Cowboy Crazy (The Dalton Boys Book 1) (9 page)

After he left her field of view, it took ten full seconds for Charlotte to be able to draw breath.

It was pretty damn telling—she liked him. A lot.

Turning from the window, she poured herself a glass of sweet tea. Then she drifted to the front porch to sit and think.

Even pursuing pleasure with Hank was unfair. She’d be leaving in a short time, and both of them would be left bleeding a little in the aftermath. She wasn’t the type of girl to love ’em or leave ’em either. She’d had five boyfriends in her life, and didn’t take relationships lightly.

That’s why she’d been so devastated by what Stephen had done to her. The burn, surgeries and scarring were a lot less painful than knowing he’d tried to kill her.

Was she over Stephen enough to share her body with Hank?

The answer was crystal clear—yes. This wouldn’t be a rebound affair. But it would be an affair—short, pleasurable. Probably poignant, something to look back on later in life and remember the time she’d been taken in by a beautiful cowboy—in all ways.

Witt rounded the corner of an outbuilding and tipped his hat at her. “Got more of that sweet tea?”

“Yes, in the fridge.”

“I’ll be lookin’ for it when I’m done.” He dropped her a wink, and she smiled back. The Dalton boys were all flirty, but only one caused butterflies to take flight in her stomach.

She made up her mind. Tonight she’d find Hank and try again.

She finished her sweet tea and went up to her room. A shower would feel good after a long day in the hot house, and she had a cool sundress in her suitcase. She spent some time lathering herself with floral-scented body wash and even longer drying her curls, first with a towel, then a hair dryer on low heat.

Finally, she slipped on the strapless red sundress and added a hint of lip gloss. Stephen hadn’t liked lipstick of any kind—he said it was too sticky for kissing. The first thing Charlotte had done when she could walk into a store was buy three tubes.

Satisfied with her appearance, she shot a look at the window. Funny how here in the country she relied on the position of the sun to tell her the time of day. The boys would be coming in soon—except Hank. He’d go to the garage and start work on her car.

Guilt flooded. He was working so hard for her. She wasn’t stupid enough to believe the work she was doing for Maggie was equal to the cost of parts and labor. Hank was doing the repairs because he was a nice guy. And when had Charlotte ever had a nice guy?

She went downstairs and grabbed a fresh glass of sweet tea to take to the garage.

* * *

When Hank glanced up, his chest grew too small to contain his hammering heart. Charlotte stood in the doorway, a halo of curls shining above her shoulders, wearing a sexy red dress and bearing a glass of sweet tea.

She met his gaze, and electricity passed between them, snapping so quickly it was dizzying. Her lips fell open in that alluring way he wanted to take advantage of all night.

“I brought you some tea.” She came forward, hand extended.

Hank grabbed a grease rag and wiped most of the oil off his hands. He longed to snag her around the waist and reel her close. God, she looked as pretty and fresh as a summer field after a rain.

He swallowed hard and accepted the glass. After the first sip, he knew it wasn’t his Momma’s—it was better because Charlotte had made it.

Damn, he had it bad. Telling her that her car would be done in a week would hurt even more now that he recognized the stupid, tipsy, happy feeling he got when he was around her.

Sometime between picking her up along the road and drinking her sweet tea, he’d fallen for her.

He lowered the glass and tried to control his ragged breathing. “Tastes great. You’ve added a little something Momma doesn’t.”

She smiled, small teeth seemingly whiter against her skin, which had gained a sun-kissed glow in her short time here. When she nodded, her curls bounced. He folded his fingers into fists. “Some mint and more lemon. Do you like it?”

“It’s delicious. I could drink me a gallon.”

She half turned to the door again. “Do you want me to get you more?”

“No,” he said too fast, too rough. Confusion etched between her brows. He tried again. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Something dark crossed her face. What was she thinking?

“Come here.” He walked to the open hood and peered in at what he’d done.

She stood beside him, close enough to grab and bend over his arm. He wanted to kiss the pink into her cheeks.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking at,” she said with a giggle.

