Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1) (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

PIPPA STOOD BY the barn that housed the livestock, scanning the large crowd that had come to watch the riders and listen to the band playing on stage. They had a decent line up of singers. She tapped her toe along with the beat of the popular song sung by a young newcomer to country music. The screams of fans mingled with the singer’s husky voice.

Leaning against the cool outer wall, Pippa inhaled deeply, catching the scent of hay, horses, and elephant ears. The sun was beating down on her and she was glad she’d sprayed herself with sunscreen. With her pale skin, she’d burn and that wasn’t conducive to the plans she’d weaved for herself tonight.

A group of cowboys walked passed her and she scanned their faces, not seeing the particular cowboy she was looking for. Two women, dressed in bikinis and smiles that broadcasted naughty thoughts, bounced up to the men. One of the women, a petite brunette with Double Ds, handed over a pen. When one of the cowboys asked what she wanted him to sign, the brunette gave him a coy look, then thrust her chest forward and pulled down one cup of her top. Her nipple ring twinkled in the sunlight. She got her autograph and a smile. After the men walked away, the young ladies were giggling over their newly inked bosoms and cheerfully bragged on how their friends were going to be green with envy.

Pippa laughed and shifted in her new boots, spotting a poster attached with thumbnails to the side of the barn door. She stepped closer, her throat constricting. Now she realized where she had heard the name Jericho. Roman Jericho was one-fifth of the Jericho brothers—the star rodeo brothers, just as the sign boasted. Roman and Penn Jericho were making a star appearance, signing autographs at today’s event.

She took a step backward and was pushed by a passerby. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Giving her head a little shake, she remembered the documentary she’d watched about the brothers a few years back. Their father was a well-known rider and they’d followed in his footsteps—inheriting the ’eight-second’ gene pool. What she recalled most about the men was how the documentary had portrayed them as players. Bachelors who couldn’t be nailed to one woman.

This changed things a bit…or did it?

Wasn’t she here for this very reason?

What was she doing here among this crowd?

She was miles out of her comfort zone—Earth from Mars distance.

A man like Roman must have all sorts of women falling at his dusty boots, flashing nipple rings and big boobs. What need would he have for a nerdish woman who hadn’t used her seduction skills in so long they were probably rusty? Her B-cups had never felt so small in her life. She wasn’t sure she could handle anything that didn’t require batteries and a good cleaning afterward. She hadn’t thought this through very carefully. Had she really believed she was the type to, well, screw a stranger? She should stick to giving advice and leave the dirty work to the women who knew how to.

Turning on her heel, she smacked her face into an iron wall. She pulled back and rubbed her sore nose, then slowly moved her eyes along the Chambray shirt and strong jawline, to those amazing eyes that had haunted her from the moment she saw them in the lobby of the casino.

“Are you wanting an autograph?” Roman smiled and her toes curled in the uncomfortable boots.

“I’m afraid I don’t have paper.” She wished her voice wouldn’t shake like a child’s on their first day of school.

“Neither did they.” He winked and nodded to where the buckle bunnies in the bikinis were now hanging around another cowboy.

“I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for something I’m not.” She walked away, but within seconds, he was beside her. Giving him a side-glance, she wasn’t surprised in seeing him smile. Yeah, he was sexy with his penetrating blue eyes and tilted grin, but she was losing bravery by the second. Sure, she’d come here to sleep with him, but she didn’t know if she had it in her for a one-night stand.

“You might want to tell me who I’ve mistaken you for,” he said.

She kept on walking.

He grabbed her shoulder firmly, but his fingers didn’t hurt one bit, and he stopped her. He slid his hand down her arm and tugged her by the elbow into a breezeway between the livestock buildings, away from the growing maze of human traffic coming from the pavilion. “Hey, you just got here. You can’t leave now.”

She stood so close to him that she could feel the heat from his body burning through her skin, making her nipples painfully tight. She backed up until her shoulders struck the cement wall. “I just realized who you are,” she whispered.

“And that scares you how?” He lifted a thick brow.

