One Night with a Cowboy (Paint River Ranch) (Entangled Indulgence) (14 page)

Before he could get there, a man jumped up on the stage. Sophie turned with a reluctant smile and set the baseball cap on his head. Apparently, that simple gesture was all the encouragement the Mets fan needed to take Sophie’s hips in his hands and make a lewd gesture at her with his tongue. Dave better get his mop bucket ready, because shit was about to fly. Seeing red was appropriate, because all Tucker was thinking about was watching blood gushing from the Mets guy’s face after he popped him a good one.

Someone moved a chair in his path, but he whipped it furiously to the side, ignoring the curse and clamor that followed. He tunneled in on the man looking at her backside like it was a delicious treat. A foot from the stage, someone grabbed Tucker by the arm. He spun, hands clenched and jerked to a halt when he saw Pasha with a stubborn frown on her face.

“No way. You’re not going up there.”

“Like hell!”

“Don’t make me threw you out of here.” She nodded to the bouncer near the stage. Tucker knew one indication from her and he’d be out on his ass. So what. Just let them try to bounce him before he’d gotten Sophie down. Pushing past Pasha, he stormed to the platform. If Sophie was relieved to see him, she didn’t show it. She said something to the Mets guy, but he didn’t back off. The crowd squeezed around Tucker, hooting and cat-calling and cheering the Mets guy on. He was about to step up on the platform when someone bumped into him, driving him back. He ignored it, forged ahead until he was back at the platform. Sophie had moved a little closer to the edge as she twisted out of hat guy’s grip. Tucker snagged her hand.

He gave her a little pull. “Get down from there Fifi.”

“Tucker!” She tried to pull back, her expression clearly furious. Her anger fueled his to the limit. Was she actually mad that he was trying to break up the private show the Mets guy was after?

Tucker tightened his grip. “I said get down.”

The man behind Sophie stepped forward with his shoulders squared and jaw set. Tucker bristled, every inch of his body hollering that he get up there and start swinging. He held himself back by a very thin and frayed thread of self-control, because he never swung first, but he also never backed down once fists started flying.

“Back the hell off or it won’t end well for you.”

Sophie put her free hand on the man’s chest and shoved hard. He stumbled back, clearly not expecting her to push him away. The roar from the crowd turned into laughter.

“Why the hell do I need to get down?” She braced her feet and tried to pull back. Whatever game she was playing right now was not cool. Not cool at all. The apprehension on her face had been plain to see when the attention she was receiving got to be too much. And here she was, bucking him.

His patience was about done. “Because I told you to, that’s why!”

“You do
not
tell me what to do, farm boy.” Farm boy. Tucker tipped his head back and braced his feet, prepared to pull her clear off the stage for that little blow. He saw the bouncer from the corner of his eye, but it didn’t quell his anger any less. He wanted her out of here, away from these men.

When he just stood there, Sophie started to fidget. “Stop it. You’re making a scene!”

Tucker yanked. Sophie fell forward off the stage and right into his arms. Tucker held her tight. “You’re worth it.” She stood completely still in his embrace, her forearms braced against his chest and her eyes bound to his. The crowd around them faded from loud voices and the rustle of crunching bills, to nothing but the sound of her fast, hard breathing and the pummel of his own pulse against his veins.

Tension coiled in her so tight, it might be impressive to see her anger really unleash. But she was mad at him, which wasn’t what he’d intended, but he wasn’t sorry. Sometimes anger was a byproduct and he wouldn’t apologize for wanting her out of this bar. Maybe that made him selfish—okay, it did—but he didn’t give a flying fuck.

“My god, Tucker. You’re going to get me fired!”

He almost laughed. Did she really think that mattered one bit? “Obviously, I don’t care.”

Sophie pulled away and bar sounds seeped back in, reminding Tucker that they had an audience. A big one. He was grateful when she spun and stomped off. He followed her, each step cooling his temper, but not his need to make her understand…

Understand what, exactly?

He caught Sophie’s arm gently when she slipped into an empty hallway that lead to the kitchen. She spun, making it easy to press her back against the wall. Talking wasn’t getting him anywhere, and he didn’t know what to say anyway, so he’d just have to show her.

