The Cowboy and the Cougar (4 page)

Chapter Five

He was waiting at her law office the next day.

He looked luscious, of course. He was still wearing jeans and a western shirt. This time the shirt was a creamy beige that accented his golden skin tone. Could he be any more tempting?

"Mr. Sherwood’s been waiting for a while, Holly," Cindy, the receptionist, said. "Said he had an appointment."

Holly let out a harsh breath. Reprimanding Cindy would do no good. The young woman took phone calls and manned the lobby, and each tenant contributed to her salary. But each tenant who rented an office here kept his own calendar. Executive suites, the offices were called, and many sole proprietors found them an economical way to do business while keeping the professional air of a downtown building. The situation usually worked just fine.

"Is everything okay, Holly?" Cindy asked. "It’s not like you to miss an appointment."

I don’t miss an appointment…when I have one
. Holly smiled at the receptionist. "Just running late is all." Now, what to do with Jack? He’d already been waiting and to keep him any longer would look bad to Cindy. "Come with me, Mr. Sherwood."

She opened the door to her office, gestured him in, and closed the door.

"Don’t you have a home to go to?"

"Yup." He took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. He looked completely comfortable and at ease. And absolutely edible.

Damn him.

"Then why aren’t you there?"

"I have a legal problem."

"How’d you find me?"

"A little bird." He chuckled. "With a raspy voice and smoke on her breath."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Sheila. One day I’m going to revert to my teenage years and kick that woman’s ass. I could take her, you know."

Jack’s smile lit up the room. "Aw, leave her alone. Poor thing’s gonna be on oxygen in ten years anyway."

"That’s her own doing."

"True enough, but don’t blame her. I was persistent."

"Of course I blame her. She should keep my private information private."

"Sugar, your business name and address are hardly private. I would have found you eventually. Sheila just sped up the process a little by telling me you were an attorney. It was easy enough to find you after that." He leaned toward her and whispered. "I coulda googled you and found you myself."

Holly moved away. Being too close to him kept her from thinking straight. She sat down behind her desk, inhaled, and looked right at him, determined not to be mesmerized by his dark gaze.

"What is it that you want, Jack?"

"Besides you in my bed?"

A rush of heat crept over Holly’s skin. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, besides that."

"I told you. I have a legal problem."

"Which is?"

"I need a document drawn up, giving me sole custody of my son."

An anvil landed in Holly’s stomach. He had a son?

"You have a son?"

"Sugar, you look like someone just told you pigs could fly. Surely this can’t be that surprising."

"Well, I just—"

"If you’d have had that drink with me last night, so we could get to know each other, I would’ve told you all about Sam."

"And his mother?"

"Was a mistake I made seven years ago. No, I take that back. She wasn’t a mistake, or I wouldn’t have Sam. She came to me a year later. He was only a few months old. Said she couldn’t take care of him, that he was mine. So I took him."

Holly stomach was churning. Jack was not who she thought he was. He wasn’t a player, wasn’t just after sex. "Did it occur to you to have a paternity test?"

"Yep. I had it. He’s mine."

"Whatever happened to your...uh... his mother?"

"Never heard another word from her."

"Is your name on the birth certificate?"

"Yes."

"Then there shouldn’t be any problem. The mother clearly abandoned him. If you haven’t heard from her in six years, why are you worried about it now?"

"It’s something I’ve put off long enough. I need to tie up some loose ends."

"Good enough. I have to tell you though, this really isn’t my area. If you had googled me, you’d have found that I’m an estate planning lawyer. I write wills and trusts. I don’t dabble in family law."

"I want you to handle it."

"I’m not qualified. I have a rolodex full of great family attorneys who will be more than happy to help you."

"I want you."

She let out a sigh. "You’re not hearing me, Jack."

"Correction, sugar. You’re not hearing me." He stood, walked around the desk and turned her chair to face him. One long finger gently nudged her chin upward and she met his gaze. "I’ll take the referral to a qualified attorney. I want this done right. But I’m still going to be here every morning until you agree to have coffee with me. Just coffee. No alcohol. No dinner. No kisses, no sex. Just one hour, Holly. That’s all I’m asking. One hour to get to know a little about me, and I’ll get to know a little about you. If you still want to say good-bye after that, I’ll walk away."

"But I’m too old for you."

"Bullshit." His fingers glided over her jaw line to cup her cheek. The calloused pad of his thumb stroked her bottom lip lightly.

