Wild About the Wrangler (19 page)

“Okay.” She stared after him in confusion.
What the heck?

“Sure you don't want your sketchbook?” he called over his shoulder.

“No, I'd rather sit here and relax.”

He returned with two wrapped sandwiches and handed her one. “You got room on that rock?”

“Sure.” She scooted over and he sat next to her with only a couple of inches between his hip and hers. There was another flat rock a few feet away and he could have taken that, but he hadn't. Instead he was right there, within kissing range.

“You've done great so far today.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “And I figure you're hoping to talk me into taking you all the way to the creek, but that would be a mistake.”

“Believe it or not, I agree with you.” She took out half of her sandwich, which looked like a P B and J, but the bread smelled more heavenly than any she usually ate.

“You do? I thought for sure you'd want to go on.”

“That was my plan, but I've reconsidered.” She bit into the sandwich and the flavors were so wonderful she moaned.

He gave her a startled glance. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head as she chewed and swallowed. “What's in this sandwich? It's fabulous!”

“I went over to Sadie's to see Henry yesterday. He gave me the ingredients and I put the sandwiches together this morning. He's started baking his own bread, and he had some gourmet almond butter he picked up in Amarillo and a jar of homemade peach preserves from somewhere, maybe from one of the ladies in town.”

“You got Henry's help on the sandwiches for this trail ride?”

He shrugged. “Henry's the foodie around here, so when I told him I wanted something special, he came up with this.”

“And when did you talk to Henry? I was at Sadie's by about eleven thirty yesterday morning and I didn't see you all day.”

“I went over earlier because I wanted to surprise you with something special. P B and J is still the best thing if you don't want to cook on the trail, so this is essentially a fancy P B and J.”

“I love it. It's amazing.” She took another generous bite and thought about the significance of the coffee in beautiful mugs and a sandwich that had required Henry's assistance.

The care Mac had taken with breakfast, combined with the way he'd looked at her a moment ago made her wonder if he'd reevaluated his position on certain things. And here he was sitting right next to her, as if he preferred to be close.

“How come you're giving up on riding out to the creek today?” He picked up his mug from the spot on the ground where he'd left it. “I thought for sure you'd push for that.”

“I might have except for that part where I almost fell getting off. I thought for sure I could ride out and back because Charmaine did it.”

“Yeah, but she rode out one day and back the next. That's not the same as a round-trip in one morning.”

“Exactly. Plus she's not afraid of horses. Mentally, I'm not anymore, but I'm not sure my muscles got the word and they're still kind of tight.”

He nodded. “Not surprising. The more you ride, the looser you'll get, but it takes time to learn to relax, especially if you were afraid.”

“I understand that better after this morning. Oh, and another thing that's different about Charmaine and me that I didn't take into account—she works out every day. Except for those exercises I've been doing, I'm basically a couch potato.”

He glanced at her. “You don't look like one.”

“Appearances are deceiving. Charmaine has a hard body. I don't.”

“I know you don't.” He sipped his coffee and stared straight ahead. Then abruptly he stood. “Take your time finishing your sandwich. I'll go check the horses.”

“What do you need to check?”

“Their feet. They might have picked up a rock.”

It could be true. On the other hand he could be making an excuse to move away from her before he grabbed her and started in on those kisses she was certain he'd been thinking about earlier.

One thing she knew for sure. He still wanted her. But he seemed to be having trouble deciding what to do about that. She had suggestions, but she'd keep them to herself. This time it was his call.

P
lanning the special breakfast had been the beginning of Mac's mental shift. He'd had fun getting Henry to help him come up with something similar but different to what he might ordinarily have served. Then as he'd ridden the trail trimming stray tree branches, he'd thought about the invitation to dinner he'd never issued.

That night, sitting alone on his porch drinking a beer, he'd wondered why the hell he was rejecting the chance to spend quality time with Anastasia. He wasn't her knight in shining armor, and she wouldn't stick around and play house with him. So what? They could have fun together for as long as it lasted.

But he'd have to go into the situation knowing that he couldn't end it. Ever since Sophie, he'd made sure he was the first one out the door. He'd promised Vince he wouldn't break Anastasia's heart, though, so this time he had to let her walk away when it was over.

Last night as he'd polished off his second beer, he'd decided he was okay with that. Given the choice between never making love to her and being the one left holding the bag, he'd take Option B. No woman up to this point had inspired him to take that kind of hit, but she did.

Once he was clear on all of that, he'd thought about what should come next. He'd concluded that her first trail ride wasn't the time to say or do anything different. Yet she could tell his attitude had changed. He could see it in her eyes.

She was confused, as well she should be after the way he'd carried on about not trusting himself to get involved. He'd been hung up on not being good enough for her. Simple answer—he wasn't. Consequently he'd just be himself, knowing that eventually she'd move on.

In the meantime, though, he'd have the extreme privilege of making love to her. He didn't doubt for a minute that she'd let him. He'd been the one holding up the program. And yet . . . when should he broadcast his intentions?

