A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss (8 page)

She didn't want him to call her back…but she did. She wanted more than anything for him to fight for her, to announce that he believed in her, to declare that he'd waited so long for this moment that nothing would hold him back from being with her, no matter how pathetic she was.

But he didn't say that.

He didn't say a word.

He simply let her walk away.

And her heart, which she hadn't thought could bleed anymore, crumbled into its last pieces.

Steen braced his hands on the stall door, his mind reeling as he replayed Erin's comments. He didn't even know which one to react to first. He was furious that she'd been married to someone who made her feel like shit. What kind of bastard did that to a woman, let alone to
Erin
? She was an incredible woman, and he couldn't imagine how she'd been treated to make herself believe otherwise. What had she endured?

Then…oh, man, he couldn't believe her comments that she wasn't good enough for him. Was she insane? She'd always been so far out of his reach it had been laughable, but now he was an ex-con with a rap sheet? Yeah, he was even lower on the totem pole now. She should
never
feel less than the amazing woman she was.
Ever.

But she did. Clearly, she did.

She was such a wreck that she'd come out to Wyoming to try to recover. She was halfway through her trip, and she was clearly no closer to getting her self-confidence back. Was he really going to let her walk away like that? Or was he going to do something about it?

He was going to do something about it.

"Okay, are you ready?" Her voice was brisk and business-like as she walked into the barn, carrying some sort of hard, plastic case. Her chin was up defensively, and she had pulled a baggy sweatshirt over her tight tee shirt.

He ground his jaw in irritation at the distance she was trying to put between them. He'd tried to stay away from her, but it was different now that he understood her situation. She needed him. He'd never been in a position to help anyone before, and he liked being that guy for her. He
wanted
to be that guy for her. Maybe Mira was right. Maybe Erin was the reason he was still alive…because he was supposed to help her.

Granted, he wasn't going to lie: he had liked kissing her. A lot. More than a lot. It had been the best kiss of his whole cursed life, and he wanted more because he simply couldn't get enough of her. But more than that, he wanted to be the guy to rebuild her.

Steen wasn't worth a lot, but he knew that one thing he could do would be to show Erin how incredible she was. He saw every amazing detail about who she was, and if she saw herself the way he saw her, she'd never again take shit from a guy who didn't honor her.

"Can you lift your shirt?" she said impatiently. "I'd like to get this done."

He studied her for a long moment, ideas swirling in his mind as he studied her. "How long are you in town?"

"Ten more days." She gestured at his shirt. "Can you lift it up, please?"

Ten days? He had less than two weeks until she was gone from his life. His gaze swept over her again, this time appraisingly. He noted again the circles under her eyes, the pain etched in her face. Could he take that away in such a short time? Make her realize how amazing she was, so she could go back to her life and claim it the way she deserved? For ten days, he could keep her from seeing who he really was and what he'd become. He could make it about her, and give her the gift that she'd always given him: hope of a better place in life, hope of being more than he thought he was.

"Steen?" She waved a hand in front of his face. "Are we doing this, or not?"

He grinned at her, unable to suppress the surge of anticipation. "Oh, yes," he said. "We are definitely doing it." And it was going to start right now.

He didn't bother to lift his shirt the way she'd instructed. Instead, he grabbed the bottom hem and dragged it over his head, so he was completely naked from the waist up.

Not surprisingly, Erin's eyes widened in a response so genuine and innocent that he wanted to laugh. This was going to be about her, for sure, but he was going to love every second of being with her. He was primed to reignite the fire that had once burned inside her. Yeah, he knew that helping her was going to require him to get in deeper than he wanted. When she left, she was going to take a piece of his soul with her, but at the same time, she'd leave behind something that would sustain him for the rest of his life.

He was in, and he was going to change her world, forever.

Erin hadn't been ready for so much skin. She hadn't been remotely prepared for the sight of Steen's bare torso, rippling with muscle, and detailed with a stallion tattoo across his right pec. A long scar stretched across his abdomen, one that was somewhat recent, but definitely healed. It made him look even more dangerous, like a man who had survived hell and was still standing. He was pure male, and her stomach tightened instantly.

She wasn't used to responding to men. It had been so long since she'd been attracted to a man, but the awareness leaping through her was like fire igniting a part of her that had been hiding for a long time. When she'd walked in with her medical kit, she'd had lofty plans of focusing on his injury. She'd been so sure she'd be able to convince herself to remain detached, as if he were one of the horses she usually operated on.

She'd totally lied to herself. There was no chance she was going to be able to convince herself that the man in front her wasn't Steen Stockton. Not only was there no chance she was going to convince her subconscious that he was comparable to a horse, but she wasn't even going to be able to delude herself that he was simply a patient. He wasn't. Not to her.

He was Steen Stockton, in the living flesh. He was also half-naked, grinning at her as if he'd just figured out how to cause some serious trouble in her life.

Oy.

Men. More trouble than they were worth. But she couldn't help the thrill of anticipation at the way he was looking at her.

In a last ditch attempt to protect herself from him, she gave him a good, solid glare before turning her attention to the bandage. She'd just managed to get it off when he interrupted her focus.

"How long were you married?"

She sighed. This was why unconscious horses were better patients than conscious men. "I don't really want to talk about that, thanks." She studied his side. The bleeding was from what was clearly a surgical incision, but next to it was another scar, a jagged, rough-looking one that looked about the same age as the one on his stomach: somewhat recent. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she assessed it. "Is that scar from a knife wound?"

"Yeah. How long were you married?"

"Six years," she said absently, her attention focused on his injury. "How did you get cut? This looks like it was very serious. Given the placement of it, if it had gone deep enough—" Her gaze jerked to his face in sudden understanding of why he appeared so lean. "Did you almost
die
from this? Is that why you look so thin? Is that what the scar on your stomach is from? Surgery to save you?"

