Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (11 page)

A slap on his shoulder made him jerk from his reverie.

Tommy Newlin grinned at him. Mud was streaked from his hairline to his jaw, as if he’d recently wiped away sweat and left behind the residue. “You got it bad for that girl, Davis.”

Christian gave him a quizzical smile. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“That little Curlilocks in the Buick. You’re head over steel toes for her.” The widower stared at Christian knowingly, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“No idea what you’re talking about. We’ve been working together on the Langley Ranch. That’s all.” He accepted a shovel from another worker with a nod.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that story before. Seems to me I lived it. A teen working at a fast food restaurant with a certain girl I couldn’t take my eyes off.”

“How’d that end?”

“Married her.” Tommy’s expression darkened, though he held his smile. His wife had died a few years ago after an extended illness. Christian had never asked many questions, but now he wondered if he should, for Tucker’s sake. How long did it take to move on after a man lost the love of his life?

Christian peered at Tommy, a half smile on his face in response to his friend’s.

“When they turn their heads to keep looking at you, you don’t let them go, Davis. Now get your mangy ass back into that hole. Clock’s tickin’.”

After two chili dogs, a big soda and a grueling nine hours on the road crew, Christian headed to the ranch. As he wound through the hills and valleys that led from town to Tucker’s land, he thought of Claire and what Tommy had said.

What did she feel for him, if anything?
Maybe it’s time to find out.

On autopilot, he navigated the road that ran along the creek for a mile before it spilled onto Tucker’s land. Every wisp of a smile Claire had ever graced him with lined up in his head until there were dozens. Evidence that Tommy may be right?

A dark voice in the back of Christian’s head whispered that it was Tucker she loved—Tucker was the reason she was helping with the animals.

Then why have I collected so many of her smiles?

He drew his big soda cup to his lips and slurped the last through the straw. By the time he reached the ranch, he had gained a bit of self-confidence.

What could Tucker offer that Christian couldn’t? Yeah, Tucker had tons of land, a house, and obviously money wasn’t tight, if the pristine state of the outbuildings were indications. But Christian had a place to live, a steady income and more where that came from thanks to his trimming business.

He had humor and an easy-going nature that always had drawn women to him. But would it be enough to draw Claire to him? Did he want to?

Losing Tucker’s friendship wasn’t an option. Hell, Christian had long ago admitted to himself that he loved the man. Trouble was, he was starting to love Tucker’s woman too.

Clamping his fingers on the steering wheel, he squeezed until his muscles shook. Barely harnessed energy and excitement roiled through his system, snapping in his senses.

Drawing a deep gulp of the country air streaming through his truck window, he cut the engine and climbed out. He looked to the sky for an estimation of the time. In a little while Claire would bump up the drive. If he got up enough courage, he would soon find out how serious she was about him.

What if she told him “thanks but no thanks”?

No time to think of that. He needed a shower and there were a few chores he needed to see to before she arrived. Hard work—heavy lifting he didn’t want her to attempt to help him with.

He stretched his arms overhead to work out the kinks in his back. Christ, this double physical labor was catching up to him. If he had the opportunity to take Claire to bed again, he’d likely fall asleep.

Grabbing a sledgehammer and a length of fence stile he’d cut that morning, he headed up the hill. Yesterday a couple of the horses had been spooked by a coyote and stampeded the fence, knocking down the electric wire and breaking free. Christian had managed to get them corralled into another paddock, only after having run his ass off for an hour.

As he passed the paddock, he noted the escaped horse stood against the far fence, away from the others. “Make friends now,” he called. The horse’s tail flicked, arched high.

At the top of the hill, Christian crouched to check the power box for the electric fence. He’d turned it off last night, but he couldn’t be too careful about getting thrown on his ass by 5000 volts.

Next time the horses had the choice between a coyote or a wire surging with power, they might think twice about busting through it. That horse had limped all over the fields before Christian had caught it. After watching it carefully, he saw the horse no longer favored its leg.

From sun up to sun down, Christian was breaking his back with work. He almost wished for some really foul weather so he could have another day off from the road crew. Still, the ranch duties never ceased.

He tugged his gloves out of his back pocket and grabbed the fence gingerly. When he didn’t piss down his leg, he set about disconnecting the wires from the broken stile. A few twists of the screwdriver freed the wires. Then he set about replacing the post.

A dull ache between his shoulder blades distracted him. As soon as he finished this chore, a scalding shower had his name on it. Standing under a hot spray for half an hour sounded like the most decadent pleasure right now.

He squinted at the sun. Nope—no time to dawdle in that shower. Claire would be coming up the gravel drive soon.

Shivers started in his core, excitement building. He tapped the top of the post with the sledge, watching the base disappear into the rich, loamy earth.

The tamp of hooves brought his head up from his task. Two horses, black-and-white speckled beasts with manes flying, galloped past him in the fenced-in area beside the one where he worked.

For a moment, Christian watched their display of strength and grace. Wishing he had someone to share this with. His muscles were screaming with exhaustion, but the crisp, grass-scented breeze was in his face.

Tucker was out there running the prairie like a wild mustang too, tamed by no one. It should anger Christian more that he was left to do his friend’s dirty work. But if he were here, Christian wouldn’t have gotten a chance to know Claire.

All those smiles
.

The grinding noise of tires on gravel made his heart freeze, flip and fly out of control. With quick movements, he compressed the earth around the post with his boot then reconnected the wires.

By the time he switched on the power, Claire was wandering the grounds, looking for him. “Christian!” Her melodic voice drifted to him on the wind.