“Did you think I was a groupie when you saw me at the casino?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Most buckle bunnies don’t bring their laptops and wear a turtle neck. Anyway, remember you told me you were in town for work.”

She squinted. “I wasn’t wearing a turtleneck.”

“You should have been.”

“Are you making fun of me?” she snapped.

“You’re not all bound up in clothing now. I like the T-shirt. Is it true?” He caught her by surprise when he lightly skimmed his finger along the tops of her breasts.

Her knees weakened and she couldn’t seem to wrap her brain around his words. “What?”

“The shirt. ‘Sweet and saucy. Dare to taste?’” He moved his finger as he read each word.

She knew the shirt was a big mistake. “It was the only thing the casino shop had left that fit me. Apparently I’m not the only one who needed last minute rodeo clothing.”

His smile grew and her inner thighs moistened. “So you know who I am, and I know who you are.” His eyes dazzled.

“Is that right?”

“Didn’t you want me to know that you’re Pippa Wilder—the one with all of the relationship answers? The posters at the casino don’t do you justice, darlin’. Although, the prim teacher look is sort of sexy.”

She refused the need to fan herself. “I don’t introduce myself by my career. Just as you didn’t introduce yourself as a star.”

“I’m not a star, sweetheart.” He leaned in, their chests pressed together and she could barely breathe. He picked up a tendril of her hair and weaved it around his thick finger, brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I’m just me.”

“You, who is well known as a rodeo star. All of these women are here for you.” She gave a quick look into the crowd from her spot hidden in the alcove. A part of her wanted to stay here, with him, as long as possible.

“Me and about twenty other cowboys. I haven’t donned my leather chaps in a year. They’ll forget about me soon enough.”

She swallowed hard. How could anyone forget about him in a million years? She knew she wouldn’t. “You’re still signing autographs. I’d say that’s pretty clear.”

“Two of my brothers still ride. It’s kept the name on scene.”

“Okay.” Had he leaned in closer? She could smell leather and spice, and the mintiness of his breath.

“I have a confession. When I saw you sitting at the table, with that pretty little wrinkle between your brows and sad expression, I wanted to see you smile. A woman as beautiful as you should never frown. And, of course, I wanted to kiss you. Those lips…wow.”

“Are you always this quick to divulge to a stranger what you’re feeling?”

“Only when I get the inclination.” He flashed a grin.

She smiled. She was totally taken by this man. His gaze held hers and the entire world disappeared except for the two of them, and the sensations spiraling through her like a cyclone were caught in her soul. The tiny creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth were even adorable. Was there any flaw or fault to this man?

He moved in and she realized he was going to kiss her. Her heart thumped against her ribs and she closed her eyes, parted her lips, anticipating the moment when he would put her out of her misery.

“Where the hell have you been?”

The words were like a cold shower on a barbecue.

Pippa flicked her eyes open and looked down the breezeway, finding a cowboy watching them with hands on his hips. He was a younger version of Roman with longer hair that touched his collar and a slightly thinner built. She knew this must be his brother, Penn.

Roman groaned and pulled back. “Not in front of the lady.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” The cowboy dipped his hat in apology. “We have more autographs. Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ll meet you at the booth, bro.” Roman’s words left no room for argument. Penn sighed and left.

“You should go,” she whispered, incapable of using her voice completely.

He nodded. “I should, but I don’t want to.”

*****

Roman wasn’t sure what was happening at this moment, but he’d never been this caught up over a woman in his life. At the casino he’d seen her sitting there, looking bothered and unhappy, and he’d been struck with a desire to make her smile. It was true. As he’d sat there longer, he’d found her company refreshing. She wasn’t like most of the women he came into contact with, or had come into contact with while on the circuit. The buckle bunnies were all so quick to throw themselves at his feet, he barely had the opportunity to look into their eyes. And boy did he like a nice pair of eyes. Pippa had a gorgeous set and they seemed to charge right through his chest and grip his heart. Deep green with a brown freckle in the left eye. Her hair, he wanted to sink his hands into the satin cascade while he sank his body inside of her. The need was overwhelming. He had a hundred women in the crowd that would happily ease the tension in his gut, but the only one he wanted was the timid, demure woman standing before him. She wore the tight tee, Daisy Dukes, and polished leather boots like a newbie, but he found her effort respectful. He loved the toned length of her legs and luscious thighs.