She closed her eyes. His touch felt so wonderful, so perfect.

Would it really hurt to have coffee with the guy? They had no future, but heck, some caffeine and a heavy dose of cowboy drawl sounded pretty good right about now.

Oh, she’d regret it. Spending time with him would make it all that much harder to say good-bye. God knew, though, she’d been through worse.

"All right." She placed her hand over his, still holding her cheek. It was firm, warm and masculine and made her heart flutter.

Okay, that was a mistake.
She brushed his hand away from her face and dropped her own to her side and stood. "Let’s go."

They ended up at the coffee shop across the street, a little Mom and Pop Shop called Mocha Dreams that had, so far, stood up to Starbucks. Jack bought Holly a Vanilla Latte and he had black coffee.

"I’m a purist," he said and she couldn’t help but smile.

"So," he said, handing her the Latte and pulling out a chair for her at one of the little round tables. "Tell me about Holly Taylor."

"There’s a loaded question." Holly tried to sound nonchalant. There was both nothing and everything to tell. Her life hadn’t been that exciting.

"I’m from here originally. Where are you from?"

His grin split his face. "
Texas
."

Of course. The drawl, the persistence, the raw male beauty, his size. Everything about Jack Sherwood was
big
.

"Okay, I’m dying to ask. Why were you modeling nude last night?"

His laugh filled the room. "I was doing a favor for a friend."

"For who?"

"Mark Fleming, the teacher."

"You know Professor Fleming?"

"He’s my godfather."

This just kept getting better and better. Holly shook her head and took a sip of latte.

"So you were out late last night and up with the birds this morning. Where’s your boy?"

"Sam’s with my mom for the week, having some grandma time. Mom knew I was helping Mark out, knew I’d be out late. I’m modeling for all his classes this week, not just yours. Some are during the day."

"What do you do otherwise?"

"I run a small ranch about an hour from here, so I’m used to getting up early."

Holly shook her head again. "You’re not anything like I expected."

"What’d you expect?"

"I don’t know. Kind of a cad, you know? A guy who’d bed a woman without knowing her."

"Seems I recall the whole thing was your idea, sugar. Who was I to say no?"

"You’re right." Holly couldn’t deny it. That night
had
been her idea. She’d used him, really. It hadn’t been a nice thing to do. "I’m sorry."

He grinned. "You hear me complainin’?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Sugar, the only complaint I have is that you left without saying good-bye. I wanted to see you again."

"Like I said, Jack, I was in a bad place then. I needed something. Someone. You were there and you gave me a nice memory. It meant more than you know."

"I don’t want to be a memory, Holly. I want to see you."

"I’m too old for you."

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"It’s not dumb. You’re just starting out in life, and I’m—"

"For Christ’s sake, Holly, you’re forty. You’re not dead!" He looked around and lowered his voice. "I got a bigger bang out of being with you than I’ve ever had with a woman. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Yeah, the sex was great. It was earth moving. I won’t lie to you. I want more of it. But I want to get to know you, too."

"Now you know me. I’m Holly. I’m forty. Single, never been married. I’m a lawyer who wants to draw. Enough said."

"Why don’t you want me?"

Holly’s mouth dropped open and she stared at his chiseled face. "Are you serious?"

"Well, something’s keepin’ you from seein’ me again."

"It’s...it’s the age thing, Cowboy." She swallowed. "That’s all."

"Not good enough, sugar." He stood and tossed his empty coffee cup in the nearby wastebasket. "We’re going out tonight."

"Jack, I have class."

"Mark doesn’t have a class tonight."

"It’s not Mark’s...er, Professor Fleming’s class. It’s a different class. Conceptual drawing."

"Skip it."

"No. Drawing is my passion. I don’t want to skip it."

"I’ll make it worth your while."

"Damn it, Jack. Why are you so determined?"

"I do whatever I can to get what I want, sugar. Right now, you’re it."

Holly sighed. "Tomorrow night?"

"Don’t want to wait. But tomorrow it’ll be, if that’s what it takes. The day after, I pick up Sam from my mom’s and my time’ll be more limited." He grinned. "In fact, tomorrow’s perfect."

"Perfect?" What did he have in mind? And why did tomorrow sound like it wouldn’t work? "Oh!" She clapped her hand to her mouth. "Tomorrow’s no good. I have to go to Professor Fleming’s—"

"Exhibit," Jack finished for her, still smiling. "I figured you’d like that idea so I’ll be takin’ you. We’ll have dinner first. Deal?"

