Second Chance Cowboy (2 page)

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Authors: Rhonda Lee Carver

Tags: #romance, #love, #suspense, #cowboy, #rhonda lee carver

BOOK: Second Chance Cowboy
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Chance’s jaw tightened and his eyes
flashed impatience. She knew his aloof attitude slipped a
bit.


I’ll go out on a limb, but
maybe this—” He swept a hand through the air encompassing the bed.
“—proves we belong together. You know it’s not too
late.”

Carly dug her teeth into her bottom
lip. She had to wonder why he waited to say those words until after
they were divorced. He appeared so arrogant and composed, but she
saw the signs of his thinning patience. A need to provoke him swept
over her. She wanted him to feel the icy fingers of hurt as she had
over the years. The culpability of the past ate away at her insides
and now the pain had the intensity of a blazing fire.


Do you actually think one
night of sex can change two years? We could make love everyday for
a month and it still wouldn’t change the truth.”


Can we test that theory?”
He grinned and Carly’s heart skipped a beat. He engaged what she
called the ‘Taylor smile,’ an act that could melt glaciers and
barricades surrounding a cold heart.

She wouldn’t fall, not this time. She
couldn’t go back. The pain had run far too deep.

A tear crept from the corner of her
eye as the thought processed.

She closed her eyes and filled her
lungs with a needed breath. “I’ve been seeing someone. I happen to
care for him a lot.” When his jaw tightened, she knew she’d hit
bull’s-eye.

The cowboy wasn’t so calm and
collected now, was he?


That makes you an
adulteress.” He slid to the side of the bed and placed his feet on
the floor.

Red flashed before her eyes and her
blood boiled. “Kiss my ass, Chance. Chris and I haven’t—” She
stopped abruptly. She didn’t owe him an explanation. He could
believe what he wanted to. After all, she made him angry and that’s
what she’d hoped for. “Isn’t that the kettle calling the pot
black?”


I believe the phrase is
‘the pot calling the kettle black’ but okay, I get it. And no, it’s
different for me.”


Why? Because you and
Leslie never publicized you’re seeing each other?”

His bitter laugh cracked the air like
a whip.

She slanted a hip. “There are no
secrets in a town this small. How long did you think it would take
before I learned you and my veterinarian are an item?”

Chance’s amusement disappeared and he
remained quiet.

Carly squeezed her hands into fists.
“She came here yesterday morning. While she gave the mare a rectal
exam, I should have inquired how the other horse’s ass was doing.
My poor husband. How difficult it is for him to manage his inflated
ego and keep his zipper closed.”


We’re divorced, remember?”
His voice reeked of sarcasm.

She groaned in irritation. Her pulse
pounded in her ears like the beating of a drum. Her claws were
showing, even though she suspected his relationship with Leslie was
nothing more than his way of getting under her skin.

Sadly, it worked.

Chance didn’t blink an eye as he gazed
at her across the room. “Honey, I can keep my pants zipped just
fine. Problem is, you can’t keep your fingers off my zipper.” He
rubbed his palm down his face. “What a shame it came to this. I
would have liked to recap last night’s events, one slow move at a
time. I guess it’s out of the question, right?”

Carly’s palm itched to slap him, but
she restrained herself and tightened her hold on the sheet. “How do
you think it’s possible we haven’t run into each other more than
three times in the last two years?” She cocked her chin. When he
didn’t answer, she continued, “Let me fill you in. I’ve done
everything in my power to keep from bumping into you. Do you
realize how difficult it is to plan my schedule weeks in advance so
I don’t have to see you? Is that a description of a woman who can’t
keep her fingers off your zipper?”


No, more like a woman
who’s afraid she’ll forget what screwed up our marriage in the
first place, realize she’s made a huge mistake and get her ass back
home.”


Humph, fat chance that’ll
ever happen.” She fumbled with the sheet in irritation and gave her
hair a toss over one shoulder.

Damn, he did have a point, although
she’d never admit it to him.


Yeah, right, Carly,
because you can’t ever forgive and forget, can you? You think
you’re the only one who has lost, don’t you?” His eyes became
steely pools of green. His voice turned low and controlled. “I lost
Devon, too. He was my son—
our
son
.
How long are you
going to keep blaming me for his death?”

Carly swallowed the painful lump in
her constricted throat. “I don’t blame you.”


Could have fooled
me.”

He moved off the side of the mattress,
not even slightly self-conscious of his nudity. But what man would
be insecure with a body like his? Her body filled with unbridled
need.

Battling the ache in her loin, she
watched him pull on his wrinkled boxers and then tug on worn jeans.
Then she said, “We both know why I left.”


We do?” His bitter laugh
split the air with its razor-sharp intensity. “I know you want to
hold on to the belief that I’m the bad guy who drove you away, but
isn’t it time you took half the responsibility for the failure of
our marriage?” A trace of compassion softened his expression. He
tugged on his shirt and finger-combed his hair.


It wasn’t my fault you
cheated.” Once she said it, she wanted to yank the words back. Too
late, just like their relationship.


You’re a broken record,
sweetheart. It’s not worth denying the accusation any longer.
Maybe eventually you’ll believe your words and
feel justified in leaving. ”

He sat back down on the edge of the
bed and pulled on his socks and dusty cowboy boots. Dropping his
booted feet to the floor with a thump, Chance then looked at her,
his face hard and blank of any emotion.


Devon died, Carly. He’s
gone and we can’t change the truth. One of us needed to make the
decision to let him go and I made it. I held out hope you’d
ultimately find a sliver of forgiveness in your cold heart. I guess
I was wrong.”

The old wound broke open and her lungs
emptied of oxygen. She wanted to lash out at him, tell him to go to
hell, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she whispered, “I’m going
to the bathroom. When I get back I want you gone.”


