Tempting the Cowboy (16 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Driving through tears wasn’t something Rylan had any experience with. It was harder than she’d thought, like driving through rain but without windshield wipers to take the blurriness away. No matter how many times she swiped at the burning little rivulets, new ones came. All this crying was turning her into a girl. Where was Rylan the cop when she needed her?

A parking lot came into view on her right, along with a broken neon sign flashing
Tap
. Whatever the word was in front of it, she couldn’t tell. Making one last desperate slap at her eyes, Rylan parked next to the bar and killed the engine. When Tucker had raced after her back at the ranch house, Rylan thought he would try to stop her from leaving. Instead, he’d slipped twenty bucks in her hand and told her to get out of there for a while—to go to Greenbrook and have a drink. She had better things in mind, like coming up with all the ways she wanted to kill Cole Haywood for turning out to be a bastard.

A bastard she was in love with. A bastard who’d done to his wife exactly what Peter had threatened to do to her.

I’m not Peter
, he’d said.
Right.

The strains of country music rolled out of the small bar onto the street when she finally drummed up the nerve to open the bright-red door. What the hell, she’d gotten accustomed to having feelings since coming to Montana; she might as well make peace with bars, too, right? People milled in and out, a mixed crowd from what she could see, from college-age kids to men with graying temples.

She got carded at the door and felt good about it for a minute, then slipped into a chair at a small round table in the corner. The patrons around her laughed, talking and sloshing drinks. It was a rowdy crowd that hooted and complained when the DJ took a break and roared when he started playing again. Noise from the pool tables in the back mingled with the music, soft green light washing over her table from the overhead lights. The only thing missing were a handful of huge television screens playing Wisconsin Badgers football, as they had in every bar back home.

A waitress came by in a tiny black T-shirt. Hitching an eyebrow, Rylan had to squint to make out the silver lettering across the girl’s boobs.
Tit for Tap
.

“Get you something?”

“A big stick and some duct tape?” Rylan had no idea where that came from. She must be finally ready to have that nervous breakdown. The quip did nothing to stop the pounding ache in her heart. The waitress just smiled and set a napkin down.

“Ah, boyfriend trouble, huh?” Trouble? That was one way to put finding out the man you were sleeping with was a douche-canoe. Rylan nodded and said she didn’t want anything at the moment—but that was mostly a lie. She wanted to know why life was doing this to her. Just when she’d started to let go and enjoy life—to let life fucking happen—Cole had to be…no different from her.

Rylan tapped her forehead with a finger as that little nugget took hold. How many times had she wished she’d had Peter’s connections so she could turn the tables on him? She’d daydreamed many times about making his hooker fetish public, and she would have if she’d had hard evidence like pictures or something. She’d been too scared of what he’d do if he caught her digging deeper for proof.

The only difference between her and Cole was that he actually had the resources to do what she’d only fantasized about. Damn, that was bitter crow.

“Get you a drink?” A shadowy body slipped into the chair across from her. Rylan almost laughed at how young he was. His dark hair was parted on the side, and Rylan was pretty sure he’d ironed his T-shirt smooth. A frat boy through and through. She crinkled her nose to hold back a snarky reply.

“No, thanks.” She hoped her curt response would discourage him but wasn’t surprised when it didn’t. His lower lip protruded with an easy smile while his hands cupped his beer bottle. Rylan noticed how smooth his hands looked in the soft bar light, how neatly trimmed and filed the nails were. So opposite from Cole’s rough working hands…and so unappealing to her.

“You from around here?” He scooted the chair a bit closer.

“Maybe.” She was just plain irritated now. Whatever rationalizations she’d been making with herself were slipping away. Frat Boy didn’t catch on to the disinterest she put on her face. Beer-soaked bucks like him usually didn’t. She’d had to intervene at more than her share of fights between stupid young college boys back in Madison.

“Thanks for the drink offer, but I need to get going.” Rylan urged him to get out of her way with a nod of her head.

