Falling For A Cowboy (13 page)

The grill sizzled as he turned the ribs and basted
them
some more
.
Whitey sat at attention
near his boot,
probably hoping for something to fall his way
.
“
I
’
ll save you some,
”
Clay told him.

Nice night
.
Clear
and
warm
,
but comfortable
.
The yard was well tended with flowers everywhere
.
One of the Morgan women loved flowers.
Flowers on the upholstery
,
flowe
rs in the yard, even a flowered shower curtain
.
He
’
d resisted peeking in
to
the rooms upstairs
,
since
the doors were closed
,
but he was sure curious about
Dusty
’
s
bedroom
.
Hell, he was curious about Dusty.

How could such a little thing pack such a punch
in her kiss
?
It
had been just one
kiss
,
but it had set him off like an incendiary bomb
.
And he wanted more
.
More of everything
,
including knowing more about her
.
Jesse had told him a little
.
Tara
Lynn
had filled in a lot
.
Freshly minted teacher
.
Worked the
Sweet Water
ranch during the summer.
And then there was that relationship she
’
d just finished
.
A guy named Bradley
.
Was
he
the reason for her prickly behavior? For her not wanting to get involved with
Clay
?
Tara
Lynn
had warned him not to break her heart
.

Her heart?
That
comment had reminded him
that Dusty
was a
relationship
woman
.
And he
’
d
still
come
.
Still want
ed
more.
What did that say?

Being with her tonight was what he
’
d hoped, imagined
,
and
dream
ed
about this past week
.
But that
had
included being in her bed
,
and he
’
d just promised to be a Texas gentleman
.

Courting
.
That
’
s what Jesse had called it
,
and the man was right
.
Clay didn
’
t know a thing about courting a woman
.
He
’
d never had to
.
Women came on
to him
.
And he had a good time and that was it
.
He
’
d never even been in
a
relationship that
had
last
ed longer
than a few months
.
Hell, if it had lasted a few weeks he was lucky
.
He
’
d never
looked for
more
.
Too much investment
.
Too many other women to choose just one.

A bee buzzed by
,
looking for a taste of sauce no doubt
.
Clay swatted
the
air with his spatula, sending him
on his way.

Jesse had been right about another thing
.
A one night stand, a good time, was not
Dusty
’
s
style
.
This was a girl you dated
.
Took out to dinner.
Went on picnics with.
Went away for romantic weekends.
And took home to your mother.

He was twenty-seven and he
’
d never yet bought a girl back to meet his mother
.
Oh, she
’
d
seen
him with a woman
here and there, at an event or
function
and
had
been introduced
,
but nothing he
’
d ever planned
.
And she
always
had plenty to say afterward ab
out his choice, little of it positive.
His plain-spoken, forthright mother would love a girl like Dusty
—
sweet, unaffected
,
and sassy
.

“
Hey, how
’
s it coming?
”
A flowery scent more potent than the roses lining the fence wafted across the warm breeze
as she
moved
up next to him
.

Clay turned and his
mouth went dry
. Her
shiny blond
hair
cascaded
in thick waves
around her face
and down,
past her shoulders
.
She had on a little pink tank top
, stretched just enough to outline
two
enticing
nipples,
and cuffed, white short-shorts
exposing a pair of tanned and sexy legs
.
And he didn
’
t dare touch any of it
.

This was going to be a long night
.
A very long night.

“
I won again,
”
Dusty said
,
sweeping
a pile of pennies
across the wooden kitchen table
. They jangled as the
y
fell
onto the paper plate she held at the edge to catch her bounty.
Her
beatific smile said she was satisfied with the night so far
.
Too bad he couldn
’
t say the same.

She
’
d
told him she loved the ribs and
,
given
the amount
she
’
d eaten
, he believed her
.
For a little thing she sure had a big appetite. She
’
d pulled out a
bottle of
red wine
with a fancy label
and offered him
the choice of a
beer
.
He
’
d chosen the wine
.
Three glasses later he was
feeling mellow and way too romantic to be on the other side of the table from her.

Playing poker had been her idea
.
Right now he
’
d like to turn it into strip poker
,
s
ee all that
silky
skin of hers
,
and caress
th
os
e slightly round
ed
mounds
hiding under her shirt. And he
’
d sure like to
feel those legs wrapped around his
hips
, squeezing tight as he drilled for oil.
Instead, here he sat like a saint
ly
school boy watching an angel.

“
Just got lucky is all
,
”
he said
.
He shuffled the cards, letting the
deck
rip once, th
e
n again, complimenting Kenny Wayne Shepherd
’
s riffs from the
MP3
player
blasting out of the living room
.
Who would have guessed the little angel liked a mean blues guitar
?
He
’
d
had her pegged as country
and
western all the way.

He dealt out seven cards each and tried to think of a way
to get
her naked
.
Nothing
came
to mind except
an
i
mage
of her nude
.
He said a silent curse
as
a certain body part twitched.

