Wild About the Wrangler (14 page)

Anastasia had never seen this, which seemed incomprehensible. Mac was determined to get her out here soon. He pictured her expression when she first saw the waterfall. She'd be entranced.

Imagining her reaction as he rode, he lost track of how close they were until he felt the mist on his skin. Pulling Cinder to a halt, he glanced over at Vince. “This is too close.”

Vince grinned. “What? I can't hear you!”

“Exactly! You won't be able to hear Frank or Georgie, either, nimrod!”

Vince laughed. “Just wondered when you'd notice that!” Wheeling his horse around, he headed back the way they'd come. He stopped after about twenty yards and waited for Mac. “You were off in another world. I was beginning to think we'd end up standing under the falls before you came to.”

“I was waiting for you to stop.”

“The hell you were. What's got you so distracted, bro?”

Mac hedged. “There's a lot going on. The documentary, the wedding, the baby . . .”

“And the baby's auntie? Could she have something to do with your state of mind?”

“Look, nothing's going on.”

“Oh, I think
something's
going on. I just can't figure out what. Georgie said Anastasia came to dinner Sunday night partly to discuss her interaction with you, but then she backed off and said it wouldn't be necessary.”

“It's not necessary. Nothing's going to happen.”

“Georgie thinks different. She's convinced that her sister wants you bad.”

“We had a talk. We both agreed to keep things platonic.”

“You'd better hope she doesn't change her mind. When she's focused, she is a force to be reckoned with.”

Mac groaned. “I don't want to hear that.”

“Maybe not, but I thought you should know. Are you planning to get her out here next week and test whether she can handle the trail?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought she might be ready for that with the extra time you'll have this weekend. So when you do bring her out here, she'll love it.”

Mac nodded. “She will.”

“Georgie asked me to set a couple of ground rules, though, because this canyon can be very seductive.”

“I don't need any damn ground rules. I won't be doing—”

“First ground rule: Don't break her heart.”

“I can't break her heart if nothing happens, and it won't.”

Vince continued as if he hadn't spoken. “And the second ground rule is: Carry condoms at all times.”

M
ac hadn't come into Sadie's for lunch or happy hour, but Anastasia had hopes for later, when the band was scheduled to play. She remembered Charmaine telling her that Mac had loved to dance when he'd been a wrangler at the guest ranch. Anastasia had been too young to participate when Saturday night at Sadie's had been filled with live music and laughter.

The summer before her last year of art school she'd chosen to work for a gallery in San Antonio instead of coming home. And by the time she'd graduated, the live music had disappeared. But now it was back.

Tonight was to be a test of the band's popularity with anyone who loved to dance, because that would be important during the wedding reception scheduled in a week and a half. That meant Vince and Georgie would be there. So would Travis, who asked Anastasia to save him a dance.

She'd done that, but the man she was saving the rest of her dances for had yet to make an appearance. She'd run home to freshen up and change into a black knit long-sleeved shirt with a scooped neck and a new pair of jeans. She'd left her hair down.

Georgie had taken one look at her when she'd walked into Sadie's and then smiled knowingly. She understood the motivation for that trip home without Anastasia saying a single word.

As the band tuned up, Georgie drew Anastasia into a corner. “You're loaded for bear, I see.”

“I've been doing some thinking.”

“I can tell.”

“I let fear keep me from riding horses, and that was extremely limiting. What else am I missing out on because I'm afraid?”

Georgie's reply was hesitant. “I understand what you're saying. You have a valid point. I just remember what happened your last year in art school.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“His.”
Georgie's brown eyes flashed fire. “I could have wrung his scrawny neck for treating you that way.”

“No, Georgie, it was my fault that I allowed his behavior to derail my art. He didn't do that to me. I did it to myself.”

Her sister didn't look convinced.

“No, really. He was a creep who didn't deserve me, but I'm the one who let his rejection keep me from working. I promise you that will never happen again.”

Georgie studied her for several seconds. “You know, I believe you.”

“You do?” She was surprised and pleased.

“I don't think bravado is making you say that. It's confidence.”

“Oh, Georgie.” Her throat tightened. “That means a lot to me. Thanks.”

“You can handle Mac, but I also think he has issues.”

“Oh, I'm sure of it.”

“He's told you?”

Anastasia shook her head. “He's hinted. Something in his past spooked him, but I don't know what.”

“Knowing you, you'll find out.”

“Yep.” Anastasia gave her a quick hug. “I'm lucky to have you in my corner.”

“Always.”

