The Discreet Cowboy (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 6) (3 page)

CHAPTER THREE

NEKKID. SPURRED. AND FUCKED, all at the same time!

Dade Jarrett swore when he got his hands on the spoiled, obnoxious Felicia, he was going to drag her over his knee and teach her a valuable lesson.
Don’t piss off a cowboy.
Boss’ sister or not! He’d had about enough of being her babysitter.

A blast of cold air shot through the vent and into the small room, making his balls shrivel to the size of a chipmunk’s gonads. This wouldn’t do at all. Grabbing the thin sheet from the table, he wrapped it around his hips. “Shit!” It was the size of a baby’s blanket, barely covering the important stuff. Oh yeah…he couldn’t wait to come face to face with the woman who’d been nothing but a pain in the ass for the last two days.

He tried the handle to the door again, sending positive vibes, hoping that it would open.
No such luck.

How the hell was he in this predicament in the first place? Bigger question, how had she snuck into the building without him being aware? Was she part ninja? Sure, he’d taken a short nap after Susie had finished with his massage, like he did most times, but woke up with a big surprise. All of his clothes were gone and he was locked in. How had Felicia stolen his clothes, then managed to close the door and lock it?
Damn.
He was a little embarrassed.

His gaze fell on the piece of paper that she’d slipped under the door for him to find. He read it for the second time…

“Aren’t you a little too old to be following a girl around like a stalker? Enjoy a break on me. You can thank me later.”

Oh, he bet she thought she was real clever.

His gut twisted and he dropped the note to the planked floor, stomping it under his bare foot. He wasn’t a stalker! Just because he was following her…watching her…
oh sheesh
. Well, he wasn’t doing it because he wanted to. He growled deep in his chest and stared at his toes. She even took his boots.
Damn complicated woman!
How the hell did she even know that he’d been watching her? He thought he’d been pretty ninja-like himself. He chuckled. Who was he kidding? He was piss-poor at keeping an eye on himself, let alone another human being. He sniffed loudly and tightened the sheet around his hips. Thank God she left the cane and his hat, which he now smashed down on his head.

Pacing the small space, he debated his next move. He couldn’t stay holed up in the room until Susie’s next appointment. Somewhere in the haze of enjoying his massage, he thought he remembered her saying that she didn’t have another client until tomorrow morning.

No, he couldn’t stay here. He’d go plum crazy.

Irritated and ready to send his fist through the wall, he instead took a deep breath and went to the door, pounding hard. Again and again…and again. No one came to his rescue, and he doubted they would. Guessing that it was after nine, everyone was out of the building for the night. He could call someone, but he’d forgotten his cell back at his cabin. There wasn’t much reason to carry it around with him at Nirvana. Hell, he didn’t even have his radio. Now that sucked. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and came to the conclusion that he’d have to do what a cowboy must.

Taking a step back, he balanced himself, which was the hardest part of learning to walk again, stabilized his bad leg, and in one swift kick, he struck the door with his good foot. The wood cracked and splintered, the knob popped loudly. His hip hurt like hell and it took him a long second to recover, but the door opened and that was what he’d wanted. Freedom never tasted so sweet. He’d just have to repair the door ASAP, but not until he filled the boss in on what his sister had done.

The building was dark as he made his way down the hall, using the cane to balance his steps while keeping another hand safely on the knot of the sheet.

Peering through the door into the empty parking lot, he scrubbed his jaw. The rain was pouring down—had been most of the day—and that meant some of the areas would be muddy. He laid his forehead on the glass and sighed. He didn’t have his Gator so he’d have to walk all the way to his cabin, barefoot and with a cane—on the slippery ground. Why the hell didn’t he ever think ahead? Yet, how the hell was he supposed to know some wicked woman would lock him in a room without his clothes? He should go straight to Chase and tell him that he was resigning as Felicia’s keeper. He was a cowboy, not a manny. She was old enough to take of herself.