She settled back in her chair
and
perused
her
cards
.
Awful lot of
re
arranging going on over there.
She
’
d been distracting him every
hand
.
With the l
ast one
,
he
had
n
’
t even see
n
the flush
before
he folded
.
S
he
’
d laid down only two pair to
take the pot
.
He
’
d lost ten whole cents over that one.

“
You open,
”
he reminded her.

She threw t
wo pennies
on
the table.
He watched one roll on its side before keeling over with a clank.

“
Why do you do it?
”
She
pressed
her
cards
to her sweet little chest and stared at him as if he should know what she was talking about. He didn
’
t.

“
Do what?
”

“
Ride saddle
broncs
.
”
She shook her head
,
blond hair swinging,
as if he was some recalcitrant kid.

“
I raise you one.
”
He threw in three pennies. How was he supposed to answer that question
?
How could he make someone who had never done it understand
?
He shifted in his seat while
he considered his words
.
“
Part
ly for
the challenge
,
”
he finally said.

Her eyes scrunched up
.
“
And the rest of it is
for
what?
”

She looked cute as the dickens when she was pondering
.
Something told him
,
though,
this was more than just an idle question to make conversation
.
The answer mattered to her for some reason
.
Was it something to do with him
?
Or m
aybe a rodeo cowboy
ha
d hurt her
.
It wasn
’
t that fool Bradley
.
Tara
Lynn
had
said he was a computer geek.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table
as he held his cards
.
“
There
’
s a rush, adrenaline probably, when you
’
re sitting on that horse waiting for the chute to open
.
I
t opens
and
you usually know within the first
few
seconds if you
’
re going to make it
.
W
hen you finally hear the buzzer
,
and you
’
re still on his
back
,
that
rush increases several fold
.
Like going from 80 to 160 in a car in the same amount of time.
”

“
And that
’
s why you risk getting bones broken or your head stomped on?
”
A deep furrowed frown appeared on her lightly tanned face.
She had the cutest freckles dancing across her nose before
they
fad
ed
int
o
peach-toned
cheeks.

He shrugged
.
He knew
she couldn
’
t appreciate it
.
But he sensed she was trying to understand because it was important
to her
.
He
gave
it another shot.
“
There
’
s also knowing
that you
’
ve
faced a difficult challenge
.
A challenge
a lot of
other people wouldn
’
t be able to meet
.
And you
’
ve succeeded
.
Against pretty significant odds.
Done what most people in the stands wouldn
’
t even attempt
,
much less
pull off
.
”

“
Why not team roping or tie-down?
”

He smiled.
Those were safer sports in many respects
,
though th
ey took a lot of skill.
“
I
’
ve competed in those events during ranch rodeos
.
But besides the money, rough stock is more of a
test
for
me.
”

She cocked her head
.
“
It
is
about
guts
then
.
”
She tossed in two pennies.

“
Some,
b
ut I think
there
are
other factors
.
Hell, sitting on a bull or
bronc
is nothing
compared
to facing down the enemy in a place like
the Middle East
,
or saving people from a burning building
.
There
’
s an element of courage
involved,
sure
,
but it
’
s more like you
’
re testing yourself
.
Most rough stock riders aren
’
t
really
competing against each other.
Rodeo riders are a pretty tight bunch even though we play for each other
’
s entrance fees when the purses aren
’
t s
upplemented
like here in
Langley
.
You t
ry to better your
own
score, increase your standing. It
’
s a way, I guess, to measure
yourself
against the
rest of the
world.
And if you measure up, you
can
take home some serious money.
Does that make sense?
”

She nodded
,
but her
smile
had
tight
ened
. Maybe it was time to change the subject.

“
So you
’
re
going to be
a teacher and your mom
’
s a teacher
. W
hat about your dad?
”
She hadn
’
t said a thing about her father
.
Th
e house didn
’
t seem like a man
’
s home
.
Flowers on everything, pale
shade
s of pinks and greens.
Even the kitchen looked like a garden with its
floral
wall paper and green lattice print curtains. N
o sign of
a male presence
anywhere
,
except a photo on the fireplace mantle in the living room he hadn
’
t had a chance to inspect.
Maybe her parents were divorced.
Having
divorced parents
could make a person
wary of
men. He
added
two
penn
ies to the pile
.

She
worried her
lower lip and stared
hard
at her cards
.
“
He passed away
nine
years ago.
”
Her voice was steady, no
inflection from
emotion.

“
I
’
m sorry.
”
He was
.
M
ore than she
’
d guess
.
“
I lost my own around that time.
”

She peered at him over the top of the cards
, those blue eyes curious
.
“
Really?
How?
”

He shrugged. Time had made it easier to talk about at least.
“
Got kicked in the head helping shoe a horse.
”

“
He was a wrangler
,
too?
”
With a clang she tossed a p
enny onto the heap.