He laughed. “What’s your hurry?” One manicured hand snaked over and gripped her knuckles. Big brown eyes looked hard into hers. Steely cold crackled in Rylan’s veins. She was tired of being toyed with and done with holding back when she should be standing up for herself. The light of inebriation glowed bright, mixed with a fierceness that surprised her. A round of snickering came from her right. She didn’t have to look to know his boy groupies were standing at the bar watching. The skin tingled at the base of her neck. The bar was getting more crowded by the minute, her path to the door blocked by a fresh string of bodies. For a moment, she had a flash of running through a crowded bar, her service weapon ready as she’d chased the rapist through the mass of bodies. He’d stopped against a wall, turned, and aimed…

Rylan tried to pull her hand back, but Frat Boy held tight. She cleared her throat calmly. “Let go.” Where the hell was the bouncer who’d carded her at the door? It didn’t matter, really. The hard-edge that had kept her sane through the shit of her career and personal life was still there, just waiting to be let out.

“Ah, come on, babe. Just one drink with me, huh?” He leaned in. The stench of old beer washed over Rylan’s nose and mouth. The tiny flame of anger inside her flickered brighter. She had no doubt she could handle this ass-wipe. It had been a while, but the I-am-woman-feel-my-fist part of her psyche that had kept her alive as a cop brewed to the surface.

“Nope,” she replied. Rylan stood, her hand still captured in his. She’d never stopped being scared after one gunshot changed her life. She’d quit law enforcement after taking that bullet, had let it take her ability to be strong with it. Peter had capitalized on that, but no one ever would again. Moving carefully, Rylan slid the chair back with her foot. She tugged her hand again, still trapped.

“Here’s what happens next,” Rylan said evenly. “You’re going to let go of my hand by the time I count to three or I’m taking you down.”

“Hell, yeah!” His jubilant cry accompanied a suggestive swivel of his hips.

“One.” Rylan took a little step back. He followed her. “Two.” Not waiting, Rylan slammed her fist between the kid’s eyes. The bridge of his nose crunched beneath the pressure. Her left knee rocketed into his balls, and he screamed, releasing her. Rylan shoved him as he scrambled to grab his nose and his groin at the same time. He fell backward into the crowd of bodies that bucked to get out his way like a school of terrified fish.

Her heart rate hadn’t even kicked up. Rylan looked at the kid, not a single ounce of fear inside her. She was steeled, in control, and it felt damn good. The murmurs of the crowd turned into cheers and heckles, one voice breaking through.

“Hot damn. Well done, sweetheart.”

Cole was reluctant to get any closer seeing how Rylan had one hell of a fist on her. He’d stood close enough that he could have intervened if she’d needed it, but hell love her, she hadn’t. The sneer she gave him now was more unsettling than her brilliant show of super-cop powers. He deserved it.

Rylan tried to push past him, but he turned just enough to stop her. “What are you doing here, Cole?”

“We need to talk.”

“I seem to recall you mumbling something when I met you, about not even being able to have a drink without work interrupting you. I think I know how you felt.” She grabbed her purse, dug out her keys, and plowed her way past him this time. Cole lightly touched her arm. She jerked away, very clear danger on her face. This don’t-mess-with-me side of her was impressive and made him all the sorrier for being an asshole.

“Tucker rode with me and drove your truck back with the spare key.”

Her head whipped to the side, her eyes throwing daggers. “So, you’re forcing me to stay here and talk to you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Rylan crossed her arms. At least she’d put her fist away, for now. “You have a great way of forcing people to do what you want them to, don’t you?”

“Dammit, Rylan, that’s not fair.” He deserved her anger, but it was still hard to process. The disappointment and uncertainty in her expression hurt. “I’m leaving tomorrow for the mountain, and I don’t want this hanging between us.”

“I trusted you.”

“You can still trust me, Rylan. I swear… When I made that deal with Livy, I’d never even considered that it was going to hurt anyone. I was terrified of feeling what you feel over Rachel. Having her ripped away from me… God, Rylan, I know I didn’t handle it the best way, but I couldn’t lose her.”

The crowd was mingling around instead of dispersing the way he’d hoped. He’d been to this bar enough times to know how the crowd loved to latch onto anything juicy—a bar fight, a lover’s spat, drunk women taking their bras off. Pissed-off ex-cops breaking frat boys’ noses. Rylan fell silent, and it flagged his concern. He knew she probably hated him a little bit right now for mixing her past with the present.