Dade swallowed. No, he couldn’t tell Chase. The mere thought of explaining that Felicia had dumped him—not only dumped him, but had also stolen his clothes—would make him the laughingstock of Nirvana. He’d worked really hard to get past being the ‘naive’ hand who the others liked to tease relentlessly. Most importantly, he planned to never go back to being the target of gags and bantering. Sure, they all meant well. The other hands were more like brothers than co-workers. After Dade’s accident, each of them stepped up and helped, even built a cabin that was handicap accessible. His throat constricted. He wasn’t used to the idea that he’d been handicapped. He certainly had a new respect for those who overcame physical challenges. He’d met many heroes and heroines on his path to recovery and they’d taught him to appreciate life, something he hadn’t thought much about before.

Dragging his attention back on the problem at hand, he’d get through it, but there was no doubt, not even a sliver, that when he caught up to the little heathen, he’d give her a piece of his mind. He clenched the handle of the cane until he heard the wood crack. Now was not the time to get angry. Now was the time to get smart. Considering she knew that Chase had asked Dade to keep an eye on her, there was no longer any reason to keep his distance from her. He’d be sure from this point on that he and Felicia were hooked, hip-to-hip. Hell, share dinner too. He laughed, feeling a slice of vindication. That’d teach her a lesson. He hadn’t even said more than two words to the woman, and she was driving him batty.

Outside, he stepped across the wet cement, carefully maneuvering his way through the parking lot with rain drops pounding his hat and stinging his bare back. The sheet slipped and he caught it, managing to wrap the soaked cotton around his body, but using only one hand was a bitch. The material clung to his ass like a diaper and his dick curled up inside of his body. A man never, ever, wanted that to happen.

Stay focused.
He could handle the cold, this was nothing, but the muscles in his injured leg didn’t like the lower temperature and wanted to seize up on him. The weekly therapy and massage sessions were helping though. He no longer needed a walker to get around.

The pea rocks were like jagged swords stabbing his water-wrinkled feet as he started on the lane toward staff row. He gritted his teeth and continued toward the warmth of his cabin—clothes and boots too.

He’d just started on the first hill on the road when he heard the low hum of an engine and saw a flash of headlights through the line of pine trees. He stopped and leaned onto the cane, a cramp building in his leg. Should he jump into hiding? Or wait to see who was in the cart and pray it wasn’t the boss? That wouldn’t be pleasant—not pleasant at all.

Cold, wet and frustrated, he stayed put. He was too damn tired. He wasn’t about to hide, even if he was darn close to being naked because the sheet wasn’t doing any good.

Remember. Don’t get angry. Get even.

He smiled. He was one step closer to seeing that his plans were fulfilled. Felicia thought she’d managed to shake him, but he’d show her. He knew exactly where to find the runaway. She’d made the mistake of mentioning to Susie that she wanted to check out the local entertainment. He’d give her entertainment all right. Wonder how she’d like being locked up in one of the cabins for the night?

Oh, she might have mistakenly taken him for a wet-behind-the-ears cowboy, but he knew exactly how to handle rowdy women. Having three sisters of his own and being the only son, many times they’d crossed a line with him, but he’d learned how to handle the situation. His father had taught him how to treat a woman in a way that allowed her to believe she had the upper hand. In fact, Dade knew a lot about women- what they wanted, how they wanted to be treated, not from experience, but from his sisters always filling his head with the diary of a female. They swore they made him the gentleman he was today, but Dade knew some of the credit went to his father too. He was the greatest gentleman to have as a role model. He’d always treated his wife with kindness, generosity, patience, and respect. Maybe that’s what scared the hell out of Dade when it came to relationships. He had big boots to fill if he wanted to be anything like his dad. Dade felt like a failure even before he got out of the gate.

