Reckless for Cowboy (5 page)

This is not a comfort to me.

When he finally turns off, we drive on a deeply rutted, gravel road for a few minutes until we get to a clearing and he parks. Trees surround us on all sides. The moon’s only a sliver, low in the sky, so the night is almost completely black.

“Umm, Cooper? What are we doing here?” My voice quivers. This is the perfect location for a crime—a murder and dismemberment, say—and I am more than a little jumpy.

“We’re here to see a light show. C’mon.”

He gets out of the truck and, as usual, comes and opens my door for me. However, I don’t get out. When the truck shifts beneath me a second later, I let out a little shriek. Turning around, I see Cooper in the bed of the truck, moving around. What is he doing?

My curiosity gets the better of me and I grab my jacket and step down out of the truck. I’m glad he told me to bring a coat. Even though it’s early July, the mountain air is cool and crisp. It’s also smells wonderful, like damp grass and pine. I wander around to where the tail gate is down and find Cooper standing in the box, a double foamy and sleeping bag unrolled in the bottom. He crouches down and holds his hand out to help me up.

“What is this?” I ask, ignoring his hand.

“The best seat in the house. Come on up. I don’t bite.”

What am I doing? I have no idea, but I take his hand and let him pull me up. He sits down on the sleeping bag and pats the space beside him. Reluctantly I sit down, crossing my legs and shoving my hands into my jacket pockets.

“Lie down,” he says as he does so himself, resting his head in his hands and staring up into the night sky. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “Would you look at that?”

With my suspicion detectors still on strong, I tilt my head up and…gasp. What the…! There are streaks of light zipping across the sky. This way, that way. Red, orange, white…

“A meteor shower?”

“Yep. Perfect night for it too. Hardly any moon, clear skies. Come on Brooke. Lie down.” He pats the space beside him again.

I don’t hesitate this time. I crawl right up beside him and stare up into the night sky. “I’ve never seen anything like it before,” I say a little breathlessly.

“Really?”

“Nope. Lived in the city most of my life…wow! Look at that one,” I say pointing to a huge ball of fire racing across the sky.

Cooper takes my outstretched hand and pulls it down between us. He keeps hold of it, threading his fingers through mine and every one of my senses is tuned into the warmth and strength of his hand while we watch the stars fall all around us.

Living in the city, I guess I don’t realize just how much I’m missing out. How many stars there are. How beautiful. How small but connected it makes you feel to watch something like this. After nearly half an hour of silence—broken only by the odd ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’—I say, “This is really great. Very romantic.”

“Is it?”

I shove him playfully. “As if that wasn’t your intention.”

A quiet chuckle is his only response. We lay there for a while longer when there’s a particularly bright star. “Make a wish,” he says.

I make one. It’s not the one I meant to make, but I make it all the same. “So what do we do now?” I ask, my voice doing this weird little catch thing at the back of my throat.

“We strip down, crawl into the sleeping bag and do the thing we’re both desperate to do.”

His words set off a meteor shower in my belly. But I try not to show any reaction so I keep staring up at the stars. For some reason, lying there in the dark with the night sounds all around us makes it easier to be honest. “Here’s the thing about me, Coop. I’ve tried the casual thing. It doesn’t work. Where my body goes, my heart follows. I won’t deny I’m attracted to you, but…” I don’t finish and he doesn’t finish for me.

After a few minutes of silence, he says, “Who says it’s any different for me?”

Bam. There he goes again. He doesn’t even have to touch me or kiss me. One little sentence and I’m dripping wet for him. Not fair.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” I complain.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve heard it all before. You say exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, making me believe you feel the same way I do. But I know how this goes. As soon as you get what you want, I’m dumped. Bye, bye Brookie. It’s a game to you. Just like last night was a game with you and Denny.”

“Brooke, I’m not Brandt.”

“Even
that
I’ve heard before,” I say rolling toward him. “
I’m different. I’m not like those other guys. Give me a chance.
Blah, blah, blah. All lies.”