Warm tingles spiraled through Holly. He understood how much the exhibit meant to her. Maybe, just maybe...

She sighed.

No.

This was only temporary. Once Jack found out the truth about her, he wouldn’t want her anymore.

Chapter Six

"How am I supposed to walk through Professor Fleming’s exhibit after that meal you just fed me?" Holly patted her full tummy. "You’re going to have to roll me out of here."

Jack’s husky chuckle was too low to resonate over the din of the restaurant, but Holly felt its vibration. Very sexy. Then again, everything he did was sexy.

"You do like a good steak, don’t you, sugar?"

"Yes, I do."

His smile was pure sin. "So many women these days won’t eat red meat. Heck, they won’t eat anything but rabbit food."

"Well, I enjoy eating," Holly said, "and life is too short not to do the things we enjoy."

"True enough," Jack agreed.

He had no idea how true. The man hadn’t even hit thirty yet. The whisper of a chill skittered up Holly’s neck. She hated thinking about his age. Thinking about his age led to the myriad reasons they could never be together long term. That saddened her, truly. She liked this man more with every minute she spent in his company. He was so much more than a hot cowboy. He was a father, a son, a rancher. Her lips curved. A nude model.

She had to end it tonight. The more time she devoted to him, the harder the heartbreak would be when it ended.

And it would end. That was inevitable.

"So you ready?" Jack said.

Holly nodded and rose. "Yeah, let’s go. Thanks so much for the dinner."

"My pleasure." He stood and helped her with her light sweater. "The gallery’s only a block away. Nice night for a walk."

She nodded again. "I’d like that."

"You okay, sugar? You sound a little down all of a sudden."

Just thinking about turning you loose tonight.

She sighed. "I’m fine, Jack. Just a little tired. But I don’t want to miss this exhibit. I’m a huge fan of Professor Fleming’s work. I hope this exhibit will be his big break."

"He’s hoping so, too." He took her hand and guided her around the tables and out the door of the restaurant.

He continued to hold her hand as they walked. The spring night was balmy and downtown
Denver
was hopping. Every woman who passed them seemed to be checking Jack out and Holly couldn’t help but wonder what they thought of her, the older woman, on the arm of the hot young cowboy. Her skin prickled with conspicuousness. They didn’t talk during the short walk and Holly breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the small gallery.

A hostess greeted them with glasses of wine and a tray of hors d’oeuvres, which Holly declined. She was so full from dinner she might never eat again.

"There’s Mark," Jack said, gesturing. "Want to go say hi?"

Holly shook her head. "I’m sure he’s busy."

"Not too busy for his favorite godson." Jack pulled Holly along behind him as he made a beeline for Professor Fleming.

"Jack, good of you to come," Professor Fleming said as they approached. "Meet my agent, Mary Rivers."

A small blonde woman held out her hand. Jack shook it, and then said, "This is Holly Taylor."

 
"A pleasure, Ms. Taylor," Professor Fleming said. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

Holly cleared her throat. "I’m in your perceptual drawing class at the community college."

"Ah, yes, that’s it." He reddened just a bit, but Holly noticed. "Then you were there when Jack—"

"Yeah, she was, but that’s not how we met, so get your mind out of the gutter." Jack exchanged a smile with the older man.

Holly’s cheeks warmed. Get his mind out of the gutter? If he knew how they’d actually met, he wouldn’t think the whole nude model thing was that bad.

She stifled a giggle. "I’m really excited about this exhibit, Professor."

"Please, call me Mark and I hope you enjoy it," he said. "I know Jack’ll take good care of you."

"Count on it, Mark," Jack said, then excused himself and Holly and led her to the first wall of oil paintings.

Holly didn’t enjoy abstracts much, so she was glad Mark had only a few in his exhibit. She much preferred landscapes and portraits. She drank in the colors, the textures, examining each painting closely, then from farther away.

"Wow," Jack said beside her, his warm breath caressing her neck.

"What?"

"You’re looking at each one like it’s unique."

"Each one is unique, silly."

"That’s not what I meant. Heck, I don’t know what I meant. It’s just...beautiful, the way you sink into the art, like you’re becoming one with it."

