Almost a Cowboy (21 page)

She kicked her pace into a jog. “Me too,” she said as she ran ahead of him to the truck.

At least the sun was out in Kentucky. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day. They thought they were looking for Jefferson Davies. But the man might live in one of the other states between here and the coast.

That photograph loomed in Utah’s memory.
Jefferson Davies, age 14
. For the hundredth time since embarking on this insane trip, Utah wondered what the hell his father was thinking.

Caroline reached the truck and leaned against the side, looking disheveled in yesterday’s clothes. She didn’t have anything clean to put on, and she was going commando under yesterday’s shorts. Utah had almost come in his own stale jeans while watching her zip her shorts over her bare mound.

He reached around her and unlocked her door. Before he opened it, he skimmed a hand down her arm. “I’m sorry the laundry area was out of order in the hotel.”

She grimaced. “Me too.”

“We’ll drive into town and find one.”

With a nod, she climbed into the truck. He stared at her tanned legs too long before closing the door, and she gave him a look that promised more. Once she got clean clothes that was.

He dumped their bags in the back of the truck and went around to the driver’s side. That sexy gaze of hers had him all riled up. He nudged his cock to give it more room. Unlike Caroline, he was not without boxer shorts. A bachelor needed enough underwear to get him through half a month. When he’d left the mountains, he’d packed every pair.

In fact, the only thing he’d left behind was household goods. He’d packed everything—from his favorite battered copy of
Great Expectations
to the small framed photo of Caroline in her senior year.

It’s as if I knew I was never going back.

As he navigated the truck back onto the road and pointed it toward the downtown area, he let his mind wander over the possibilities of his life.

If he didn’t have Caroline, could he continue to live in his hometown? What if she refused him once they completed this whirlwind trip? She withheld part of herself. In the past, he’d had all of her, so he knew.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her hair tumbled in a smooth sheet over her breasts. Once the humidity of the day touched it, it would wave perfectly, but she fought to keep it straight.

Maybe she was also fighting to keep him at arm’s length. But in the end, just like her hair, he’d have his way. A ring would encircle her finger, and she’d be in his bed.

My wife.

“Coffee or laundry first?” he asked.

“Laundry. While we’re waiting, coffee.” She smiled, and the lights in her eyes gave him hope.

“Yes, ma’am.” He tugged the brim of his hat, and her smile stretched.

They parked on the street and hauled their bags inside. The Laundromat was clean and empty at this time of day. The worn vinyl tile floor was dull but free of dirt. Caroline breathed a sigh at the sight.

She took time to separate her loads into three—dark, light, and lingerie. The sight of those sexy bras and panties going into the washing machine made Utah squirm.

“I’ve never wanted to be a washer so bad in my life.”

With a giggle, she punched his arm. He hefted his bag onto a countertop and unzipped it. Then he dumped the entire contents into one machine.

“You’re not…going to separate that?” Caroline asked.

He dug his money clip from his pocket and selected a bill. “What for? No fragile lace in there.”

“What about that white shirt?”

“What about it? It’ll fare fine.”

When he crossed the room to get quarters for the machines, he saw her reach into his washer and retrieve the white T-shirt. She put it in with her whites.

He didn’t comment, but the mere idea of mixing their laundry warmed him. He fed the machines quarters, and Caroline bought some laundry soap. When four machines hummed, she tipped her face up to his.

“Coffee.”

He hooked a finger under her chin and held her gaze. Her high cheekbones and the bow of her lips were etched into him so deeply, he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart weren’t molded into the same curves.

“I wanted you all these years.”

She twitched. Pulled away. “You think our stuff will be okay while we walk down the street to that coffee shop?”

He filled his lungs to bursting and then slowly released the air. Controlling his urge to make her own up to her feelings, he took her hand. “Let’s go.”

The street was quiet. A mother speed-walked behind a baby stroller containing a set of twins. Their fair hair made Utah’s stomach lurch. Someday he might see Caroline pushing a stroller full of their kids. Damn,
he
wanted to push it even if his brothers would laugh at him for it—all ten of them.

“You think Pa ever pushed any of his kids in strollers?” he asked.

Caroline slowed her pace and shot him an odd look. “Does it bother you that he might have done that for other women and not your mother?”

“Hell, yes,” he said without hesitation. Then backtracking, he added, “I mean, I hope he did…treat those women right. After meeting Deirdre and Maggie, I can’t wish anything but the best for them. Too bad they tangled with Pa. The dirty son of a bitch.”

Caroline squeezed his fingers. They walked.

The storefronts were painted in the colors of sherbet—peach and pink and mint and lavender. The coffee shop was painted white with lemon yellow.

“Pretty little town,” Utah said.

“Yes.”

“You’ve probably seen plenty of pretty towns.”

“A few. This is one of the prettiest, though.”

As he drew her into the cool shade of the awning, words burned in his throat. Not just any words—
the
words. The whole make-me-happy-be-my-wife-have-my-babies-grow-old-with-me words.

He swallowed the entire lump of syllables and dipped his head to kiss her instead. The soft brush of her lips and her sweet flavors made him wish he could say it, and she’d accept it.

How had his father wooed at least eight women, and Utah couldn’t secure his future with one?

