Must Love Cowboys (15 page)

“You said that about the apple pie,” Nick reminded him. “Can't have it both ways.”

“I sure as hell can,” Bull argued. “That pie was the best until now. I'm guessing that fuckin' cobbler will be next.”

“Maybe you just need to be more specific,” I suggested. “You know…the best pie or the best salad rather than the best
thing
.”

“Good point,” Bull said with a nod. “I'll do that.”

I thought the atmosphere would lighten up some after that, but it didn't. If anything, the guys seemed even more morose.

“You guys are awfully quiet this evening. Anything wrong?” Dean's silence was easily explained. It was the others who had me stumped. Even Dusty and Mr. Kincaid weren't saying much, and I was pretty sure they didn't know anything about the shifting interpersonal relationships.

“No,” Nick replied. “Everything's fine.”

“Fences intact, cows all accounted for?”

He helped himself to more potato salad. “No problems. Just another day on the Circle Bar K.”

“Oh. Okay.” I'd had a pretty uneventful day myself before Wyatt showed up. Things got a lot more interesting after that.

The subject seemed to be closed until Joe—who, being the exact opposite of Bull, rarely said anything at all—spoke up. “We, um, kinda like having you around, Tina.”

“I see,” I said with a slow, dubious nod. “And that explains all the gloomy faces?”

“Well, yeah,” Sonny said. “We sorta hoped you'd stay on even after Calvin came home.”

“I already said I would. I'm sure Calvin won't feel like doing much for a few weeks.”

Sonny shook his head. “We meant forever. But if you aren't gonna marry Dean, I guess there's no reason for you to stick around.”

Despite being rendered momentarily speechless, I was about to protest that those two outcomes weren't mutually exclusive when Nick added, “Unless she marries Wyatt.”

This time I
really
didn't know what to say.

Fortunately, Bull filled in the gap in the conversation. “No need for her to marry anyone. I mean, since when does our cook have to be married?”

“Well,” Mr. Kincaid began, “seein' as how we've never had a female cook before, her bein' married couldn't hurt.”

If I'd taken on a permanent position, I could understand that—up to a point. But for a temporary job, I couldn't see that it mattered. “Yeah, well, I'm
not
married, and I don't plan to be anytime soon.” I couldn't even imagine a shotgun wedding being appropriate in this situation. No doubt my father would be pleased if I decided to marry, but he certainly wouldn't force the issue by brandishing a twelve gauge. Dean and I hadn't done anything the average teenager wouldn't do, and probably less than that. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Hey, you're the one who fussed at us for being too quiet,” Nick said. “We're just spicing up the conversation.”

I put up a hand. “Sorry I said anything. From now on, I'll keep my mouth shut and enjoy the silence.” I'd had plenty of practice doing both of those things—as opposed to only three days worth of making small talk with a bunch of cowboys.

Now I was stuck sitting at the table with them when all I really wanted to do was disappear—preferably through the floor. Unwilling to risk making eye contact with anyone, Dean and Wyatt in particular, I stared at my plate.

I'd only been there for three days and they were ready to marry me off? How weird was that? On the one hand, I should be thanking my lucky stars. On the other, I ought to be running for my life.

Or getting drunk. Maybe that was my problem. I didn't drink enough. Didn't loosen up enough.

No. That wasn't true. Comparatively speaking, I'd loosened up quite a bit, despite not having actually done the deed with a sexy cowboy. Then again, there was plenty of alcohol on hand. I'd seen beer in the fridge and tequila in the pantry—along with a bottle of rum that was dusty enough to have been hidden away in there for a very long time. Who knew what might have happened if I'd taken a shot or two for courage?

“Can I have some cobbler now?” Bull sounded almost meek.

“Sure. Help yourself.” I rose from the table. “I'm kinda tired. Would you guys mind cleaning up?”

They all looked at me like I'd sprouted antlers. I'd forgotten that the dishwashing rotation was part of their routine.

“Sure,” Joe said. “No problem.”

Muttering my thanks, I beat a hasty retreat.

No matter who came knocking on my door that night—and I doubted anyone would—I was
not
letting him in.

* * *

But Ophelia needed to go out.

I wasn't the slightest bit sleepy, despite having taken a long, hot shower and reading nearly a third of the book I'd downloaded. Figuring a bit of exercise and fresh air couldn't hurt, I donned a jacket and went with her.

We didn't go far. The moon was so bright I could easily have found my way even without the security light mounted above the barn door. Ophelia trotted alongside me as I crossed the stable yard, the loose gravel crunching beneath my shoes. She was sniffing around the edge of the chicken pen when I glanced up at the open hillside.