“Most of the parts are back in, including the transmission. I only have a few adjustments to make.”

“Oh.” Why did she sound so quiet? Was she overcome with joy that she could drive away soon?

“Of course, at the rate I’m able to work, it will be a week or so before I have the car running. In that time, Momma should get her walking cast and freedom papers.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She gripped her fingers together and stared at them.

When Hank looked at the curls swirling over the top of her head, that soft, possessive feeling overtook him again. “Charlotte…”

She turned to him and tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “Hank, about what happened the other night. When I ran, I was wrong.”

“You did what was best for you, sugar.”

“I’m not sure I did.”

His gut clenched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she drew closer, flooding him with warmth, “I can’t get you out of my head. I need to know what happens next.”

While his heart soared with joy, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them again, worry glinted in hers. “Say it plain.”

Hesitantly, she untangled her fingers and placed them on his biceps. “I want to try again.”

His chest worked as his breathing grew more uncontrolled. His head told him she was leaving soon and he’d only have memories. His heart said he might be able to convince her to give a cowboy like him a chance.

He yanked her off her feet and whirled her, setting her on a stool that was hopefully clean enough that she didn’t get a grease stain on that perty little dress. A laugh escaped her, and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling her down to her mouth.

The first brush of her tongue over his lower lip raised a growl from him. Cupping her face, he angled his head and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Sweet tea and woman. Hell, he wanted her bad.

Tearing away, he said, “Not here.”

She was wrapped around him, eyes hazy with passion. “What?”

“Come with me.” He took her wrist and hauled her off the stool he’d just plopped her on. They went out of the garage and across the yard to where his truck was parked. She didn’t say a word as he put her inside and got behind the wheel. He didn’t take the driveway, but bumped across the field.

She bounced in the seat—curls, breasts, thighs. Hell, he was going to lose it before he’d even gotten his hands on her.

He knew just the spot to take her.

One point on the ranch was higher than the rest, and long ago he’d longed to put a house here. Dreaming of standing at his own window with a cup of coffee in hand and staring at the miles of Paradise Valley was how he wanted to live his life.

When he stopped, Charlotte leaned forward and placed her hands on the dash to gaze out the windshield. “It’s…”

“I know. C’mon.” He got out and came around the truck to open her door. She knew him well enough to wait, and that pleased him right down to the toes of his boots. She took his hand, and Hank squeezed her slender fingers, head bowed over hers.

“The view is amazing. Even in the dark, you can see so much. It’s beautiful.”

He focused on the whorls on her head and the tender shell of her ear. “I know,” he breathed.

She tipped her face up. Their gazes connected, his heart sputtered. Leaning in, he took her mouth—gently. Their kiss was slow and chaste, but it filled him with a simple joy.

Straightening, he said, “The view gets better.” He led her to the back of the truck. From this vantage point, you could see for miles. Prime grazing land that his brothers would someday own.

If they ever found wives, that was.

Charlotte’s breath caught, and she placed one hand against her heart. Was it thundering like his?

All he had was right now—and he was damn well going to take it.

He lowered the tailgate and gripped her waist. When he settled her on the edge, she caught the front of his shirt, twisting it under her hands. Need coursed through him, and he issued a ragged breath.

“I plan to finish what I started the other night, sugar.”

“I…yes.” Her eyes were two silvery moons in the pale oval of her face. He could get lost in those eyes for eternity.

He reached around her and caught the edge of a wool blanket he always carried in the back of the truck for emergencies. It wasn’t a feather bed, but it was clean. He spread it out and urged her to lie back on it. When he joined her, she curled against him.

For long minutes, he just held her, learning the rise and fall of her chest and the knobs of her spine. Turning to each other for a kiss was natural.

If he only got one chance at this, he would take it slow. He tugged her tight to his body, and she melted against him. As he plundered her mouth with his tongue, she grew bolder and more restless. Wriggling closer, rocking her hips.

He bit off a growl as his erection bumped her belly for the third time. If he didn’t get control, he’d ruin this encounter, and he was pretty sure this was his last chance.