"I kind of am, I guess. I love art. I always have. I should have learned to create way before now, but—" She sighed. "—life gets in the way sometimes. Decisions get made for the wrong reasons."

Jack said no more and Holly went on to the next painting. It was a little boy on a chestnut horse. Clad in jeans and cowboy boots, he looked to be about five or six years old. Mark had captured his youthful beauty with tiny strokes of the brush. The child’s dark hair and eyes gazed outward, as if he were looking through Holly.

"Gorgeous," she said under her breath.

"You like that one?" Jack said.

"Yes, it’s wonderful. The horse and the child almost seem like one being and the child’s innocence is depicted so beautifully. I can’t believe Mark is only now showing this stuff."

"Oh, I think it’s kind of like you said. Decisions get made. He didn’t decide to get serious about his own work until later in his life."

"That’s sad. I hope this exhibit is successful. In fact, I think I’d like to buy this painting."

"I don’t think that particular one’s for sale, sugar." Jack handed her the program. "It’s not listed."

Holly leafed through the pamphlet. He was right. "Shoot. Well, I’d like to support my professor. I’ll have to find another, I guess."

Holly chose a painting of an older woman gardening. It didn’t move her quite as much as the little boy on the horse, but it was beautiful nonetheless and the color scheme would look great in her loft. She and Jack said goodnight to Mark and took the downtown shuttle back to Holly’s loft.

Jack smiled as he entered the passcode. They took the elevator up and she fished her keys out of her purse and handed them to Jack.

Why had she handed the keys to Jack?

It had been an unconscious move on her part. Weird.

He unlocked the door and followed her in. He set the painting on the floor and smiled at her.

That gorgeous, sexy, heart-stopping smile.

Oh, she was a goner now. She knew exactly what he was after and she wanted it, too.

Was one more night with him too much to ask? Another night of mind-numbing sex that she could remember when it was all over?

"Jack—"

He pulled her to his body, gripped her cheeks with his warm hands, and lowered his mouth to hers.

His full lips were smooth and firm, laced with the lusty spiciness of the Petite Sirah they had drunk at the gallery. Slowly they slid over hers, kissing, caressing, urging, until Holly had no choice but to open to him. The kiss was slow at first, thoughtful, unlike their previous encounters, but its depth evoked powerful emotion from her head to her toes. His lips were numbing, drugging, and they carried her to a place where she felt, for a moment, a happy ending might exist for them. She allowed the illusion to saturate her mind and gave herself freely to his leisurely passion, meeting his gentle tongue with her own, exploring his sweet mouth with a soft fervor.

It was a beautiful kiss, unlike anything she’d experienced. One hand remained firmly on her cheek and his thumb caressed her as though she were made of fine porcelain. His other hand trailed down her neck and made her shiver as he gently massaged her nape. Such wonderful, talented hands.

The kiss continued. He didn’t touch her breasts, didn’t pull her closer into his arousal. She fought her own desire to grind into him, to unbutton his shirt and trail her fingers over his sculpted chest, his copper nipples. Instead she reached upward and tangled her fingers in his silky hair.

Holly lost track of time. Had it been only minutes? Or maybe half an hour? Still his lips held her in thrall and the kiss chorused like a symphony through her veins. Perfect.

The perfect kiss.

Her nipples puckered against her bra and moisture trickled between her legs. Still he kissed her lips and nothing more.

When he finally pulled his mouth from hers, he looked down at her, his eyes burning, and smiled.

"Holly," was all he said.

She wanted to tell him what that kiss had meant to her, that she would cherish it always. She parted her lips, but no words emerged.

"Sugar, that was the best kiss of my life."

"Oh, Jack, me too."

His fingers still caressing her cheek, he said, "I’m glad to hear that. Glad this isn’t just one-sided."

Holly widened her eyes. "How could you think that?"

"You don’t seem to want me like I want you."

Holly touched his lips, swollen and wet from the kiss. This man was so beautiful "Wanting you isn’t the issue, Jack. It never was. How could any woman not want you?"

He kissed the tips of her fingers and then gripped her shoulders and pulled her against his body. His arousal poked into her belly.

"Feel that? That’s me wanting you, Holly. That’s me dyin’ to make love to you."

"I—"

"Please. Please let me take you to bed tonight."

Holly closed her eyes and buried her head in his hard shoulder. He didn’t know, but she had already made her decision. She would take him to bed.

Tomorrow she’d tell him good-bye.