The only serious relationship he’d ever had was with his high school sweetheart, and she broke up with him once they started planning their wedding, stating they needed to spread their wings before they settled down.
Pfft!
She wanted to spread more than her wings. Two months later, she ended up pregnant by one of Dade’s buddies. No hard feelings, though. Dade wanted her to be happy. And, well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. At twenty-five, he guessed he was still young enough not to worry about settling down anytime soon. He had every plan to stay here, at Nirvana. Paradise.

The headlights were close now and he could see the Gator was slowing, until finally pulling over into the grass. Cord, the newest hand, didn’t even blink an eye as Dade slipped into the passenger seat, tossing his cane into the back. His wet ass stuck to the vinyl and, when he shifted, his butt cheek was like a suction cup.

“Out for a stroll on this lovely evening?” Cord asked sarcastically as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. They turned toward staff row as lightning flashed across the sky, followed by thunder as if to drive home the other man’s words of the ‘lovely’ evening.

“I’d rather not talk about it. I’ll muck out the stalls for a month if you keep this to yourself.”

“Nah, just consider it a courtesy. I’ve been in similar situations myself and needed a helping hand. I’m sure I’ll need a favor one day.”

And neither of them said another word on the short trip.

Once Dade was in his cabin, he dropped the soaked sheet, gave it a good kick across the floor, and stomped to his dresser. He tossed around everything in his drawers, rummaging for something to wear, but not really seeing anything.

He was up shit creek without a paddle. Not only had he busted the door to the massage room, but he lost the boss’ sister. Hell, maybe he should just pack his things and catch the next bus out of Dodge. But he wasn’t a quitter, or a deserter. He liked being here and had every intention of staying put. He wouldn’t let a brat ruin his career.

Why did the boss’s sister have to show up? Didn’t she have fancy parties and rich boyfriends to keep her occupied?

Chase’s request wasn’t pleasurable, but Dade had a lot of respect for his boss and felt like he owed the man. While his sister was at Nirvana Ranch visiting, Dade’s task was to keep watch on her. So, Dade had done that, not asking any questions, not even sure what he was watching for, but keeping an eye on her from afar and making sure she stayed out of trouble. The sister either had a problem with keeping herself in line, or Chase was being the protective brother—maybe a little bit of both. Dade, himself, knew that no woman appreciated being treated like a child, but assumed Chase knew what he was doing. That was family business and none of Dade’s.

For the last two days, he’d stayed close, but thought he’d given her a respectable amount of space. While she was at the dining hall, he sat in the corner. When she was getting a massage, he had decently stayed outside and took a nap on the bench under the shade of an oak tree. And when she’d taken off her clothes on the dock, wearing the matching lacy bra and panties that were the perfect shade of purple…
oh fuck
! She’d done that for his benefit. She’d known, even then, that he was watching her. Now he didn’t feel so bad that he’d gotten a boner when she’d flashed her body—and what a great figure. He was a red-blooded man and couldn’t deny that a glimpse of skin had filled his fantasies since. Even now, an image of the firm, pale mounds lifted high in the lace, the shadow of hard nipples, made his dick shoot up like a lightning rod. Thank goodness for twenty-twenty vision.
Guess I’m no longer cold.

Sure, he could handle her teasing, but locking him in the room and disappearing was crossing a line. They were adults—but in her favor, she wasn’t being treated like one, having him follow her every move.

This was all bullshit. Why did Chase choose Dade for this task in the first place? Probably because he was still too weak to do much else. There were no words to describe the blast to a man’s ego when he had to rely on others to take care of him. Up until a few weeks ago, he’d had a nurse that stayed with him most of the day. He’d been beyond embarrassment when he stretched his boxers while she was rubbing his leg. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked, her or him. Dade was certain that any of the other cowboys in the same situation would have handled it with confidence, maybe even taking it a step further and kissing her. Not Dade. He’d expected her to slap him into tomorrow. She hadn’t slapped him, but she did turn three shades of red.

Soon, everything would be back to normal—as normal as things could be with a limp and scars. Hell, he didn’t mind the scars. They weren’t what was keeping him from getting back on the land. Yet his leg had good days and bad days.