A beam of light caught my eye. At least I thought that's what it was. It disappeared so quickly, I wasn't even sure I'd seen it.

“That's your imagination, Tina.” Nonetheless, with all the fence cutting troubles, not to mention the movement I thought I'd seen there earlier that day, I figured I ought to tell someone.

Great.
Now I had to stick my nose in the bunkhouse and wake everybody up.

Wake was right. I hadn't realized how late it was. The bunkhouse windows were dark, and another security light was all that shone from the main house.

Goose bumps prickled my nape, and I glanced over my shoulder more than once as I hurried inside, half expecting someone to pounce on me from behind. Entering through the kitchen, I passed through to the mess hall, my footsteps echoing loudly in the empty room. The door to the men's sleeping quarters stood open. I tiptoed closer and peered inside.

“Hey,” I stage-whispered. “Anyone awake?”

“Yeah.” Bedsprings creaked somewhere in darkness, and a tall figure loomed against the moonlit windows. “What's up?”

Of course it had to be Wyatt. It couldn't possibly have been Joe or Bull or anyone else.

When he stepped into the mess hall, my breath caught in my throat. I'd seen him in a T-shirt and briefs before—and make no mistake, it was an impressive sight even then—but that was before I'd gotten a taste of his heart-stopping kisses and massaged those broad, muscular shoulders.

The deep breath I took to settle my nerves didn't completely eliminate the tremor in my voice. “I just went out with Ophelia, and I'm pretty sure I saw a light up on the hill. Might be your fence-cutting friend.”

“Show me where.”

He caught my arm as I started toward the kitchen.

“Not that way,” he whispered. “Through the window.” He gestured toward the south side of the mess hall, then put a finger to his lips.

Understanding the need for stealth, I slipped off my shoes, and we crept silently across the room. The warm pressure of his hand on the small of my back made me acutely aware that I was alone in the dark with a man clad only in his underwear—a man who'd kissed me senseless only hours before.

Keep breathing, Tina.

When we reached the window, I stood at an angle to the pane, pointing toward the east. “There. Near the top of that hill.”

“Hmm… No fences up there, but following that ridge is the quickest way to the road on foot.”

“I thought I saw something moving up there this afternoon. I couldn't tell what it was, though.”

He nodded. “Anyone wanting to keep an eye on the place could see a helluva lot from up there.”

“Yes, but why? I mean, I can understand why someone might want to watch what's going on during the day, but what is there to see at night?”

“That's what we need to find out.”

I stared up at him, aghast. “You're not going out there alone, are you?”

“Why? Would that worry you?”

His inflection suggested he either found that idea amusing or it pleased him. I wasn't sure which, but I saw no reason to deny my concern.

“Of course it would.” I started to add that I didn't think it was safe for anyone to go out alone, but his grin stopped me.

“Yeah, well, I did say
we
.”

My cheeks tingled with warmth, making me glad neither of us had turned on a light. “Yes, you did.”

He tipped my head back with a finger beneath my chin. “Be right back.” Though brief, the kiss was astonishingly sensuous, setting off a full-body blush and a telltale ache at the apex of my thighs. “Keep a lookout for anything suspicious.”

He'd been gone several moments before I convinced myself that continued surveillance was indeed vitally important—far more so than contemplating stolen kisses in the dark. Turning back toward the window, I gazed out into the distance.

Wyatt returned with Nick a few minutes later, both of them carrying their boots. “Seen anything?”

“No,” I replied. “How are you going to get out of here without anyone seeing
you
?” To be perfectly honest, what he'd said about what could be seen from that hilltop kinda had me spooked—especially if whoever was up there had a rifle equipped with a night-vision scope.

“We'll go out through Calvin's quarters,” Wyatt said with a nod in that direction. “His room has the same sort of exterior door that yours does, only his lets out toward the pasture. We'll circle around the outbuildings and head up the hill farther to the north.”

My eyes widened as I noted that our potential sniper wouldn't be the only one armed. Each man wore a holster slung low on his hip, the pale moonlight casting a gleam on a pair of pistols that wouldn't have been out of place at the OK Corral.

I was pretty sure Wyatt Earp had survived that fight. Whether Wyatt McCabe would come back alive was less certain.

Get a grip, Tina. This isn't the Wild West.

Wyatt must've caught my wide-eyed stare. He patted the holster. “In case we run into any rattlers.”

I couldn't decide which was worse, a sniper or a snake. “Gee, thanks, Wyatt. That makes me feel
so
much better.”