His hat had been abandoned, and she ran her fingers through his hair, sending tingles down his arms. He imagined lying in bed in this very spot with her as his wife.

Charlotte’s tongue swiped across his over and over until he could barely trust himself to touch her. The more he lay docile, the more aggressive she became, and that was fine by him. This time she could take what she wanted.

She rolled atop him, breasts crushed to his chest, as warm and light as a spring breeze. “I should have done this that night on the porch.”

“You needed the time.” He buried his nose in her hair and nuzzled her ear. When he took the tender bit of flesh between his teeth, she squirmed.

“I’m ready now,” she gasped.

He gripped her round ass and pulled her up and onto his cock. Their shared moan hung in the night air. Kissing along the column of her throat, he kneaded her firm cheeks.

“I’ve never been with a cowboy.” Her breath hitched as he reached a sensitive area.

“Me neither.”

She giggled, and he realized how damn right this was. Fire raging now, he flipped her. Bracing himself on his elbows, he stared down into her eyes. They were filled with stars, and he was going to memorize every glimmer.

“I’ve been aching for you, sugar.”

She raked at his shoulders, catching the fabric of his T-shirt and pulling it overhead. Cool air kissed his skin, and at one time, he would have believed that to be the ultimate pleasure. Not anymore.

Her fingers danced over his skin. “You’re so broad. Muscled.”

He never considered how his hard work looked on his body, but he was suddenly damn proud of it. He let her explore his shoulders, spine, around to his pecs. When she skimmed a palm over his abs, dangerously close to his fly, he sucked in a breath.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured before claiming her mouth.

They rolled again with her seated atop him, tongues tangled in a wild dance of need. She straddled his hips, and her dress gathered around her hips. Throbbing, he resisted the need to plunge his fingers into that shadowed space he remembered so well.

Wild with desire, he cupped her breasts. She threw her head back and covered his hands with hers, guiding him to pull her strapless bodice down. Shock tore through him as he met bare flesh. She wasn’t wearing a bra. That perkiness was all her.

“Sugar, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve never driven a cowboy crazy before.”

He groaned as he caressed her breasts. Plucking at her nipples caused her to grind her sex down on him. He stared at her face as he twisted the little pink buds until they stood erect.

She reached between their bodies and caught hold of his belt buckle. Her face was intense as she managed to undo his belt then fly. When she slid her hot hand inside and gripped his cock through his briefs, he totally forgot the need to go slow.

He pushed upward into her hand, letting her feel his length. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and he couldn’t stand it another minute. He had to get her under him.

Flipping her, he pressed her down into the wool blanket. “I wish it was more, baby. A soft bed with luxurious sheets.”

“This is the most perfect view, Hank.” Her tone was genuine, her eyes burning.

Stripping her would live in his memory forever. As the red fabric fell away to reveal golden skin, he noticed her stiffening. “I’ll warm you in a minute, sugar.”

“No, it’s not…”

He leaned away to meet her gaze. “Talk to me, Charlotte. Let’s not allow anything between us this time.” Her throat worked. His own clogged as he realized she was close to tears. “What is it?”

She took his hand and guided it to her hip, just over the cut of her panties. Not understanding, he kneaded the skin.

And fell still.

The skin was different—harder, twisted. He removed his hand to see.

“A burn?” he asked, relief coursing through him. She’d put the brakes on because of a marking on her body?

“Y-yes. My ex—” She broke off, battling with tears, though she didn’t let any fall.

She was strong too. In that instant, he fell head over boots in love with her.

“Sugar, this,” he slid his hand over the puckered skin, “isn’t a flaw. It’s a survivor’s story. It makes you more beautiful to me.”

A sob left her, and he captured it with his mouth. Kissing softly again, going slow to allow her time to recover. When he eased a finger under the edge of her panties, she bucked.

He had her back in focus.

“This time I get a taste.” He traveled down her body, kissing neck, breasts, belly. He grazed his lips over her burn, and she twisted her fingers in his hair. He found the shape of the scar with his mouth, horrified that someone would do this to her and thrilled that she’d given him such a gift in confiding.