“I just want to warn you that I feel the urge to break some rules. I'm an artist. We're supposed to be unconventional.”

“Gonna dye your hair pink and purple?”

“Not today.”

“Body piercings?”

“That doesn't appeal to me.” She was positioned so that she could see the door to Sadie's. “But I'll tell you what does appeal to me.”

“What?”

She nodded in the direction of the door. “Him.”

Georgie turned around as Mac walked in. “He's an eyeful, all right.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don't tell Vince I said that.”

“Never.” She sighed. “Wow, that cowboy sure cleans up good.” His black Western shirt had a silver design embroidered on the yoke and his black jeans were crisply pleated. She could eat him up with a spoon. “If you'll excuse me?”

“Go for it, little sis.”

She walked across the empty dance floor straight toward him. He'd obviously spotted her, too, because he held her gaze as she approached. “I want the first dance, Mac.”

“The name's Macario.”

She did a double take. “What?”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “It's what Mac stands for. My full name is Macario. I've decided to start letting people know, and you're the first.”

“Macario.” She rolled it over her tongue. “I like it. It's different.”

“I thought you might. That's why I decided to tell you first.”

That made her pulse leap. “Really? I'm the first to hear your real name?”

“Well, not quite. Let me qualify that. Vince has known it for years and never said anything. The other day Travis thought to ask the question and when Vince and I wouldn't tell him, he threatened to turn the mystery into a three-act play. So I told him.”

“And you assume within a couple of days it'll be all over town.”

“Only because he'll tell one person, maybe Ida, and that's all it takes. It's like touching a match to a long fuse. Eventually the flame will reach the dynamite and everything will be blown to hell.”

She smiled. “That's pretty much how it works in Bickford. Which means if I drag you out on the dance floor for the first number, which I plan to do, we'll light another fuse.”
In more ways than one.

“You'll drag me? Really?”

“Actually I was hoping you'd come willingly. I've been hearing about your dancing skills for years, and I want to see what the commotion is all about. But if I end up dragging you out there by your ear, that will feed the gossip mill for weeks.”

He regarded her with interest. “Do you like to dance?”

“Love it.”

“Are you any good?”

“Dance with me and find out, cowboy.”

His easy grin made her heart race and her stomach flutter. She knew he could ride like a dream. She was about to discover if he could dance like one, too. Assuming he made love like a dream was completely logical.

Maybe she'd find out eventually. But not tonight. She wasn't going to rush into anything. First she had to unearth the skeletons in his closet, and that would take time. Even after she knew why he was so adamant about not getting involved with her, he might stubbornly cling to his position.

But that was a problem for another day. The band launched into a spirited two-step and Mac whirled her onto the floor. He challenged her with one tricky move after another and she met the challenge, laughing breathlessly as they cleared the floor.

Although they were surrounded by people clapping to the beat, she saw only Mac, his dark eyes sparkling with fun and admiration. His touch was sure and his footwork perfect. She'd always loved dancing, but she'd never danced like this, as if she'd been sprinkled with fairy dust and couldn't make a wrong move. Like so many things connected with this man, it was magical.

The music ended and they stood there laughing and trying to catch their breath as everyone cheered and whistled.

“You should go pro!” someone called out.

“They should film you guys for the documentary!” someone else said.

“Nah.” Mac glanced at Anastasia with a smile. “That would take all the fun out of it.”

She took a ragged breath. “Right.”

He continued to gaze at her as he rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Can I buy you a beer, Twinkle Toes?”

“Absolutely.” His hand on her shoulder was warmer than sunshine and made her tingle all over. He'd never touched her for no reason before. He kept his hand there as they walked over to the bar.

Sure, the tavern was crowded, but it wasn't as if he'd lose track of her in such a small place. Instead it seemed as if he didn't want to break the connection they'd had on the dance floor. She didn't want to break it, either.

Only one stool was available and he gestured for her to take it. “I'll stand.” When Ike came over, Mac ordered them each a beer. He ordered her favorite without having to ask, too. Apparently he'd paid attention to that.

Swiveling her stool away from the bar, she gazed up at him. “That was fun.” Understatement of the year.

“It sure was. You surprised the hell out of me. I had no idea you could dance like that.”

“We used to go dancing every weekend while I was in art school. It also helps to have a good partner.” She smiled. “You more than lived up to your reputation.”

Eyes twinkling, he touched the brim of his hat. “Thank you, ma'am. I have to admit I was showing off a little. But you kept up with me.”

“Hey, my reputation was at stake, too.”