He debated that as they headed back up the trail. He'd put her in front because she'd been over this part once and leading was a confidence builder. Besides that, he loved watching her ride Jasper. She might not be totally comfortable yet, but she'd get there.

Although he'd claim some credit for the transformation in her since Monday, so much of it was her doing. When she'd first asked for his help, she'd had no idea that he'd ask her to change her sleep patterns. She probably hadn't expected that he'd require all the grooming, saddling and bridling chores, either.

But she'd accepted the challenge and now she and Jasper were buddies. A different horse might make her nervous, but eventually she'd be fine with that, too. Tomorrow they'd take a slightly longer ride, and Sunday a longer one, yet. By Monday she'd be relaxed enough to manage the ride out and back.

Then he had another thought. If this weekend turned out the way he hoped, they could change Monday's plan. Instead of leaving first thing in the morning, they could ride out when she finished at Sadie's and spend the night in the box canyon.

Doing that would announce to several people that they were more than friends, but he didn't think it would come as a shock. Georgie and Vince were already somewhat prepared for it to happen.

When they were within ten minutes of the stable, she put up her hand like a scout in an old Western movie as she pulled Jasper to a halt. He allowed himself a smile because she couldn't see him. “What's up?”

“Coyotes,” she murmured. “Jasper heard them. I was watching his ears.”

“That's smart of you. He would hear them. They're predators.” He saw one member of the pack dash across the trail. Movement in the bushes indicated the presence of more.

“Wow, that first one was beautiful. Is a pack any sort of threat to the horses?”

“Not to a couple of strong geldings like these, especially when we're riding them. An older horse or a foal might be at risk. But Jasper and Cinder can take care of themselves.”

Jasper danced nervously as another coyote trotted across about ten yards in front of them. “I can tell my horse is not a fan.”

“I wouldn't expect him to be.” He loved that she'd referred to Jasper as
my horse.
Maybe someday he would be. “But he's trained not to react, so you don't have to worry.”

“I was only worried for him. Coyotes don't scare me. This reminds me I want to sketch one.”

“Oh, right.” He pulled out his phone. “I forgot I'm the official photographer.”

“Tomorrow I'll probably be confident enough to take pictures. Plus I really like the view from up here. You can see so much more.”

“Yeah, you can.” All he cared to see was Anastasia perched in the saddle and looking quite pleased with herself. She was concentrating so intently on the trail and the bushes beside it that she might not be aware that she was smiling. But a little indentation in her smooth cheek and the tilt at the corner of her mouth told him she was.

She'd left her hair down today—no braids to make him think of Dorothy in
The Wizard of Oz
. And God, how he loved the hat she'd borrowed from Vivian. She'd been born to wear a hat like that.

Today she had on a dark green T-shirt that she'd tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She'd taken off her jacket back at the breakfast stop and tied it around her waist. No, she definitely didn't have a hard body. She was all soft, yielding curves.

“Oh! Coyote!”

He turned but missed the shot. “Sorry. Didn't get it. I think that was the last one in the pack, too.”

“That's okay. We'll see more tomorrow or the next day. I'm going to sketch something tomorrow, too. It's good we have three days before we come back out here on Monday so I'll be used to everything.” She turned toward him with a wide smile. “Ready?”

She had no idea how ready. He'd been an idiot to pass up the chance to be with her. If he only had a week—hell, if he only had a day, it would be worth the price of eventually saying good-bye. In that moment, he knew what he wanted to do. “Do you have anything else going on this morning?”

“Nope. Just need to be at Sadie's before noon. Why?”

He glanced at his phone. Plenty of time. “Then let's take a different route back. I'd like to show you my house.”

Her eyes widened. “Now?”

“Yes.” As he looked into her eyes, he gave up any attempt to play it cool. “I want you to come home with me, Anastasia.”

Gradually the surprise in her expression was replaced by understanding.

He held his breath. Maybe he'd misjudged. Maybe after the way he'd behaved, she'd changed her mind about wanting him.

She held his gaze as a flicker of heat appeared in the depths of her amazing eyes. The flame grew stronger and a slow smile touched her full lips. “I should probably ask what changed your mind.”

“Well, I—”

“But I really don't care. I would love to come home with you, Mac.”

The breath whooshed out of his lungs. “Thank God. I'll lead.” He unconsciously nudged Cinder into a trot but immediately reined him in. “Sorry.” The way he was feeling, it was a miracle he hadn't taken off at a gallop. But leaving her in the dust wouldn't achieve the results he was hoping for.

“We can trot if you want.”

He turned in the saddle to look back at her. “We don't have to. Walking is fine.”

“How much time will we save by trotting?”

“We'd get there about twice as fast.”

“Then what are you waiting for, cowboy?” She gave him a saucy grin. “I'm as eager to get there as you are.”

Lust slammed into him so hard that if he'd been carrying a condom like Vince had told him to, they'd be off the horses and making love on a saddle blanket somewhere in the bushes in no time flat. Good thing he'd had sense enough to ignore Vince's rules.

“Okay.” He urged Cinder into a trot but kept checking on Anastasia to make sure she was all right.

