Cowboy Heat (25 page)

It had been. He’d been so patient and thoughtful. He’d made sure she came before he finished.

He cleared his throat. “I, um…I’d really like to do that again sometime.” He stroked her hair. “Would you?”

“Yes.” Oh. Yes. The hell with her trepidation about cowboys. To hell with all the jerks of the past who’d tried so hard to ruin her faith. This guy was a keeper. No matter the risks.

“Excellent.” He kissed her. “Oh, and Delilah?”

“Yes Landon?”

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Angie what we did on her dining room table. Okay? She’d kill me.”

Delilah laughed and drew him down for another kiss. “Hmm. What will you do in exchange for my silence, cowboy?”

He grinned. Glorious dimples dented his cheeks. “I’m sure I can think of something…”

And he did.

Heaven help her, he did.

SHALL WE DANCE?

Myla Jackson

S
adie Lushbaum checked her odometer again before turning onto the gravel drive and passing beneath the arched rock and cedar gate with the words F
LYING
M R
ANCH
seared into the wood. The M had to stand for McAllister. She had to be in the right place. The directions had indicated fifteen miles outside of Hole in the Wall. The sun still burned bright, beginning its slow descent to the western horizon.

“This is your chance,” Audrey had assured her. “He’s willing to pay you as much as you make in the entire month for one night. One lousy night. I’d do it myself, but he broke my toe at his last lesson at the Ugly Stick Saloon. If I thought I’d be of any assistance, I’d drag my ass to his place and turn cartwheels all night. The man’s desperate. He promised a woman he’d dance with her at a wedding tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Sadie had asked. “He broke your toe at your last lesson, and you expect me to teach him how to waltz by tomorrow?”

“Honey, if you don’t do it, any one of the other girls at the saloon would give their left breast to take the job.
You
saw him. Joe McAllister might have two left feet, but he’s six feet six inches of gotta-love-me-some-smokin’-hot cowboy. I’m offering it to you because number one, you need the cash more than any of the others, and two, you have the patience of a saint. And I believe it might take a miracle to get him dance-worthy by tomorrow.”

Sadie’s heart warmed. That Audrey had that much faith in her ability to teach a hopeless man to dance said a lot. And to think, six months ago, Sadie had been resigned to the fact she’d never dance again. Funny how it took a divorce, losing her job and being flat broke to shake her out of the giant rut she’d lived in for the past ten years and get her finally chasing some of her own dreams.

“Oh, and Sadie…he’s a widower.”

Sadie frowned. “This isn’t an attempt at matchmaking, is it? I don’t need a man in my life. If you recall, the last one wasn’t so great.”

Audrey shrugged, a secretive smile playing on her lips. “Just sayin’. Not all men are cut out of the same cloth. You might get to give the vibrator a rest.”

Audrey’s words echoed in Sadie’s head as she wound along the driveway beneath gnarled oak trees, emerging into the open at the base of a low hill. Perched at the top of the rise was a beautiful white limestone and cedar ranch house with a wide, shaded porch surrounding the two-story structure.

She parked and climbed out, straightening the sweeping fabric of the calf-length dress that swirled around her body when she danced. Her knees shook, and her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs. Audrey had been right. Every girl who worked at the Ugly Stick had drooled over the handsome cowboy with the sexy smile and faded jeans. Sadie had been
no different. She’d watched him throughout his first painful couple of lessons and cringed when his big boot crunched down on Audrey’s poor toe.

After the ill-fated lesson, Sadie had gone home to her vibrator, imagining it to be Joe sliding his cock across her skin and teasing her clit into a mind-melting orgasm. A frustrating night and day later, here she was pulling up to his house. Holy shit, how was she going to look him in the eye after having imaginary sex with him, not once, but five times?