“How come I've never heard that you were so good?”

“Why would you? We haven't had live music in Sadie's since I came home from school.”

“Guess so.” He glanced past her to the bar. “Our beer's arrived.” He picked up the lighter colored one and handed it to her before taking his. Then he touched his glass gently to hers. “A toast to the best dancer I've ever partnered with.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“It's true. Drink up.”

“Okay, and thanks for the compliment.” She sipped her beer but she didn't need alcohol to get a buzz. The way Mac was looking at her would make any girl high.

“I am confused about something, though.”

“What's that?”

“I wonder why— Hang on, you have some foam.” He leaned down and gently swiped his finger over her upper lip. “Got it.” Then he held her gaze for a long, heart-pounding moment. “You do tempt me, Anastasia.”

Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. “Is that the question: You wonder why I tempt you?”

“Oh, no, I know exactly why you tempt me. It's a good thing that we're surrounded by all these people,” he murmured, “or I swear I'd forget myself.”

“I know what we said before, but honestly, would that be so terrible?”

He looked into her eyes as if weighing his answer. Then he straightened. “Yeah, it would.” He took another swallow of his beer.

She could ask him to explain that, but he wouldn't do it now. Sadie's was jumping tonight, which was good news for the town and for Steve and Myra. But a noisy saloon wasn't the place for confidences. She'd have more opportunities to talk with him privately as the week progressed.

“My question has to do with your dancing.” He had to stand close so they could hear each other.

That was fine with her. She loved admiring the way his shirt emphasized the width of his shoulders. From this angle they seemed a mile wide. As a matter of self-preservation, she didn't let her glance move down as far as his belt, though. They'd had the crotch conversation and this wasn't the place to rehash it.

She glanced into his eyes, another feature she could enjoy without blushing. “What about my dancing?”

“I didn't expect that level of skill after all the talk about you being a klutz. So what's the deal? How come you're perfectly coordinated on the dance floor?”

The man sitting on her left was talking really loud so she missed a little of Mac's question but she filled in the gaps by reading his lips. His beautiful lips. “It's the music.”

“Music makes you more coordinated?”

“Yep. I took an exercise course once and it was the same thing. For some reason music flips a switch in my brain. I focus on it and that seems to cancel out the clumsy tendencies.”

“Hmm.” He took another sip of his beer. “Do you have music loaded on your phone?”

“Sure.”

“Then what if you tried riding a trot using earbuds?”

She thought about that for a minute. “Interesting idea. I don't know if it would work or not, but if I'm listening to music I couldn't hear you.”

“That's okay. I'd rather have you find a way to tune in to the movements of the horse than to listen to me yelling instructions.”

“We can try it in the morning and see what happens.”

“It's definitely worth a shot.” He lifted the beer glass to his lips and drank.

She'd never tried to draw him actually drinking a beer. She should, because the way his lower lip curved under the rim of the glass was very erotic. She also liked how strong the tanned column of his neck looked when he lifted his chin.

That would make an interesting study, his neck, a bit of his shirt collar, the underside of his chin, and his lip curved around the beer glass.

Kissing him along the curve of his throat would be a pleasure, too. She could imagine how his skin would feel against her mouth—smooth except where his beard grew, and there she might find a hint of stubble. Right now he'd taste salty because he'd worked up a little sweat on the dance floor.

He lowered the glass abruptly and leaned down so his face was inches from hers. “What are you doing?”

Her cheeks grew warm. “I . . . um . . . had an idea for a drawing. . . .”

“Of what, for God's sake? You were staring at my neck like a vampire looking for a meal.”

“You have a nice neck.”

“So what? You want to suck my blood?”

“No, I want to . . . draw your neck and chin.”
Then I want to kiss it and lick it. And while we're on the subject, that goes for the rest of you, too.

He gazed at her as if she'd gone crazy. “Give me your beer.” He set it on the bar and put his next to it. “We need to dance.” He lifted her neatly off the stool, laid his hat on it, and led her into the throng of dancers swaying to a slow tune. Then he pulled her in close.

With almost no room to move they would have been forced together, anyway. But judging from the way he'd engineered this situation, he'd intended to hold her close. Thank goodness, because she'd wondered if he'd risk it at all tonight. He had, and she relaxed against him.

Leaning down, he nestled his cheek against hers and put his mouth close to her ear. “I don't know what to do about you,” he murmured. “It's becoming a real problem.”

“I know.” And she wouldn't apologize for it anymore. She could be a good problem to have if he loosened up.