“What’s it going to take to convince you?” He sits up so he can look down on me. It’s not a good vantage point because all I can see is his shadow, big and dark, leaning over me and with a sudden change in the direction of the wind, I catch a whiff of his cologne, spicy and sweet. All I want to do is tug him down on top of me even though my brain is screaming at me not to.

My body overpowers my mind and I reach for him, pulling him down.

“Brooke?”

“Kiss me.”

Oh man, I’m stupid…and weak. But I haven’t been able to think of anything but those few kisses we’ve shared. Now we’re here on the most romantic date of my life and he’s saying all the right things and even though my brain is shaking its head in cynicism, my body believes every single word of it.

His kiss is slow and leisurely this time. He teases my lips open with his tongue and tentatively sweeps inside, coaxing my tongue to come out and play. His mouth is warm and sweet and fresh, like he just brushed his teeth or popped a mint without me knowing. All the while, his hands are on the side of my face, tilting me this way and that so he can get the angle he wants.

After a few wonderful minutes of this, he stops to press his forehead against mine and whispers my name. If that’s not enough, he gently pries my knees open and grinds his pelvis between my open thighs. Can he feel how damp I am through our jeans? Is that what’s making him groan?

“I want you, Brooke.”

It’s mutual. But I don’t say it. I’m afraid if I say it, I’m giving him permission to keep going.

He starts kissing me again and this time it’s more heated. Desperate. He keeps his right hand behind the back of my neck while his left snakes down between us and beneath my jacket, tugging on my shirt tails until they’re clear of my jeans. I arch upwards, an unconscious motion, my body telling him I like where he’s going. His hands are calloused and rough against the delicate skin of my belly. I like it way too much.

Before he slides his hand higher, he pauses and whispers, “Okay?”

I nod. But I realize he probably can’t see it in the darkness and I manage to squeak out a, “Yes.”

He sighs in relief as if I’ve just given him a glass of water after a day in the desert.

“Undo my shirt,” he says. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

I am now at the point where I will do whatever he suggests. My logic center has turned itself off—giving up after being ignored all night. Logic will wake up tomorrow, chastise me for whatever is about to happen right now, and remind me what a fool I am. But for now, she’s silent and I am a solely physical being, basking in the sensation of Cooper’s hands on my body.

My own hands tremble, both with nerves and excitement, as I finish undoing the buttons on his shirt and spread it wide. There is nothing more exciting than exploring someone for the first time.

I splay my hands across his chest and sigh at the sensation of his warmth beneath my fingertips. Cooper is spectacularly ripped and I know that after this, Denny’s never going to do it for me again. Cooper’s just so much bigger, broader. Where Denny’s hairless, Cooper has a little patch, right between his pecs. There’s more that runs down from his navel to the waistband of his jeans. I follow that line, a path I’ve never taken. I’m giddy at the prospect of what I might find.

“Be careful,” he moans against my mouth. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish.”

My fingers pause on the button of his fly. I’m breathing hard now and I know he’s giving me a choice. Undo his fly and there’s no stopping us. Keep my hands on his chest and we can stop whenever I say.

Not knowing what I want, I do neither. Instead I press my now bare chest—not sure where my bra disappeared to, but it’s gone—up to his. We groan in unison and his kisses deepen as I rub myself against him.

Then he slides down so that his lips are on my throat, licking and kissing and sucking. He slides lower again and he tastes the hollow at the base of my neck. Lower. He’s at the top of my breasts, kissing, licking, fondling, rolling my nipple between his thumb and finger. “So good,” he whispers. He takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. “So fucking good.”

I hate the word fuck. Hate it. But in this instance, for whatever reason, I love it. Oh, God, do I love it. Not only that, I want to hear him say it again. No. I want to hear him scream it. Call me crazy, I want to scream it right back.

“Stop,” I say, panting. “Cooper, you need to stop.”

He keeps playing with my nipple, flicking it with his tongue as if trying to get me to change my mind.

“Coop?”