Sadie almost turned back, but she needed money for rent, and all she had in her refrigerator was a quart of sour milk and a hunk of moldy cheese. It was teach this man to dance or go home horny
and
hungry. The man had to know how to waltz to impress a woman tomorrow. Sadie couldn’t let him down, nor could she jump his bones. That would be wrong, wouldn’t it? The man wasn’t learning to dance to impress
her
.

She mounted the steps to the door. With her hand raised to knock, she paused, fighting a panic attack.

Before she could run, the door swung open and a man called out. “Joe, get your clothes on, you’ve got company!” The man pushed the screen open for her. “Hi, I’m Sam, and I’d sure love to stay and watch, but I have to go milk a bull.” Over his shoulder he yelled, “See ya tomorrow! And get it right this time, Joe. Mandy’s countin’ on you.”

Sadie stepped into the cool interior of the home, wowed by the two-story, cathedral ceilings with thick cedar beams and a stone fireplace stretching from floor to ceiling on one whole wall.

“Is it the dance instructor?” Joe stepped through a doorway, wearing nothing but jeans, unbuttoned at the top. A towel draped over his head, and droplets of water glistened over his broad, muscular chest. Flinging the towel back he looked up. “Oh, you’re here.”

Sadie pressed a hand to her chest, her mouth suddenly dry and her pulse racing.
Wow
.

Joe glanced down at his naked chest, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, I just got in from taking care of the horses and didn’t want to smell like one.” He looked up and winked.

Wow
. Sadie managed to stay upright on rubbery legs.

“Sadie, isn’t it?” His voice washed over her like warm wet sand, oozing into every pore.

She nodded.

He backed away. “I’ll slip into a shirt, and we can get started.”

“Don’t get dressed on my account,” she said in a gravelly whisper.

His smile broadened. “Just a shirt then. I’m not wearing my boots tonight. Hopefully you won’t limp away with a broken toe.” Joe disappeared and was back a moment later, his dark hair finger-combed back from his forehead. He pulled a chambray shirt over his shoulders and left the buttons loose.

Sadie feasted her gaze on his chiseled chest, her pussy tightening. When she realized she’d been staring, she dipped her head and pulled her music player and mini-portable speakers from her purse. “Shall—” she squeaked. Clearing her throat, she started again. “Shall we get started?”

He held out his hands. “I’m all yours. Teach me.”

Oh, boy
. For the first time since her divorce, Sadie had the wild and uncontrollable urge to throw herself at a man and beg him to make love to her. Barefoot and wearing his shirt untucked and unbuttoned down to his navel, he was the most gorgeous cowboy she’d met.

Sadie fumbled to untangle the electrical cord from the speaker wires, wondering how she’d get through this session without bursting into an orgasmic flame. “Audrey said you
need to waltz at an event tomorrow.”

“That’s right.” Big hands closed around hers, sending waves of lust shooting to her core. “Let me.” He removed the items from her hands, untangled them with swift efficiency and plugged them in. Then he stood back, tucking his thumbs into his back pockets. “I’m going for a beer, would you care for one, or a glass of wine?”

“A beer would be nice.” And maybe it would settle her nerves and make it easier to assume the role of teacher to this student. A thrill of challenge and something else slipped beneath her skin and rippled all the way through her body, pooling at her center.

Sadie flipped through the music, settling on a smooth, easy waltz, turning it up loud enough to be heard, but not so loud they couldn’t talk over it. Then she wandered across the living room to the kitchen, the rooms separated by a wide granite bar with stools lining the front.

Joe grabbed two longnecks from the refrigerator, twisted off the tops and set one on the bar. “Here’s to teaching this old dog new tricks.” He lifted his bottle and downed a third of it before he set it down.

Sadie tipped hers back and swallowed an equal portion, determined to shake off the edge. “You’re not old.”

“Going on forty-two.” He rounded the counter and stood in front of her. “And you’re what, twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven?” His finger rose to touch her cheek.

“Thirty-four.” Sadie blushed. “But thanks.”