“Rylan.”

She shook her head and made her way to the door, pushing it open with both hands and stepping out onto the sidewalk. Cole followed, her continued silence killing him.

“Don’t shut me out, dammit.”

“Does it matter?” She rubbed her neck with a hand.

“Yes, it matters. Stand up to me. Tell me what you feel.” He wiped a palm over his mouth and took a step closer when she sneered at him.

“Stand up. To. Me.”

Her hands flew in the air above her head. “I can’t!”

He grabbed her then, his fingers curling into the firm flesh of her upper arms. She jerked at the contact, her hands coming up to try to peel his grip away.

“You can. Yell at me. Tell me I was wrong! You can stand up to me, Rylan.”

“I can’t because I would have done the same thing.” Her voice growled into his ear. “I had to ask myself, if I’d had enough money or influence to make Peter hightail it out of our lives, would I have? The answer is yes, I would have, just to keep Rachel with me.”

Cole let his hands fall down her arms, her words grounding him. Carefully, he pulled Rylan in until she rested stiffly against him. He embraced her; she didn’t hold him back.

“I’m going to make it right. For Livy and Birdie.” He could feel her tension ease away with the words. Cole pressed his face to her hair, willing her to soften in his arms. “I don’t want to be the type of man that does the wrong thing, Rylan. I was just so desperate to keep her. And right now, I’m pretty desperate to keep you, too.”

She melted into him then, her hands sliding up his back and crossing over his ribs. Then she was on tiptoe, pulling his head down for a desperate kiss.

“Let’s go.” He pulled her into the truck he’d parked just outside the door and drove like a bat out of hell away from town, out to the quiet country road that led home.

Rylan gripped his right hand in both of hers, sitting so close her hip and thigh burned into his, very nearly robbing him of all ability to concentrate on the road. Her thumbs stroked the top of his hand and his palm in tandem, drowning him in sweet, sweet electricity. Cole wished she’d say more, but took her touch and proximity for the forgiveness they were.

Rylan released one of her hands, her palm covering the top of his thigh. Even in the dim light, Cole could see the flash of silver in her eyes and the soft, sensual smile on her lips. Her hand slid up, her fingers digging into his inner thigh right before her nails raked slowly over his jeans. A sudden, blasting heat covered his cock when she cupped him, pressing hard against his rigid flesh.

“Jesus, Rylan.” She massaged him, her thumb still tickling his palm, and it was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t crash the truck. He cut the normal twenty-two-minute drive from town down to eighteen, pulled in behind the house, and came to a stop. They were both out of the truck in two seconds flat, inside the house and tiptoeing like naughty teenagers to his room. Cole ushered her inside, locked the door, and was grabbed, two hands on his shirt, pulling him to the bed before he even had a chance to turn on the light.

Chapter Nineteen

Cole was much easier to push onto the bed than she’d figured. He was being easy on her, but it didn’t matter. When he lay back, his arms crossing behind his head with a willing expression on his face, Rylan had him exactly how she wanted him. It really didn’t matter how he’d gotten there.

He scooted back so she could straddle his waist and slip the shirt over his head. Her fingers found the hard, cut lines of his chest and abdomen. With a wicked smile, she moved down his thighs and smoothed a palm between his legs. Cole groaned but lay still, even when she worked the buttons and zipper of his jeans, opening the waistband down. He kicked off his boots as she pulled the denim away, throwing the jeans somewhere when they finally cleared his long legs.

Without warning, she placed her hands on the tops of his thighs and leaned low, taking him in her mouth in one hot slide. Cole’s hands wound in her hair, his hips shifting up in surprise. Trying to ignore her own blazing desire, Rylan clenched her thighs and focused on the texture of him and the deep sounds of his pleasure. She licked him up and down, used her lips to pull his cock from base to tip. Small beads of moisture formed at the tip, and Rylan whisked them away with her tongue, her hand cupping his balls.

A sharp gasp was his reply as Rylan moved her mouth faster, pressed him harder with her lips. She grabbed his hip with one hand, holding his cock steady with the other while riding him with her mouth. Cole cried out and grabbed her softly beneath the jaw to pull her up.