Pippa was a breath of fresh air. She had a brain and he’d guess she wasn’t afraid to use it either. He wanted to ditch the event, buy her a lemon shake and funnel cake, and sit under the shade of an oak tree and hear her talk—about anything really. Now that was a change from his old habits of meeting, greeting, and bedding.

Damn! He wasn’t that man anymore though. He swore to himself he wouldn’t sleep with a stranger and walk away feeling a bigger void. It was high time he started thinking of his future, and the things he wanted. He didn’t need a wife, but he was starting to want one. And a couple of kids. At thirty-five he wasn’t getting any younger. That’s why he retired from the circuit. A man couldn’t have a life when every time he got on a bull, he put his in danger.

“Will you stick around?”

She moistened her lips and he wanted to do that for her. “I will.”

“I won’t be long. An hour maybe. I definitely want to see you later.”

She groaned low, but he wondered if he’d imagined it. “I want to see you later too.”

He dropped his gaze from her eyes to her lips. They were plump with a rosy hue—the perfect lips for kissing. Her bottom lip slightly trembled and his gut ached. If only he could ditch his responsibilities. But his brothers would kick his ass. The money they earned from these things helped them grow their fairly new business—Second Chances Securities. Lately, that’s what Roman’s focus was on.

With great regret, he pulled away. “Don’t go far.”

She smiled and he turned, stepping into the crowd, making his way through the maze toward the building where he and his brother were set up. He tugged his hat low on his forehead, hoping to make it to his destination without being recognized. Otherwise, he’d be signing autographs here when what he really wanted was for the fans to line up at the booth where they sold memorabilia. This wasn’t Roman’s dream job, to be at a hot event signing pictures and skin, but it wasn’t the worst he supposed. He didn’t mind meeting the fans, or even signing autograph after autograph, but he was a man who liked to work with his hands—liked to sweat. When he was doing events like this, he was always one step ahead of himself thinking of the things he should be doing back at the ranch, Second Chances. There was always something that needed to be done. His brothers, Weston, Urban, and Hugh, were still back on the land, working, but none of them had bookkeeping skills and that was Roman’s area of expertise in the securities business.

He approached the booth where a line had already gathered. Penn was frowning. “’Bout time,” he groaned.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Roman mumbled.

“You were the one who told me before we got here that this isn’t my playground. To be focused on promoting the brand. Your exact words, “Keep your dick in your pants and your brain on the job.’”

“Don’t judge me.”

“Someone should be listening to themselves.” Penn chuckled.

Roman gave him a look of warning and his brother’s smile fizzled. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”

“Haven’t seen her before. Things seemed pretty hot.” Penn saddled up to the counter that separated him from the crowd. “Who’s up?”

Roman wasn’t quite ready to get his head back in the game, but he plastered a smile on his face and greeted the first autograph. “Just met her myself.” Roman kept his voice low.

“Huh?” The fan widened his eyes.

“Talking to him.” Roman gave a side nod toward his brother. “Who should I make this out to?”

“Benny is fine.” He laid a poster down on the counter and smoothed it out. “I bought this from your first rodeo,” the man said proudly. It was a picture of Roman with his arm high in the air, his other hand hooked in the braided rope while he was mounted on top of one of the scariest damn bulls he’d ever ridden. People had no clue that his butt was puckered and his heart was thumping hard, praying that his first time out of the chute wasn’t his last. He didn’t stay on for eight seconds—the most dangerous eight seconds in any sport—that event, but a year later, he qualified as a champion, thanks to Rowdy Basher, a bull that had made many a cowboy piss their pants.  “You were my favorite. Why’d you retire?” the man asked.