Finally he lifts his head. He looks at me, but I can’t see his eyes in the dark and I’m hoping he can’t see mine either. We’re both breathing hard and we stay like that until Cooper gently pulls my shirt together, rolls off of me and starts doing his up.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

After a moment he says, “Why do women feel the need to apologize for asking a man to stop?”

My hands still on my shirt. “I don’t know.”

He brushes the hair away from the side of my face. “You never need to apologize for asking me to stop.” He leans over and kisses me. “You just have to know there comes a time when it’s basically impossible for me to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

We do up our clothes and I’m thinking over what he’s said. He’s the first guy to ever say that to me.

I’m also thinking that it’s time to leave and even though it’s late I don’t want to go home yet. But Cooper lies back down and pulls me right down beside him, wrapping his arm around me and tucking my head beneath his chin. “It’s four. The best part of the show is about to begin.”

By the time I get home, the sun is up and I lie on my bed, not the least bit tired. I replay the whole night over in my head while absently rubbing my lips in remembrance of Cooper’s kisses. The meteor shower, the long conversation, his hands, his tongue, his chest…

Oh lord!

What have I done?

Logic is back and she’s screaming six words at me over and over again.

Do not fall for Cooper Hays!

Chapter Four

T
he next day is Thursday and work is torture. My inner cynic is all snarky about it.

I told you not to do it.

He’s going to use you, just like the last one.

You’re falling way too hard too fast…as usual.

I go to the crowded ladies room and manage to wiggle up to the mirror where I stare at my reflection, whispering beneath my breath for Ms. Inner Cynic to shut up.

“What is up with you?” Sydney asks a few minutes later as we both end up at the bar at the same time. “Everyone in your section is ordering drinks from me because you keep screwing up.”

“Sorry,” I murmur.

She rests her arm across my shoulder, “Things okay with the cowboy?”

“Sure,” I say. Feeling completely off-balance about the whole thing, like I don’t want to talk about it, like anything I say will jinx it or ruin it or make me finally see sense and run for the hills...

“Good, because there he is,” she says, pointing.

My heart travels up my esophagus, all ready for me to throw it up right here on the sticky bar room floor. He’s got a different hat on tonight—white—and it makes him look totally different. Totally…hot. Like the handsome twin brother of the guy who felt me up last night.

I gulp as he makes his way over to me. I feel his gaze, like a caress, as he checks out my clingy denim dress that leaves my shoulders and back totally bare.

“I hate that every man in this room is ogling you right now and I can’t do a damned thing about it.”

Splash. There I go again. My girlie bits are up and showering in response to his words. I breathe in deep, press my knees together and say, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He leans down and kisses my bare shoulder, the brim of his hat nudging my chin as he comes back up to face me.

One word, one look, one kiss and I’m a puddle of goo. “So…” I say, breathlessly.

“So, I hate to do this, but I can’t stay tonight. I’m riding tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I answer much too quickly and too brightly. Of course he needs his sleep before the rodeo tomorrow. With the late nights I’ve completely forgotten about the rodeo and about the fact that Cooper is part of it.

“I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow. Bring a couple changes of clothes, something comfortable and an overnight bag.”

“But I’ve got to work Saturday.”

“I know. I’ll have you back in time.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Well, it would be nice to know where I’m going, particularly if we’re spending the night.”

“Still don’t trust me?” He runs the back of his knuckles down my cheek.

I don’t answer. I can’t. His innocent caress has left me breathless.

Based on how amazing our first date was, I trust that wherever he takes me is going to be someplace good. But do I trust him not to break my heart?

No way.

Does he know what I’m thinking? Can he hear my silent doubts? Is that why he tilts my chin up and says, “It’ll be fun.” He kisses me softly and whispers, “No welching now, you hear? I’ll meet you outside after work.”

I watch him leave and Sydney sidles up to me, empty tray in hand. “Do you know how lucky you are?” she asks.

“Lucky?”

“That guy isn’t just smoking hot. He’s the real deal.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Now, let me give
you
a word of advice. Don’t let him slip through your fingers. Tell him how you feel.”