“Ry, I’m going to…no, no, no, not like this!” He sat, gripped her under the arms, and pulled her up the length of his body. Rylan shrieked at the sudden power of the move and found herself flat on her back.

His taste was potent and heady on her lips, and she craved more. Her body thrummed with need for him, the constantly building ache between her legs making her thighs clench to hold back. She splayed her fingers through the soft, black hair covering his chest, weaving through it with soft strokes until the tight, hard lines of his abdomen met her. His body was a perfect composition of strong muscles, beautifully curved bone and soft skin. Touching him was a gift, one she would hold dear for the rest of her life.

Cole brushed his mouth across hers, stopping to tease the corner of her mouth with a little kiss before brushing to the other side to do the same. She smiled under the soft ministration, tipping her chin to take his lips when he pressed in for a deeper, openmouthed kiss. One hand slid to her belly, smoothing the fabric of her nightshirt over her quivering skin. His fingers shifted lower, teasing her with the promise of a touch where she wanted him the most. His palm whispered over her curls, making her hips jerk, before his hand worked back up and wiggled her shirt up over her belly, her ribs, her breasts. Each movement of fabric and flesh on flesh left a cold trail that was quickly replaced by Cole’s heat.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whip the shirt off her body, his mouth stroking sweet pleasure from hers as she lay back down. His fingers raked down from the top of her scalp, letting big handfuls of her hair slide through his fingers. Shivers burst into desperation. Rylan grabbed his wrists, her legs parting wide. Cole gripped her shoulders before running his hands to cup her breasts. When he teased her nipples in tandem, Rylan shook her head and pushed her palms against his ribs.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Cole chuckled, moving one knee between her legs, followed by the other. His hips lowered and rocked back a little. Rylan ran her hands over the rippled muscles in his arms and glanced down at the same time he pressed the length of his erection against her sex. Heat permeated her folds, burning against her demanding clit.

“Jesus!” She grabbed his waist and dug her nails into his hard flesh as her hips tipped up and allowed his length to run straight down her center. Cole made a greedy sound, pressed his lips for an equally greedy kiss. She whimpered, curled her fingers around his firm ass. So needy…

Rylan turned her head slightly to break the seal of their lips. “I need you in me, now!” He grabbed her gaze. The heat and tenderness in his eyes stabbed straight through her, welling up to clench her heart as he nudged her thighs farther apart and slid into her in one long thrust. All the air left her in a rush and a loud moan.

“Shh… We’re not outside this time, sweetheart.”

Rylan bit her lower lip. When Cole slid his fingers between their bodies and found her nub and rubbed it with just the right motion, just the right pressure, she nearly suffocated from holding her voice back.

Then he moved. Slow, slick, each withdrawal and every slide back in forcing her body into a fast climb. She was surrounded by it, saturated in mind-twirling sensation until her clit and her brain threatened to implode. Her orgasm forced the clog from her throat, and there was no quieting the cry that shattered with her body. Cole buried his face against her cheek with a deep, primal groan while he followed her in release. Rylan wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs clinging tightly to his hips. They lay there for long minutes, breathing hard, pulses racing.

His comforting weight relaxed on top of her, his fingers strumming through the ends of her hair. She shifted beneath him. Cole groaned and flipped to his back, then reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. Soft light showed just how tired, and incredibly sexy, he was. He reached to the floor, producing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, and tossed her the shirt. He slid into the sweats, slowly, much to her enjoyment. The longer it took Cole to cover up that amazing body, the better. The shirt smelled like laundry soap and Cole when she pulled it over her head.

He turned the light back off and pulled her possessively against him as they settled into the bed. Rylan turned in his arms until his breath washed over her lips. She marveled at the sculpted strength of his arms as they held her. Would she ever get used to this feeling? His hair curled up just a bit as she ran her fingers through it. As comfortable as this was, she knew he had to be up early, and that getting caught in his bed was the last thing either of them wanted. Rylan eased out of his arms.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled.

“I should go.”

One strong arm braced across her middle. “Stay. Let me hold you.” Despite how she warmed at that, she hesitated.

“What if someone finds out?”

He pulled a piece of hair away from her face. “Then I’ll explain that it’s perfectly acceptable for me to be in bed with the woman I love.”