“Good. I’d hate for my teacher to be young enough to be my daughter.” His face grew serious. “It’s real important to me to learn this dance. It’s a surprise for tomorrow.”

“Why did you wait so long for lessons?”

“Wish I could say I was too busy herdin’ cows, bailin’ hay
and muckin’ stalls.” He shrugged. “Truth is, I haven’t danced since my wife died.”

“Oh?” Sadie swallowed hard. “You must have loved her very much.”

“I did.” He gave her a gentle smile.

Sadie’s chest squeezed, and she glanced at her feet. What did she say to that?

“Life has a way of marchin’ on.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “That’s where you come in.”

Her heart fluttering, Sadie gulped. “Me?”

Joe straightened his shoulders. “As part of moving on, I promised myself that I’d learn to waltz for someone special. Problem is, I’ve got two left feet.”

The other problem was that Sadie lusted after a man who wanted to impress another woman. Even if she wanted another man in her life, that ruled out this particular cowboy.

Sadie dug deep for the strength to teach. With a forced smile, she kicked off her shoes. “Then let’s make this easy.” She lifted her beer. “Finish up. It might help you be more receptive to the beat.”

Together, they lifted their beers and downed them in several long gulps.

Sadie wiped her arm across her lips and then held out her hands. “Shall we?”

Joe, looking less at ease, let her guide one of his big hands to the small of her back, the other she held out and away from their bodies. He stood awkwardly away from her. “Like this?”

“It’s a start.” Sadie laid her hand on his shoulder. “Now close your eyes.”

He did as she said.

Without his piercing blue gaze reading her every expression, Sadie could study the man up close and her focus rested on full,
sensuous lips. “I’m going to sway to the beat. For now, stand there and feel how my body moves to the music.”

Sadie shifted her weight from one foot to the other in time with the song. “Can you feel it?”
She
sure was.

“Not really,” he admitted.

She moved his hands, placing them on her hips, her breath hitching as the warmth of his palms seared through her dress.

“That’s better.” His rich voice slid like warm honey over her body.

Sadie gulped.
Man, this was going to be tough
. “Sway with me,” she said, her voice husky with desire.

Joe’s stiff body jerked out of sync with the music. After a moment or two, he stopped and opened his eyes. “It doesn’t feel the same as when you do it. Can’t we skip right to the waltz? I have to be able to do that by tomorrow.”

Sadie shook her head. “You have to understand the rhythm before you can master the waltz.” She dropped her hands, and he dropped his as well. “Let’s try something different. When I was little, my daddy taught me to dance by letting me stand on his feet. I’d move to the beat because he did.”

Joe’s brows twisted. “Uh, I’m too big to dance on your feet, and we both know what happens when I do.”

Sadie laughed. “No, you won’t dance on my toes, but you need to be close enough to move with me.” She breathed deep and stepped closer, sliding her feet between his and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Now hug me.”

“That’s not hard to do.” He wrapped her in his arms. “You smell pretty.”

Sadie chuckled. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Then in a lust-choked voice she whispered, “Move with me.”

He started out slow and jerky.

Sadie’s hands moved to his ass. “Let me take the lead.” She
pressed him closer until their hips moved as one. “Dancing is as natural as walking, swimming, or—”

“Riding a horse?” he offered.

“Making love.” God, had she said that? Her heart raced and her body burned against his.

He pulled Sadie closer, the ridge beneath his fly more pronounced. “Makes more sense when you explain it like that.”

Nothing made sense about what she was doing. But it felt right.

Through the next two songs, Sadie held him close and let him move with her to the music’s rhythm. The more they swayed together, the more the soft rubbing of their bellies and chests increased, causing enough abrasion to ignite a raging inferno within her.

At the end of the second song, Sadie pushed away and pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I think you have it. Let’s get to work on the waltz.” This time when she assumed the correct position, with Joe’s warm hand, chastely in the middle of her back, she focused on the reason for her visit.

Joe needed to waltz by tomorrow.