Her fingers wrapped around his wrists in a fluid choreography as he took her face between his hands and wedged a knee between her legs. A fluttery gasp that sounded a lot like, “yes,” came from her lips right before he ground his mouth to hers. It wasn’t seductive, or soft, the way he kissed her. It was possessive and raw, an erotic communication that spilled out of him, claiming him in the process. Because this was caring. This was connection. This was wanting more.

More Sophie. Sophie in his bed, his home, by his side.

God, this was what his brother had…what his mother was holding by the hand, and Tucker wanted it, too.

The interior of her lower lip was velvety soft when he ran the tip of his tongue there. A small groan escaped her, her body arching away from the wall until their chests touched. His hands slid down her neck, taking on the curve of her shoulders to the narrow line of her ribs and curve of her waist. He’d had her, sure, but he didn’t know her body, not the way he wanted to. Each line and dip and arch; he wanted them imprinted in his mind like a map, the kind that lovers made of each other when sex turned into a lifetime.

He pulled back, panting, heart full and racing to the point his chest actually hurt. He’d had that once and he’d walked away…still. Sophie’s arms went to her sides, her palms going flat against the wall as if to keep from touching him. She didn’t look mad anymore, but seemed just as conflicted as he felt.

“You need to go home, Tucker.” There was a distinct tremble to her voice and for the first time, he was a little sorry for being so caveman with her earlier. There was probably another way he could have handled that, but whatever.

“I hate it that you’re working here.” What was the point in hiding from her anymore? He still wasn’t sure what was going on inside him, but it wanted out.

Her shoulders moved in a boneless shrug. “Why? Why the hell does it matter?” His fingers threaded through the hair at her temples, fast and strong, pulling her to him with a renewed flare of emotion.
Everything she does matters to me.

“I want you Sophie.” The words tumbled out. “I don’t understand it, but that’s all I know…that I want you to
be
with me.” A beat passed between them as he searched her eyes. Sophie ran a palm over her lips and turned her head to the tune of his heart dropping to his feet. The deep breath she took sounded ripe with brewing tears.

“We can’t do this right now. Go home, Tucker.”

“Sophie—

“Please.” Her plea didn’t move him into action, but the broken way she said it did. He’d spent his entire life afraid of not being able to give people what they needed emotionally, or not recognizing what they needed in return. He’d handled this whole thing badly and he was trying, really, dammit, trying to be sorrier about that.

If she needed him to walk away, he would. Every muscle in his back, legs, and neck were screaming to stay right where he was, but he backed up so Sophie could push away from the wall. And then he swept his thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip, ignored the ache in his groin and his chest, and left.

Chapter Sixteen

Sophie climbed to a perch on the metal fence as Tucker reined the horse he rode sharply to the left. Exhausted from working the night before and attempts to sleep that equaled one big fail after that, her brain began to perk up at the sight before her. He rode the black and white horse bareback, his long, leather-clad legs showing off strong thighs. Sweat coated the back of Tucker’s gray T-shirt, allowing the material to cling to every dip and rise of muscle. He was hatless today, the sun highlighting streaks of blond and copper in his mahogany hair.

Her heart was equally filled with elation and the weight of regret. Not only did he look incredible on that horse, Tucker was a really good man. The kind that women lined up to find and fought each other for a chance to be with. And he’d said he wanted her. Of all the women in Montana, he’d chosen her.

And she couldn’t choose him back. The metal railing was warm from the sun as she gripped it hard. Two things summed up her life right now: the impending death of her mother and the uncertainty of her future. Both brought enough anxiety to kill a bull. Though being here at Paint River gave her a wonderful sense of peace, Sophie was aware it wouldn’t last. Her time here would end, her mother would pass, and, eventually, Sophie needed to find a way to start her life over. Working at the Tit for Tap was temporary. And after that? She really, truly had no idea.

Tucker’s brow was dipped in concentration as the horse went through a series of paces. The animal flicked his ears back and forth. She knew squat about horses, but those crazy ears just made the horse look cranky. First the horse walked, then jogged a little, and then started running in a circle around the corral. If Tucker had seen her on the fence, he didn’t make any acknowledgement. With a soft command, he pulled back slightly on the reins and the horse tossed his head like a stubborn toddler. Tucker’s thighs clenched, his lower legs moving back just a bit, hands going forward. The animal’s body bunched, his flanks quivered like he was chasing off flies, tail swapping sharply against his belly.