Carly, you’ve become an
expert at sucking all the joy out of your life and pushing away
anyone who reaches out to you. You’re living in a self-made prison,
founded on guilt and pain, and there is no key to unlock the cell
door.”

She watched him get up from the bed,
cross the room in four quick, troubled stomps, and come to stop
directly in front of her. Rolling her head back to meet his glazed
eyes, she bit back tears.


I’m leaving now,
sweetheart.
I want to thank you for last night. It was...”
He seemed to search for the right word. “Enlightening. My last wish
is you’ll realize, before it is too late, what you’re letting
go.”


I do, Chance.” With
lowered voice, plagued with emotion, she said, “I know exactly what
I’m letting go.”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

CARLY JETTED AROUND the bathroom in
haste. She took a three-minute shower and dried her shoulder-length
hair. She applied a coat of basic makeup and dressed, all in record
time.

If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late for
a meeting with the buyer for her peaches. She hated being delayed
and wanted to appear polished and professional. The sell would
prove not only to herself, but to everyone else, that she’d evolved
into a successful businesswoman.

She swept past the unmade bed and
darted a glance at the messy sheets. The crumpled linen reminded
her of her deteriorated marriage. Sadness crept over her. She
wanted to deny the truth, but it was stark and blaring inside her
head.

Chance’s final wish bombarded her
thoughts.

His last wish could screw
itself.

Why did she feel like her heart
exploded into a million pieces? She wanted to deny the truth, but
it was stark and blared inside her head. The love she had for
Chance remained.

From the moment Chance Taylor walked
into her life, she’d been caught in a whirlwind. Love, marriage,
family.

She allowed her thoughts to travel
back to the day they’d met…

Carly stood by the punchbowl with her
friends at the Fourth of July picnic when in walked
the
Chance Taylor. Muffled whispers and girly giggles echoed from the
female partygoers, married and single.

Not one woman in Shelby could resist
Chance’s good looks and charm. They flashed pretty smiles when he
walked past, hoping he’d glance in their direction. Carly’s body
heat rose when he crossed the grass toward her. He looked mighty
fine in a long-sleeved blue button-down, dark denims and black
boots.

The afternoon sun glinted off his coal
locks and his granite gaze warmed her skin. She couldn’t take her
eyes off him. A drop-dead smile curved his lips and masculinity
oozed from him. It was hopeless to resist a man who exuded virility
from every pore.

Her friends’ oohs and aahs filled the
air as he approached their circle. He gave each a nod of
acknowledgement before he’d focused his full attention on her. He’d
made a heady path down her white silk top, tight-fitting jeans, to
the cherry red points of her toes visible in the open-toed heeled
sandals she wore.

When his eyes had made it back to her
face, he’d held out a hand for her taking. “You said if I came
you’d save a dance for me.”

Carly remembered staring at his open
palm for the longest time while her girlfriends encouraged her with
words of anticipation. “I did?” She hadn’t forgotten, but she’d
wanted to play hard to get, at least a little.


That wasn’t the only thing
you promised,” he’d teased.


So, you want to learn to
line dance, huh?” She’d laughed when her friends’ collection of
sighs and laughs echoed. She knew what indecent thoughts spun
through her friends’ minds. Probably the same naughty ideas she’d
been thinking at that moment.

They danced every dance. Made love
under the stars that night. And a week later, they married. They
were known among their friends as the ‘bed to wed’ couple. She’d
been the envy of many brokenhearted women in Shelby.

She caught the cowboy.

* * * *

Carly needed to push all thoughts of
Chance Taylor to the back of her mind. They were divorced now. No
more midnight calls. No more stimulating images of him naked in her
bed, delighting her with his magical touch.

Adjusting the straps on her mile-high
heels, Carly rose to her feet. She wobbled slightly, her limbs
still weak from the night of wild sex, and strode across the
bedroom. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the full-length
mirror hanging on the wall and stopped.

Her eyes twinkled with a light that
wasn’t there yesterday. Forget anti-aging creams and repairing
serums. She’d found the fountain of youth in the shape of a brawny
cowboy. The night of passion did wonders for her pale
features.

Carly frowned. She’d have to get used
to the idea that her and Chance were now divorced.

She glanced at the clock with a
grimace. Damn.

Heading out of the room, she grabbed a
slender gold bracelet off her dresser and fumbled with the delicate
clasp as she walked toward the stairs.

Distracted, she stepped onto the edge
of the top rung, and the heel of her shoe snapped in half. She
grasped frantically for the banister, but her hand slipped on the
polished wood and her body lurched forward.

Her scream echoed off the white walls
while she bounced and rolled down the steep hardwood stairs. The
tumble brought her shoulders hard against the steps and her body
involuntarily plunged downward.

She landed in a heap at the bottom.
Her breath swooshed from her lungs. Her groan came from deep within
and she slowly opened her eyes.

Staring up at the antique chandelier,
the shiny teardrop crystals twinkled and vibrated. The brightness
reminded her of Devon’s pale eyes and his toothless
grin.

Her heart pounded a heavy tempo
against her ribs until it paced. Amazingly, her anger, confusion
and guilt dissipated and her mind cleared. She still loved Chance.
She swore that if she lived, she wouldn’t waste another minute on
sorrow. She’d make her cowboy her husband again.

A flash of white caused her to
blink.

She attempted to rise but stopped when
a sharp pain shot through her head. She reached around and gently
probed the lump forming at the base of her skull.

Her stomach twisted and nausea crawled
through her intestines. A last image bombarded her mind before
everything faded to black. “Chance,” she whispered.

* * * *


I’m glad you came,
Chance.”

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