With a shake of his head, he wondered how the hell he’d gotten so lucky this time.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Davis. You don’t know how she feels yet.

Shouldering the sledge and the old post, and with the screwdriver in hand, he strode down the hill toward her.

She stood against the fence with Boomerang, watching him come. Hair loose now around her shoulders, the wind grabbing at her uniform dress. That stiff little white collar stood up as if waving at him to come on and do his worst. Tell her how he felt, shove that crisp fabric aside and kiss her throat.

As their gazes locked, they shared a grin. He came on, loping faster.

Boomerang nudged her hand, and she lifted it to absently stroke the animal’s furry head.

“So much for getting a shower before you arrived.” He tipped the things he carried to the ground and leaned them against the fence.

“Don’t let me stop you. I still need to change too. Not very easy to climb the fences in this.” She smoothed her palms down her hips, conforming the cloth to her curves.

For a moment, she just stared at him. “You look tired.”

“Am tired.”
Dog tired. But if you agree to wrap those round thighs around my head, I’ll show you just how not tired I can be.

She swayed toward him but caught herself before their bodies touched.

Words jumped onto his tongue. “I was thinking.”

“Do that often?”

“Smartass.” He huffed out a chuckle. Then he wrapped his fingers around her wrist, overlapping the digits. “Look. You waste a hell of a lot of gas and lose extra minutes of sleep coming up here every morning.”

Something shifted behind her eyes. “I’m happy to help out.” Her voice raised on the last word in a defensive echo of her posture. She extended one foot and tapped it.

“No, Claire, you misunderstand me. I don’t want you to stop coming up. I want you to start staying here with me.”

Shock washed her features clean. “What?”

“Yeah.” He wanted to look away, too worried about her rejection, but he refused to be that sort of man. “I’ve been sleeping in the guest room. Actually, I’ve been waking up on the couch fully dressed most mornings, but that’s beside the point.”

A reluctant smile twitched the corner of her lips.

“If you stay here, you don’t have to get up so early.”

“That’s all? The only reason for me to stay?”

He reeled her in by the wrist, bringing her so close that her breasts brushed his chest. Leaning over her, he whispered, “I want you to sleep in my arms.”

She dropped her head so he stared at the glossy curls inches from his nose. He ran his finger over her pulse and found it tripping out of control.

“Say you’ll try it for one night.”

“I won’t say that because I know I’ll want more.”

Her words split his heart. It opened up and tugged her more firmly inside.

He caressed her head with his lips, tasting her citrusy shampoo. His smile spread over the sun-warmed curls. “We’ll have more then.”

A heartbeat stretched between them, then she wrapped her arms around his waist. “One thing I need if I’m to stay here though.”

“Anything.” Breakfast in bed. Late-night cowgirl rides. His balls tightened.

She tilted her face up to meet his gaze. And he couldn’t help himself. He hooked a finger under her chin and drew her mouth to his. The crush of lips was sweet, filled with promise and an underlying thread of passion.

When she pulled away, she gave him another smile to add to his horde. “I come as a package deal, Christian. If I stay here on the ranch with you, so does Aunt Letty.”

“That coyote has one of the chickens!” Claire shrieked. Reddish brown feathers were scattered over the grass, and the squawking raised the hair all over Claire’s body.

“Get behind me. Where?” Christian jerked a rifle to his shoulder just as she skittered behind him. The predator was out of sight, so he started stalking forward.

A curdling squeal from the chicken ended abruptly as its life was obviously snuffed out.

“Goddamn it.” He fired a shot.

She plastered herself against his back, trembling slightly. A slight pause, then Christian swung the weapon downward and reached behind him, grasping at Claire’s side.

“Got away.”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered.

At that, he turned. “How can it be your fault? You put that hen in the coyote’s jaws?”

“I didn’t put the chickens away early enough.” She’d been lagging with this evening’s chores, her body exhausted but her mind on other things—like on Christian’s muscled chest and soul-shattering kisses.

The click of the safety sounded, then Christian leaned the rifle against the coop. Gathering her into his arms, he nestled her against that chest she ached to feel moving over her. “Not your fault. Now come on inside and I’ll make you a mean grilled cheese while you clean up.”

She shook her head. “I’ll go home tonight. I need to talk with Letty about this decision. I know she’ll want to be wherever I am, but it might unnerve her to uproot herself from her comfortable house. She’s not young, you know.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of Claire’s mouth, maddeningly close. So close that her mouth watered and her pussy pulsated. A hum of want issued from her chest unbidden.

With a swift movement, he plucked her off her feet and pinned her against the rough wood of the coop.

Heat lashed at her insides. His musky scent captured her, sucked her in. He ground his lower body against hers—thighs and denim and a thick erection. Her panties grew wet and she wished she hadn’t changed out of her uniform into jeans. Her dress would be easier access.

Christian wasn’t about to let that stop him. He gripped her thighs and hitched her upward, pressing her legs around his waist. She clung to him, rocking her aching pussy against the steel of his shaft.

When he kissed her, he scraped his rough facial hair over her sensitive skin, raising prickles of awareness. Every nerve in her body was attuned to him—his scent, taste, feel.

And God, was he a looker. Especially when he gave her that blazing, I’m-going-to-fuck-you-against-this-wall stare.

She moaned.

The barn wood covering the building at her back snagged at her shirt, heightening her experience. Suddenly she wanted to know those rough edges on her skin while Christian assaulted her from the front.