Nick chuckled. “Don't worry, Tina. He's a pretty good shot—and I'm better than he is.”

I glanced at Wyatt for confirmation.

“Sometimes,” he conceded. “But not tonight.”

While I had no clue what he meant by that, I suspected the explanation would be lengthy, and time was something we couldn't afford to waste. “You guys be careful.”

“We will,” Wyatt said. “Mind keeping watch 'til we get back?”

As if I would do anything else. “Sure.”

The two men barely made a sound as they disappeared through the doorway. Ophelia whined and started to follow them. I grabbed her collar and held on until I heard the soft click of the outer door closing.

“No way, Lia.” On any other occasion, I might have let her go, but not now. Not when stealth was required.

I carried one of the dining room chairs over to the window and sat down to watch. Ophelia curled up at my feet and began snoring almost immediately. Given the edgy state of my nerves, I never expected to get sleepy, but after a bit, I had to lean against the wall to keep from falling out of the chair.

A hand on my shoulder woke me with a yelp. “Warn me next time, will you?”

“I did,” Wyatt said, chuckling. “Fired warning shots and everything.”

“Oh, you did not.” I rose from the chair, rubbing my right arm, which had also fallen asleep. “Where's Nick?”

“Gone back to bed.” Having already divested himself of everything but his T-shirt and jeans, Wyatt appeared to be headed in that direction himself.

“I take it you didn't find anything.”

“Nope. Whoever it was must've been heading for the road when you saw that light. I bet we find some fences down in the morning.”

With no evidence to support my claim, most men would have told me that flash of light was nothing but a product of my overactive, hormone-driven imagination. Wyatt, on the other hand, still believed me. Granted, they'd already dealt with enough fencing problems for my story to have been plausible, but he didn't even qualify his response.

“Guess you'd better get some sleep.” I hesitated, unsure whether it was safe to press my luck. “Sorry for sending you out on a wild-goose chase.”

“Don't be. That was the first decent lead we've had.”

The silence between us stretched out long enough to feel awkward. “Good night,” I finally said. “Thanks for believing me.”

“Why wouldn't I believe you?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“Oh, you know—” I was about to say
you know how men are
until it struck me that I was talking to the one man to whom the general rules didn't appear to apply. “Most guys would tell me I was imagining things.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I don't think you were. I'd be stupid not to go take a look.”

“You're anything but that.” I must have been really sleepy because I hadn't intended to say that aloud.

His next words proved I had.

“I'm glad you think so.” He grazed my cheek with his fingertips. “I'd
really
be stupid if I didn't do this.”

Oh, God…

Spearing his fingers through my hair, he tilted my face upward, his searing gaze locking on to mine. The moment our lips touched, my eyelids fluttered down, and he ravaged my mouth with his kiss.

He didn't stop there. My face, ears, and neck were all easy targets for his scorching kisses. Kisses that robbed me of breath, sapped the strength in my legs, and destroyed every scrap of willpower I possessed.

There had to be valid biological reasons for those reactions—hormones and foreplay combining to turn women into willing participants in a less than equitable arrangement. Perhaps females only crumpled in male arms to enable the guy to have his wicked way with her—or carry her off somewhere.

Which is exactly what Wyatt did.

By the time my back touched the mattress, I'd forgotten all about biology and willpower. Sleep was unimportant. Nothing mattered but the man in my arms.

The urgency that had been missing with Dean finally surfaced. I wasted no time yanking off Wyatt's shirt, my palms and fingertips itching to make contact with his skin. Massaging his shoulders was nothing compared to this. The contours of his body were like classical sculpture beneath my hands, although unlike the cold hardness of marble, he was still hot from the exertions of the search.

The search.
I didn't care about that, either. Didn't care that some imaginary fellow with an infrared scope could probably see our heat signature through the window. Very little could have stopped us now.

Drunk on his scent and his touch, I didn't even consider offering any resistance. I was enhanced by him, made stronger, more complete, more
real
.

I didn't have to be shy anymore, didn't need to be. I could touch and caress any part of him I wished. His hair, his neck, his face, and the rest of that amazing body. They were mine now. I licked the side of his neck, tasting his salty skin before sinking my teeth into the taut muscles beneath. Biting him had gotten me kissed once before. What would it get me now?

A deep, guttural growl issued from his throat, transmitting the vibration to my lips.

“You're playing with fire, Tina.”

I smiled against his neck when I really felt like laughing. If he thought I didn't want him insane with passion, he had a lot to learn about me. I'd been hesitant with Dean, and now I understood why.