward the pine cabin with the cooler. “Can we eat outside instead?”

A slow, wicked grin danced across his lips, taunting her already-aware nerve endings and making her woozy. They spread the blankets between the cabin and the stream under the large spruce. Riley took out the food and her eyes were drawn to the grace of his solid body. They feasted on sandwiches and corn chips. Eating lunch became a study of concentration as she tried to focus on the sandwich and not the man in front of her.

“If my mother could see me now,” she said. “She hates anything outdoors. Anything where she might get dirty or ruin her manicure.”

“She doesn’t help you at your flower shop?” Riley popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth.

“She doesn’t help me with anything other than primping me up and parading me around eligible bachelors in order to stay relevent in high society.” She avoided looking at Riley as she shuffled through the remnants of their lunch to find a lid to one of the containers.

“Like Edward.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes away from Riley's face as she snapped the container closed, and waited for his reaction. Sometimes men became intimidated when they found out she came from money. It didn't matter that she never used any of it for herself.

When he didn’t say anything, she snuck a glance at him. Propped up on one elbow with his other arm stretched out over a bent knee, he looked sexy and smoldering and she really needed to get a hold of herself. He was studying her as if reconciling her mother’s expectations with Ainsley’s personality. “When you said earlier that your sister was supposed to be here, that was because of your mother?”

“Some of it.” She put another empty container together. She wanted to be honest, but didn’t know how much to reveal.

He watched her pack their lunch, amusement covering his face when she tried to pick up the blanket he was laying on. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up before we leave.”

“Who said we were leaving?” His rich timbre touched a place deep in her core, thrilling her and scaring her all at once.

“You want to stay here?”

“As long as you’re staying, too,” he said.

So he didn't care about her family's money. “Oh, good.” She kneeled on the blanket and leaned her back against his chest, enveloped by his warmth and comfort and a hint of what she could have. The lapping water provided a soundtrack for the hawks that soared overhead. His hand slid down her arm, giving her a jolt that went right between her legs. She gasped at the unexpected feelings coursing over her, through her, in her. Her arousal needed to be satisfied. Part of her screamed it was too soon, that she should get to know him more, but she’d known this was going to happen between them when he had slowed down his galloping horse on the way to fix the sink that first night. His lips trailed kisses along her cheek until they claimed hers. She turned into him, pressing herself against him while her hands found his muscular shoulders. He drew her down until they lay prone on the blanket, his body like granite beneath her. Her loose curls fell around his face and he moved his hands to hold them back. For a moment she thought he might speak, but his hazel eyes turned simmering gold with wanting and she lost herself in their depths. She tried to catch her breath, tried to slow her erratic pulse, but the onslaught of her awakened nerve-endings overwhelmed any rational thought. She kissed him again.

His hands caressed her back and lower onto her bottom, pressing her closely against him a moment before he rolled them over. Her hands roamed freely over his back, feeling the hard muscles strain under her fingers. He nuzzled at her ear. “You smell so good. Like sugar cookies.”

BOOK: Who Wants to Marry a Cowboy?
7.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Chasing Can Be Murder by June Whyte
Underwater by Brooke Moss
Revealed by April Zyon
She's Got Game by Veronica Chambers
Beneath the Blonde by Stella Duffy
Underdog by Euan Leckie
Child of the Dawn by Coleman, Clare;
Hollywood Hot Mess by Evie Claire