He tensed ever so slightly. His reaction was barely noticeable, except for the fact she was studying him so intently. "Maybe. Check the new incision. That's the problem now. They had to fix stuff up. Just let me know if it's good. What was his name? Your ex-husband's? Are you actually divorced? Was he a vet as well?"

She bit her lip, unable to stop herself from tensing at the thought of the man she'd trusted enough to marry. "Yes, we're divorced. It's been over a year. His name's Louis, and he's a heart surgeon. He pioneered a new procedure that will save the lives of many people."

She couldn't quite keep the irritation out of her voice. He'd been such a star on every level, which made his betrayal even worse. She bit her lip against the sudden tightness in her throat. Damn it. Why did she still let him get to her? Why couldn't she just get over it? Well, she could, and she would. That was why she was in Wyoming on a working vacation, right? Because somewhere in the land of her messed-up childhood was the answer, or at least that was what she hoped. But first, more importantly, was Steen, a welcome distraction from the life she was trying to forget. "You almost died?" She set her hands on his, studying his face. "How on earth did you get cut badly enough to almost die?"

His gaze flickered toward hers, and she saw the evasiveness in his expression. "It's a long story. What did Louis do to you, Erin?"

"Nothing." She would not be a victim, and replaying her life just gave it power.

He cocked his eyebrow, and she knew he could tell she was lying. Guilt tumbled through her, and she sighed. Steen was right. She didn't want to lie to him. So, instead, she raised her eyebrows back at him. "Okay, so it wasn't nothing, but it's nothing I want to talk about." She would never forget that night, that moment, when everything had changed. Her hands started to tremble just thinking about it, so she shook out her hands, trying to keep her focus. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because it helps me know how to get beneath those prickly spines you have up." He grinned. "I want to get under the spines, Erin."

She froze, her gaze snapping to his. "You do?"

At his slow nod, anticipation rolled through her. She suddenly felt a little warm. Yes, he was stubbornly ignoring her decision to keep a safe distance between them, but it was the most delicious sensation to have Steen pursuing her ruthlessly. It made her feel like there was something special about her, something that was worth going after.

Not that she was going to do anything with Steen, for a thousand reasons, most importantly because her soul was so fragile that she knew that even the slightest breeze would shatter it forever. She was holding on by the most delicate filament, and Steen had the power to sever that last hold she had on her ability to cope and be strong. "Don't."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't what?"

"You know what I'm talking about." When he continued to gaze at her intently, she flushed under his inspection. "Damn you." She cleared her throat, turned away, and began assembling her supplies to clean his still-healing incision, which was quite small and innocuous compared to his other scars. "I already told you that nothing is going to happen between us. No kissing or fondling of any nature. That means we don't need to have personal discussions about our past romantic lives, okay?"

"No, not okay. I'm not going to lie, I liked kissing you. A lot. I'm not ready to go away."

Despite her best efforts not to care, a little stab of excitement raced through her. She bit her lip, so frustrated she was responding to him. "I'm not ready for a relationship," she said quietly, almost not able to believe she was saying it. This was Steen, the man she hadn't stopped thinking about since he graduated high school and left town so long ago. How could she say no? Except she was. She had to. "Listen, Steen," she said as she began to clean the wound, "I'm too broken right now for anyone, including you."

He didn't flinch at her ministrations, but he turned his head to watch her. "I don't think so."

"But I know so." She said as she studied his assorted scars. She wanted to kiss away the pain she knew he must have endured. Her heart broke for what he'd suffered. Had there been anyone to sit by his side and tell him not to give up? She had a feeling he hadn't allowed anyone to come close, even if they'd wanted to. Was he like her? Keeping everyone at a distance? It was a terrible way to live, but she didn't know what else to do. "I came out here to heal and to find myself," she said as she laid the fresh bandage over his injury and rewrapped him. "I need space to be me." She finished and stepped back, needing desperately to retreat from the temptation he offered. "Looks great. You're all set. So, I'll see you around—"

He turned toward her and caught her wrist. "Who is the you that you're trying to find?" he asked, his dark eyes boring into hers with the same penetrating stare he'd always had. "Talk to me, Erin. I'm not a stranger."

A part of her wanted desperately to sit down and pour her heart out to him, to abandon the pretense of being the strong, amazing woman that she had always aspired to be. But at the same time, she couldn't afford to open the floodgates, or she was afraid she'd never be able to go back to her life and step back into the role she'd given everything to attain. Silently, she shook her head. "Steen, let it go. Please."

He frowned at her for a moment, still holding onto her wrist. Finally, he inclined his head ever so slightly. She wasn't sure if he was acknowledging her request, or if he was having a slight muscle spasm, because his stoic expression gave away nothing. "How about a trail ride?" he said. "I have to go check the herds at the far pastures."

She blinked. "Ride? Horses?" It had been so long since she'd ridden a horse. She operated on them almost every day, but her only focus was on them as patients who needed help, not them as animals that could be a part of regular life. "I'm not sure I remember how to ride. I've only done it a few times."

He grinned. "Me either. I haven't been on a horse since I was sixteen. You'll be my backup if I fall off and crack my head open on a rock." He raised his eyebrows. "You could take care of that, right?"

A little chuckle escaped at the image of Steen, who had once been one of the best calf ropers in the state, toppling off his horse and cracking his head open. "Yes, I could use prairie grass and saliva to tape you back together."

"Great. Let's do it. Yeah?"

She hesitated. The part of her that had spent her entire life working to prove herself and surpass the next hurdle recoiled from the idea of taking the afternoon off from work to simply enjoy herself. But another part of her, the broken part, cried for the chance to simply breathe, instead of frantically trying to accomplish one thing after another with no respite.