Tucker made a sound, maybe a vocal command, Sophie didn’t know. His legs repeated the same movement and he gave a click of his tongue.

And then the horse lost it.

The animal reared with another flick of his tail, head slashing side to side. Sophie cried out, but Tucker held on like the pro he was. Hooves hit the ground hard. One leg kicked out as his ears laid flat. Tucker flipped off sideways and managed to land on his feet, sending a puff of dirt up onto Sophie’s boots. Her stomach clenched, momentarily taking her mind off the reason she’d come looking for him.

He spun when he realized Sophie was on the fence behind him.

“Oh my gosh, Tucker, that horse is—”

He walloped his hat against his knee before throwing it on his head. “A son of a mother-effing-piece of fuc—” His face was set hard as he stifled the string of curses and drew a hand across his nose and mouth. “Stubborn!” he growled. “Pana bar Noir is stubborn.”

“I was going to say beautiful.”

Tucker’s lips pinched into a hard, white line. Sophie chuckled, tried to hide it with her hand. She’d been a little worried he was hurt, but it was apparent his pride was the only thing bruised. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she giggled again. She expected him to be upset with her over the way they’d left things last night and the light of good humor behind his irritation at the horse was good to see.

Tucker turned away to grab Pana’s reins. “You got something to say to me, woman?” He cocked his head with a glimmer of a grin.

“Why is this poor horse so far away from the yard?” The pen was tucked down below a gentle incline that lead to a thick row of trees. Branches overhung a small strip of the pen providing shade and the tinkle of aspen leaves in the breeze. She’d gone down to the barns and asked around for Tucker. No one seemed to know where he’d gone until a ranch hand had pointed her down here. With the gentle breeze and quiet, she couldn’t blame him for choosing this place today.

“Because Pana’s in bad-horse solitary, that’s why. The farther away from distraction he is, the better he learns something new.” He reached Pana and led him over. Despite the violent dance just moments ago, Pana stood calmly, head low, ears resting to the side. “He’s still recovering from his accident. Being one-on-one with me soothes him. Makes him easier to handle.”

Sophie jumped down from the fence and reached a tentative hand to stroke Pana’s nose. “Accident?” She was amazed at how smooth and silky the horse’s fur was, how velvety his lips felt when they blubbered over her palm, looking for a treat. She laughed at the tickle of those big lips so gently nibbling her skin.

“He was in a stock trailer that rolled down an incline during a storm. He was the only survivor of four.” Sophie listened as he related how Pana had nearly killed Cole’s daughter last year when she got under his feet during a storm. “It wasn’t intentional aggression,” Tucker explained. “It was the storm and a case of Birdie being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Pana’s doing better, aren’t you boy?” He patted the horse’s neck. “He’s learning to leave the past behind.”

Sophie’s shoulders sagged a bit. The reassurance in Tucker’s voice made it seem like maybe he was comforting her and not Pana. Which was ridiculous, because how could he know the twisty path she’d been walking on? Before she could lament any more, he thrust the reins in her hands. She took them on reaction.

“What? He’s dangerous!” She moved to drop the reins, but Tucker put a hand over hers and closed her fingers.

“You could smash this horse between a T-rex and an atom bomb and he’d stand here looking lazy and stupid just like he is right now. Unless there’s a storm. Or you try to put him in a trailer. Or ride him.” He grinned like he’d just told a joke as he walked to the far side of the pen.

Sophie called after him. “Then why do I have to hold onto him?”

“Because you look sexy when you squirm.” Tucker picked something up and came back over, smirking lightheartedly when he saw how stiffly she was standing. With quick movements, Tucker unhooked the bridle from Pana’s head and let it fall to the ground. Pana snorted, tossed his head. Before she could back up, Tucker took her left hand and placed it on Pana’s big, round jaw. A flicker of panic made her want to swivel away, but his palm was warm and rough where it pressed into her skin, giving her a tremble. Slowly, Tucker moved their hands so her fingers ran over Pana’s silky hide.

“He likes this after you take the halter off. Don’t ya, pain in the ass?” Pretty soon, Tucker had both of her hands in his, ran them over Pana’s face and ears. The horse leaned into their touch with soft, pleased grunts. Sophie was amazed how he relished the attention, even begged for more by pressing into her hands. All that power, all that muscle and angst was reduced to a puddle with some simple, affectionate attention. And love. Because Tucker was giving this huge animal love, there was no doubt, just to help him have a better life.