Rylan’s body went cold, a hum starting low in her ears. “What?” Her pulse kicked up. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then the middle, and then the other side, soft words punctuating each kiss.

“I. Love. You.” Cole smoothed his hand down her arm to her hand and wound their fingers together. Rylan searched his eyes in the dim light as shock squeezed hard and then let go. The moment took on a rightness that left her lighter, freer than she’d felt in longer than she could recall. It was the type of feeling she’d been hoping for. It felt like a second chance, and she wasn’t going to hold back or overthink it. She wasn’t going to let it slip away.

“I love you, too.” Her lips tingled as the words tumbled out. There was no hesitation, just the truth she felt down to the deepest part of herself. She expected to find peace through hard work at Paint River, not in the arms of a man who completed her in a way she didn’t know was possible.

“I’ll take that over just blowing off steam any day, sweetheart.” Cole’s kiss scorched her to her very toes. “I’m burning that damn handbook when I get back. Sound good?”

She snuggled back against him. “Handbook?”

He pulled the covers over them. “You never read your employee handbook, did you, Rylan?” Cole yawned, and she followed suit.

“No.”

He settled her against his chest, comforting her with the strong embrace of arms she’d never get tired of. “Good girl.”

…

Rylan woke to streams of new daylight filtering in Cole’s open window and a bundle of something warm and soft pressed against her chest. Cole’s long body was wrapped around hers, his face pressed against her back. She blinked slowly, reveling in the sensation of waking up next to him. It felt so right.

She stretched her arms, bumping the pillow or whatever was pressed against her other side. It stirred and yawned. Rylan shrieked. Birdie lay in a little ball on top of the covers. Her bottom was pressed against Rylan’s chest, blond hair spilling over her shoulder. Cole shifted behind her, giving Rylan the sudden impression of being a sandwich. Trapped between the two people she longed to make her own.

Cole hitched up on an elbow and looked over her shoulder.

“Would you look at that?” His soft voice was pleased. “Little Birdie.”

“Bed-hopping again.” Rylan smoothed Birdie’s hair away so she wouldn’t pull it between their bodies.

“Always,” Cole lamented with a yawn. “This saves me some trouble. Wake her up.”

It was barely 6:00 a.m., too early to wake a five-year-old who would likely refuse to nap later. Cole sat on the side of the bed and threw on a shirt. He tossed Rylan a robe with a wink. As she wiggled into it, Cole came around the bed and picked Birdie up.

“Wake up, baby. Let’s show Ry our surprise.” Cole jostled the little girl gently, and she blossomed awake against his shoulder. “Daddy and Tuck have to leave soon, so come on now. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Grabbing a small afghan to cover Birdie, they went outside into the shiny, crisp new day. Still groggy from great sex and deep, comfortable sleep, Rylan took in a big breath of cool mountain air and felt her soul expand. When Cole stopped beside the old herb garden, her soul almost burst.

“See!” Birdie squealed, wiggling to get out of Cole’s arms. “They’s pretty!” Three scraggly rosebushes filled the space, four pale-pink rose heads dropping under their own weight. A little sign sat in the middle of the plot, spelled in big, hand-carved letters.
Rachel Roses
. Someone—Birdie with Cole’s help, Rylan guessed—used a black marker to put an apostrophe and an
S
at the end of
Rachel

“I ordered some wood chips from the mill, and they had these in the greenhouse. Rachel tea roses, they’re called. It’s late in the year, but we’ll mulch them good…”

Rylan threw herself at Cole, and he grabbed her with greedy arms, lifting her onto his waist as she hugged him hard. He petted her hair while his lips murmured his love, and Rylan wanted to die from the pressure in her chest. She didn’t deserve this, any of this, yet she loved it so much.

Birdie pulled on the edge of Rylan’s robe. “They’re for your little girl. So we remember her.” Cole grabbed Birdie with one arm and lifted her up, too. Rylan squealed and laughed, sure he’d fall from their combined weight. But he didn’t. He held them tightly while Rylan looped an arm around Birdie and kissed her hair.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said, a tear falling down her cheek.

Cole pulled her in for a kiss. “Sweetheart, you already have.”