Inside the coffee shop, Caroline groaned at the delicious scents. She ordered a Grande caramel macchiato, whatever the hell that was. He got black coffee. They got their drinks to go and wandered back to the Laundromat.

Caroline rested against the washers and sipped, a blissed-out smile on her face. “I’m going to weigh three hundred pounds by the time I’m done eating and drinking anything I want on this trip.”

“That’s what vacation’s all about.” He pulled off the plastic lid of his cup and drew some hot coffee into his mouth. No wonder she looked as happy as a horse with some hot mash. The brew was mouthwatering.

“Is that what you’re calling this—vacation?”

“Well, it is, sorta. I’ve seen more of the country in the past few days than all of my life put together.”

“Do you ever think about whether or not your father visited these same spots?”

He looked at his feet and tapped a heel on the floor. “A few times, yeah. Mostly I wonder what it was that Pa had—you know, charisma. A spark. I just saw him as my father. But he was obviously good at wooing women and keeping them happy. My ma never wanted for anything when he was around. He pampered her with gifts, and I caught them kissing more than once.”

Caroline’s eyes gleamed. “He had the looks to draw in the women. Like his son.”

A crooked smile quirked up his mouth. “You think I’m handsome, baby?”

“You know I do.” She looked him over, from head to boot, and then took her time finding the path back to his gaze. The younger Caroline had blushed and lowered those amazingly long lashes. This new, bold Caroline made his heart hitch—for the old days or because the woman in front of him was so fucking perfect for him?

Slowly he closed the gap between them. He gripped her waist and lifted her. When her bottom hit the lid of the washer, she laughed. The silky touch of her fingers on his upper arms fueled his fire that never really went out.

The difference between him and his father was Utah would be satisfied with Caroline forever. If he had her, he’d never stray.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to hers. Under the brim of his hat, they shared a sweet, lingering kiss. He anchored himself between her legs and kneaded her waist, her hips. Then he found the warm flesh of her thighs.

With a groan, he angled his head and snaked his tongue into her mouth. She cooed in delight. He slid his hands down to her calves and positioned them around his back. Her seat on the washer was almost perfect. If she scooted to the edge and angled her back, he could slide right into her sweet little body.

He broke the kiss and tossed a glance over his shoulder at the open glass front of the building. Old women probably sat in those chairs, people watching. Unfortunately it afforded everyone on the street a direct view of him and Caroline.

Though he burned to strip her down and fuck her silly on these washers, he couldn’t let anyone else see her naked. She was his and his alone.

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?” she asked, breathless.

He twisted his head back to meet her gaze. “Damn right,” he growled. As he crushed his mouth to hers, she knocked off his hat. Pure joy radiated through his system. This was good, right, perfect, everything he’d ever wanted.

The One.

Marry me, marry me.
He ran his tongue over hers in time to his chant. She tasted of caramel and coffee—and damn if he didn’t practically taste love on her lips. She wouldn’t admit it yet, but she couldn’t kiss him like that and not share his feelings.

Dragging Caroline to the edge of the washer, he rocked his erection into her pussy. Dark need rushed through his system.

Caroline pulled away from the kiss, panting hard. “Ever had sex in public?”

He looked at her hard. Her eyes glittered with excitement, and her lips were swollen from his kisses. “If you call the front porch swing at midnight with you public, then yes. What about you?” He didn’t want to hear that answer. Before she could speak, he slammed his mouth over hers.

The kiss raged out of control. He chased her tongue around her mouth and tugged lightly on her hair. She sank her teeth into his lower lip, earning a groan of appreciation.

When she grasped his wrists and guided his hands to her breasts, he froze. “I want this.” Her breath was hot against his lips.

“I do too, but I can’t. Not here.” He put a fraction of an inch between them. Disappointment was scrawled all over her pretty face. “We can’t risk it.”

“We risked it in the Alans’s shed.”

“The front of the building wasn’t open to the street.” He glanced behind him and saw two people strolling, cars passing. “And I almost went nuts knowing Alan had seen you naked.”

She shook her head, stunned. “Did you?”

“Yes, goddammit.” He reached for her again. “You’re mine. Mine alone. No one will ever set eyes on this body again because it belongs to me.” He dug his fingers into her ass and hauled her against him. Their kiss was volcanic, and they were ready to erupt.

She ground against his cock, and he fucked her mouth with his tongue but refused to give in to the urge to even pinch her nipples. The washing machine vibrated as the cycles changed. By the time he regained his senses enough to stop kissing her, the machine gave a final rotation.

Breathing hard, they stared at each other.

“You get me so hot,” she pouted.

He couldn’t control his grin any more than he had his need to brand her with kisses. “Good. I’ll take care of that very soon. Now let’s unload this wet laundry.”

•●•

Though Utah said he had a gut feeling that Jefferson Davies was not in Missouri, they drove south to Jefferson City. Navigating cities made him tense and grouchy, but Caroline sought to soothe him with conversation.

As she did an online search for Jefferson Davies in Missouri, they chatted about the surroundings and how they’d both loved history in high school. Then they stopped at the courthouse, and she did some digging for records on Utah’s brother, all the while plying him with tales of friends they’d shared.