Sophie broke free of Tucker’s touch, relieved when he stepped back to allow her to move away from Pana. The horse snorted and trotted away, leaving Tucker to pick up the bridle and Sophie to try and gather her storm of emotions.

“We need to talk, Tucker.”

“Yeah?”

Tucker fiddled with a strap on the bridle and she didn’t push to fill the silence that stretched between them. If only they could have met another time…a couple years from now, after she had her life back on track. A breeze ruffled her bangs, prompting her to look up at the mountain peaks that tipped the sun and the brilliant shades of green all around her. She glanced at the dirt on her hands from petting the horse—dirt that at one time would have made her run to the nearest sink. Right now, it was a reminder that she was firmly present in this moment, in this place.

Tucker slung the bridle over his shoulder. “Well, since I’m so good at it, three guesses on the topic.”

“Tucker…”

“You broke a fingernail?” He cocked his head with a teasing grin. “No? Okay. You were thinking about your…puppy that died when you were in the fourth grade, and it made you sad.”

She scoffed. “I never had a puppy.”

“Yeah, I imagine not. Then that only leaves one topic that could put such a sour look on your face.” He turned his back to grab a little wooden box with brushes and other horse things peeking out of it. “Must be a man involved.”

He turned back to her, one hand running over his middle. “Am I right?”

“Yes, but there’s no prize this time.” She’d wanted that to come out jokingly, but it fell flat.

He cleared his throat as he approached the fence. “I’m getting that impression.” Tucker set down the things and rested an elbow on the rail, facing her. There seemed to be more he wanted to say, so she waited, but he didn’t go on, so she stared at her feet a moment, studying the grime on the tips of her flats and realizing she’d need more rugged footwear if she was going to hang out at the ranch much longer.

Stupid thought.

“You know, it’s going to sound so lame and cliché, but I have a lot going on right now…”

“That’s a cop-out Sophie,” Tucker interrupted. He pulled a toothpick from his back pocket and put it between his teeth. It bobbed up and down, hugged tightly by those sensual lips. “And you’re not a cop-out kind of girl.”

“You want me to explain the personal details of my life to you?” It was too personal, too intimate to share her mother’s condition and her family drama with him. No, that would be getting closer, letting him in more. A complete contrast to what she needed to do. “Well, I can’t.”

“I figured there were a lot of things I couldn’t do, too, and here I am doing them.”

She took the bait, against her better judgment. “Like what?”

He grinned around the toothpick, though the expression didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t figure it matters much, considering you’re here to tell me we can’t see each other anymore. Did I guess that right, too?” The sarcastic edge to his voice was soft, but not hidden and it cut her regardless.

“Look, I don’t know how to integrate anything else into my life right now. It’s not fair to you, Tucker.”

Tucker pushed away from the fence and looked up at the sky as his hands found his hips. The smooth, masculine planes of his cheekbones were highlighted in shadow as a cloud moved over the sun, and gave his facial structure a cut, rugged deliciousness. “I’ve learned to live with not fair, Sophie. But I’ve also learned that you can’t take what’s not there. Are you saying there’s nothing inside of you for me?”

This tender side of him was an element she hadn’t yet seen. The dominant, sexy side, the toughness, the commanding presence and the stubborn anger were the pieces that made up the cowboy she knew. But this…he was almost laying his heart on the line, maybe was in the only way he knew how, and it reminded her how much she still didn’t know about this man. The softness gutted her.

She shook her head. “I’m not saying that.” It was just impossible to work around the part of her heart that was singularly beating for her mother. That was a love that couldn’t be moved or added to right now.

Tucker’s hand slid along the rail as if he might touch her leg. His fingers came within an inch of her knee, but he didn’t reach out any more. If he did touch her, she’d probably melt right off the fence and beg him for a kiss like he’d given her last night. That kiss, and his confession, had left her dazed the rest of her shift. How she’d both muddled through and warded off Pasha’s questions was a miracle.

The slice of her cell phone’s ringtone broke the silence. Tucker took a quick step back as if the sound had startled him. Jumping down, Sophie grabbed the cell from her pocket, noting Carla’s number on the screen. With one look at Tucker, she squeezed through the fence rails and answered the call, walking slowly back toward the ranch, with the sensation that she was somehow in deeper with Tucker now than she’d been before.