Pressure Point (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 3) (9 page)

A zillion thoughts trickled through her mind. Why? How?

Nash didn’t know her enough to want to give her such an extravagant gift. And he didn’t do this because he wanted something in return…or did he? But what did she have that he’d want?

Well, she would find out soon enough.

She moved toward the barn, making her feet move—one, two, three…she counted to ten as tingles shot through her limbs.

What was the big deal? She would thank him and be on her way. Simple and easy.

Yet, she knew when it came to Nash, simple and easy wouldn’t be in the mix.

Waking up this morning, her thoughts immediately flashed to him. She concluded that she did indeed have a crush on him. And the gift sealed the deal. Not that she’d expected any gifts, but once again, his kindness prevailed.

What woman wouldn’t want Nash? Gorgeous, successful, yet down to earth, kind, and a gentleman to boot…he could only be described as a perfect package. But not for her. No way.

She couldn’t like a man like Nash because…

Well…

Her mind went blank.

Probably because she had never had a relationship with a cowboy—a real cowboy that was. John Nazarene was a showboat. There was the one night stand with Spark’s cowboy friend—her one and only, but that was so far in the past.

Licking her lips, she hooked her thumbs in her pockets.

What would Nash want with her? A good time? Sure, but good times always end.

She stepped through the door and found him stacking bales of hay. A fluttering bounced through her veins at the amazing view before her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she darted her hungry gaze from his wet hair to the tips of his worn boots. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his golden skin glistened. The years of working on a ranch had sculpted his body into flawlessness. He moved and muscle rippled, sleek and strong. Her nipples hardened and the area between her legs awakened.

She didn’t feel a sudden need to interrupt his work. No hurry. She liked the view right where she stood. She couldn’t find a better one if she tried.

Following his flexing body parts, she became fully aware of the heat pooling in her starving loins. His dark hair and body were slick with sweat—she’d never found sweat so sexy before. Ticking her gaze lower, she had an urgency to fan her body as the temperature reached an inferno. She followed the patch of crisp hair that disappeared below his shiny belt buckle.

Wow. The man was a walking hazard. And oh boy, did she want a piece of the trouble.

Watching him work became very erotic, teasing her, making her sensitive spots moisten.

Her body didn’t mind the show, not at all. But she knew the fire developing within her couldn’t be extinguished with her toy in her nightstand back home. No, this buildup needed a hot stud.

She reminded herself again, he wasn’t her type. How could she keep forgetting?

Em liked men who wore a business suit, gained a gorgeous body at the gym, not baling hay and fixing fences. She enjoyed a man who was refined and fashionable, not one who wore his hat tilted to one side, cocky and proud, and liked wearing more holes in his jeans than a slice of Swiss cheese.

Her type was any man who wasn’t a cowboy.

She could keep telling herself those words.

Her dad turned her against cowboys long ago. He worked all of the time and didn’t believe in vacations. Em loved vacationing and exploring new parts of the world. By day, she loved her boots and cowgirl digs, and at night she traded her cowgirl look in for high heels and sophistication.

Continuing to stare…a little fantasy never hurt anyone.

He stretched his arms high above his head, pushing the bale of hay onto the top of the stack. Every line, every masculine dip and cranny coiled under olive skin. Her mouth watered and she realized maybe she needed to reconsider her foolish notion of her ‘type’.

Damn. She hadn’t come here to start up a relationship or sack the next-door neighbor in a barn, although it wasn’t a bad idea. She only wanted to say thank you and tell him she’d pay him back, every last penny, even if it took her twenty years. Her body had different thoughts as she watched him. It wanted to get naughty with a cowboy.

A year had passed since she’d slept with a man, so her body craved affection…hell, it wanted a fuck. A nice, long, immoral ride in bed. Her relationship with John had never gotten to the next level, and probably never would have. Fact was, she’d never felt the heated attraction for John like she did, well, Nash. Something about chemistry, their chemistry, that freakin’ rocked her world.

There was a crack in her fantasy.

Nash was attracted to women like Katy, the barista. Cute, perky, and nice. A prom queen type. Em didn’t consider herself any of those things. She’d always been short, curvy, and had a passion for adventure. Katy probably had a five-year plan. Em had a two-day-maybe plan. She didn’t mean to get into so much trouble, or make life so rough for those who cared for her. It just seemed that every time she tried to make something better for someone she loved, all hell broke loose.

Em always meant to do right, but sometimes the twisted path to get to where she needed to go could be hard on those around her.

Yeah, Nash deserved a woman like sweet and pretty Katy. Not a loose screw like Em. He wanted a wife and kids, and Em had no clue if she’d ever fit the mommy bill. Some women were born natural mothers, and some were born natural aunts. It could be possible she only had the ability to be an aunt. Jewels and Pearl were definitely mommy material.

“Hey, Em, are you going to stand there staring all day or do I have something you need?”

Oh boy, did he have something she needed.

The blood rushed to the apex of her thighs so fast and hard that her muscles trembled. Wow, she didn’t realize until now how much she missed having a man.

Pulling her thoughts on track, she cleared her throat and moved forward. “Please tell me you have a water in that cooler. The afternoon heat has gotten to me.” She fanned her face.

He nodded, removed his gloves and tossed them on the workbench. He bent and retrieved a bottle from the cooler and handed it to her. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

She popped the lid and gulped down half of it. Lord have mercy, she’d need a cold shower when this was all through. “Oh, you must have known I’d stop by.”

He grabbed his shirt from a hook and slid it on. Bye, bye abs. Disappointment slithered through her. “Yeah, why’s that?”