She was more than all right. She owned that gait now that she'd discovered the musical connection. He caught snatches of the pop tune she'd used yesterday as she hummed in time to Jasper's rhythmic hoofbeats.

Trotting cut down the time from ten minutes to five, but it was still the longest five minutes in the history of the world. He wouldn't chance a canter, though. She'd only ridden it once with him holding her in the saddle.

He left the main path for a lesser one he'd discovered earlier this summer. They were getting close. He slowed Cinder to a walk and swiveled in the saddle. “Almost there.”

“You bought the Anderson place, didn't you?”

“I did.”

“They were nice people.”

“So I heard.” He rounded a bend in the trail and there was his house shaded by two large mesquite trees that dropped bean pods on his roof and all over his front yard. He didn't care. The trees made the house look as if it belonged right there, tucked in under the branches.

“You're nice, too, though.” There was a smile in her voice.

“Glad you think so. We'll just put the horses in that little corral out back.”

“Okay.”

He headed over to the corral and jumped down to open the gate. He'd never used the corral for anything, but today he was really glad it was there. If he bought a horse someday, then he'd build a small barn. The metal-roofed ramada shading a portion of the corral wasn't enough shelter from the elements, in his estimation.

As he quickly took off Cinder's bridle and hung it on the gate, Anastasia rode through on Jasper. Mac walked over to her. “Let me help you off. Just take your feet out of the stirrups and I'll do the rest.”

She shook her head. “I'm okay. I know I almost fell last time, but I'll be ready for that. You don't have to baby me.”

Tipping his hat back, he gazed up at her. “Believe me, I'm not babying you.”

She looked into his eyes. “I see.” With a knowing smile, she kicked her feet free and turned toward him. “You just can't wait to get your hands on me.”

“You've got that right.” Lifting her down this time was a breeze because she knew what to do. And so did he, once her feet touched the ground. He gathered her close, tilted her hat to give him access and claimed that smiling mouth.

She kissed him right back, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising up on her toes as if to get closer yet. With a groan he pulled her in tight. The feel of her warm, supple body drove him a little crazy.

Maybe he should have waited to kiss her until they'd made it into the house, but she tasted so good and he'd been thinking about this kiss for a long time. Before he knew it, his tongue was in her mouth and his hands were cupping her sweet little ass.

Flexing his fingers against the seat of her jeans, he wished them gone. He craved her silky smooth skin. He wanted to explore, to lick and nibble his way over every moist, delicious inch of her.

She moaned and he brought her hips in line with his, fitting them together as he thrust deep with his tongue. Dimly he realized that if he wanted more than this, he had to get them both out of the middle of the corral and into the house. And he wanted more than this, much more.

Focusing on the ultimate goal, he slowly released her and stepped back. Gasping for air, he realized he was shaking, too. He'd better get a grip or their first encounter would be over way too soon.

Her hat was in the dirt and she was breathing as hard as he was. “We . . . We should probably . . .”

“Yeah.” The denim was severely strained over his crotch, but he managed to shove his hand into his pocket and come up with his house key. “Go on in. I'll take care of the horses.”

“But I should help you.”

“If you don't get out of this corral, I'm liable to grab you again.” He scooped up her hat. “See you in a minute, Twinkle Toes.”

She took the hat and left.

He resisted the urge to watch her go. That would waste time. Instead he turned to Jasper, who was eyeing him as if he'd lost his mind.

He sighed. “I have lost my mind, horse. That woman has fried every brain cell in my head.” He fumbled with the throat latch as he unbuckled Jasper's bridle, but eventually he made himself focus on the task at hand instead of the reward waiting for him.

Yet that reward remained in the back of his mind as he quickly unsaddled both horses and propped the saddles on the top rail of the corral. He hung the bridles there, too and filled the water trough. He'd started out the gate when he realized how fast his heart was pumping. Pausing, he took a steadying breath. Better.

As he approached the house, he noticed Anastasia sitting on the front porch swing, her hat lying beside her. “You didn't go in?”

“I unlocked the door, but I waited for you. You said you wanted to show me the house, so it felt wrong to go in before you had a chance to do that.”

His heart rate sped up again as he climbed the steps. “I don't think I have the patience to show you the whole house right now.”

“No?” She stood and the swing rocked gently.

“No.” He took off his hat and tossed it on the swing. “But I'd be glad to show you the bedroom.”

Her eyes darkened. “That's fine with me. Some people think the bedroom is the most important room in the house.”

“It is now.” He held out his hand and she laced her fingers through his. He was more in control than he'd been in the corral, but his heart still pounded as he led her through the front door. He nudged it closed with his foot before continuing on through the living room.

“Nice sofa. And that lamp is pretty. I see you have most of the carpet ripped up in here.”

“Later.” He pulled her down the short hallway so fast that she started laughing, and that was perfect. Whatever this was between them—an affair, a fling, an adventure—it should be filled with laughter and joy.

Making love to her for the first time in daylight was perfect, too. Secret trysts in the dark weren't their style. His east-facing bedroom windows weren't shaded by the mesquite trees, so his king-sized bed was flooded with sunshine.