“I thought about calling first, but I wanted to see you.” And oh brother did she see him. Heat spiraled through her. She stepped backward and plopped down on a bale of hay before her knees gave out.

“You did? Are you okay?” he asked, the creases around his eyes deepened.

His concern brought back the memory of him holding her, threading his fingers through her hair.  His touch had opened up closed doors in her body, making her want things that weren’t available. It had been a long time since she’d allowed a man close. Nash made her wonder if dating someone again could be possible.

He left his shirt open and beads of sweat formed on his smooth chest. Holy mother of all good. Seeing him and not getting to touch was the worst punishment ever. Over the years, he’d grown from cute boy to a strikingly handsome man. How could she have missed this over the last few years? Too wrapped up in her own life, she’d missed the scenery.

“I’m okay. I received a call from John this afternoon.”

“You did?” He reached for his hat from the workbench and placed it on his head, lowering it to shade his eyes.

“You bought Trojan for me.”

His shoulders slumped some. “Nazarene gave me a good offer and I couldn’t refuse.”

Em placed her trembling hands into her lap, picking at the pieces of fringed material at the hem of her shorts, feeling ridiculous for being so nervous around Nash. “Come on, we both know John only looks out for himself.” She smoothed her tongue across her lips as nerves attacked her stomach. “I don’t see that happening. I owe you money.”

Nash kicked the bale of hay across from her and took a seat. He leaned back, resting against a pole, stretching his jeaned legs. His boots were three inches from her sandaled feet. “No, you owe me nothing. After what happened with Sea Breeze, you deserve the next best thing. That is if you’ll accept the gift.”

“I did, I will. But I think it’s best I pay you back.” She looked at him through the veil of her lashes. She didn’t need kicked in the stomach to catch on to Nash’s character. His kindness sent her reeling. However, she didn’t want to be indebted to anyone.

“Like I said, you don’t owe me. Nazarene gave me a deal.”

She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I want to and I know how much you paid. It’s a chunk of cash. I can’t even begin to tell you how sweet your gesture is, but I know John, and I know he didn’t give you a deal on Trojan without getting more than money.”

“Let’s just say, Nazarene and I saw eye to eye.”

“I have the check from dad and I will give it to you.”

“If that’s what you want, Em, but I don’t expect it.” He pushed his hat back on his forehead. His eyes were the color of the pale sky. She inhaled sharply and got a whiff of his scent—musk and manliness. Her body trembled and her toes curled in her open toed shoes.

“Why would you do something like this? I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone do something for me without expecting anything in return.” She ticked her hair behind her ear.

“What I saw, what Nazarene did to you, it’s hard to explain the anger that erupted inside of me. I couldn’t even begin to describe it.” His eyes darkened.

“And I can’t begin to thank you enough. For him to sell a racehorse, you must have very good persuasive skills.”

He shrugged and rubbed the backs of his knuckles across his cheek. “Are you doing okay? Ya know, after—”

She nodded. “Yes.” She moved her feet and her calf skimmed his leg. A current rushed through her. Taking another long drink of water, she wished the butterflies inside of her stomach would give it a rest. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so giddy around a man before.

“Good. You can’t let a man like Nazarene bring you down.”

“I won’t forget that I made a promise to get you a date with the hottie barista Katy.” The words were like acid on her tongue. She’d made a promise and she had to follow through, but she couldn’t deny the emotions twisting and turning in her chest. She didn’t want him to like the blonde barista, but she couldn’t believe that anything Em had shared with Nash meant he’d changed his mind about dating Katy.

“Did you tell you your dad the truth?” One thick brow popped up.

She gave her head a quick shake. “No. I know I should have. I couldn’t. I will though.”

He nodded and sighed. “I’m sure you will when the time is right.”

Awkward silence fell over them. He stared at her, his gaze pensive and she nervously pushed her hands down her thighs, grappling for something to say, and then it came to her. “I have some very good news though.” She scooted to the edge of the hay bale, plastering a smile on her lips. “You and I have a date, tonight, that is if you’re available.”

“A date?” He looked skeptical.

“I found out through my relentless avenues that the chick you have a thing for, Katy Hughes, will be at a party tonight of a mutual friend of ours.”

“So you’re suggesting we crash the party like two stalkers?” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m not into drama.”

“Seriously? I’m invited and you’re my date.” She placed her hands on her knees.

“And how is that supposed to get me a date with Katy? If I’m with you, she’ll think I’m taken.”

“Nash, there’s something you need to understand about women. Most of the time we want something we can’t have. I’m going to make you seem like Prince Charming and she’ll want to wear the glass slipper.” Em stood up. “And once we’ve broken up, she’ll have you all to herself.” Her voice cracked.

“If you say so. Are you saying I’m not a prince on my own?” One brow lifted and a wicked smile crossed his lips.

Em swallowed. Where was the poker face when she needed it? “You have a great basis to start with.” She nervously tugged down the hem of her shirt and roved her gaze from his neck to the tips of his worn boots. “Do you own a suit?”

“No.”

“A pair of black slacks?”

“No.”

“How about a pair of nice jeans, without the air conditioning?”

“Yes.”

Finally. “Good. Wear those with the shirt I bought you. She won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you.” Before Em thought over her actions, she reached over and slid her finger down the front of his shirt. Their gazes met and a spark flashed between them. She dropped her hand and forced air through her nose.

“How about you, Em? Can you keep your eyes off of me?” He stood and took a step closer, his masculinity crowding her. He stood so close she could have reached out and touched him, kissed him. She couldn’t—shouldn’t.

She didn’t have to…

He reached out and swept a tendril of her hair from her cheek. “Did you wear those Daisy Dukes to drive me crazy?” His voice was so warm, so inviting.