Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (4 page)

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“I’m willing to listen. Except about Matt.”

“No.” His tone was so rough she winced. When she handed the canteen back to him and spurred her horse away, he felt the world close in on him. He watched her ride across the land they both loved.

Hell, he was fucked up. Was it getting worse by the day? He sure felt more haunted than he had a week ago. A
djusting to civilian life was no picnic for anybody, but being around Danica resurrected Matt’s death even as it soothed Brodie.

He ran his hand over his face. Dammit, he needed to focus on work. Out here he forgot about his past for a little while.

He caught up to her. Their horses naturally swayed together, so close Brodie could touch her arm, warm from the sun.

“Let’s stick to work, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I know you don’t want to hear the shit I could tell you.”

“Maybe not, but it might ease you to say it.” She didn’t meet his gaze, just rode on, her body rolling with the horse’s movements.

He pushed out a breath he’d been holding. “Why don’t I go home for a while and we’ll meet at the barn after lunch?”

As she swung her gaze in his direction, his mind was caught in a whirlpool and dragged down into all the sweet goodness of Danica Pope. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and their gazes locked.

With supreme effort, he released her wrist and spurred his horse. Over his shoulder, he called, “See you.”

“Later, Pup.”

* * * * *

“Pa, I need some cash for feed.” Danica stared at her father as he went through the motions of working in the barn, but he wasn’t really present. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Pa?”

He waved at her. “Use the card, honey.”

“We can’t keep putting money on the credit card. Isn’t there any cash in the checking account?”

“You pore over those books every day. You tell me.”

Yeah, they were broke. They’d usually have some cash flow from selling some three-hundred-pound young’uns. But they hadn’t taken any to auction—they’d missed the big yearly one in Abilene because of Matt. Her pa didn’t have the heart for ranching right now. Or anything, really.

“Okay, I’ll use the card.” It was never so apparent to her that she and Brodie couldn’t fail. They needed to make a go of this crazy scheme of his.

On her way out of the house, she caught her mother standing at the sink just staring out the window. Danica put a hand on her shoulder. Her momma didn’t move. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to her thin cheek.

Danica’s heart ached not only for her brother but for her parents. She understood what they were going through, but it was breaking her down on a daily basis.

When she started toward her truck, she saw the cloud of dust moving up her driveway. A small thrill hit her belly.

In seconds Brodie had parked the Bells’ truck and jumped out. His boots were dusty, his jeans slung low on his hips. His old belt buckle was worth studying just to keep staring at the delectable transition between hard abs and hips.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, damn him.

The shit-eating smile toyed with the corner of his mouth and finally won. He grinned.

“What’re you smiling about, Pup?” Her insides quivered.

He spoke, but damn if she could focus on any words coming out of that sexy mouth. He was so distracting, in fact, that she didn’t see the other truck pull in or the man get out.

Brodie’s face changed, and he glared over her head. “You got company.”

She pivoted to see Wayne striding toward her, a bouquet in his grip. Wildflowers, the stems all different lengths. So charming, yet…

She flushed as Wayne leaned in to give her the bouquet and kiss her cheek in greeting. “I had an appointment and left class early. I thought I’d drive up here and see how you’ve been.”

In other words, she wasn’t answering his calls or texts, so he was going to force her to respond face-to-face.

“Uh, hi Wayne. Thank you. These are beautiful.” They were and any country girl would be honored to have a man picking flowers for her and making a long drive to deliver them. So what was her problem?

Brodie cleared his throat. He reached around her to shove his hand at Wayne to shake. “Brodie Bell.”

“Ah, I’ve heard about you and your buddies making it home.”

Brodie’s expression became guarded. Wayne’s smile wavered at Brodie’s stern look. Danica studied Brodie. Her guess was he didn’t want to talk about his time as a soldier, and definitely not with a stranger.

“Yeah, thanks.” He gripped Wayne’s hand and pumped it hard. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” He started to walk away, and Danica panicked at the thought of him leaving.

Or of being trapped with Wayne.

“Wait, Brodie. I thought we were heading over to town for some feed.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked at her. She hoped her plea wasn’t written all over her face. She hated to hurt Wayne’s feelings, but…

Brodie gave a nod and walked back. He reached into his open truck window and pulled out his T-shirt, which he drew on with such mesmerizing slowness she almost issued a mewl of lust.

“Well, thanks again for the flowers, Wayne. Brodie and I need to get on the road.” She walked around Brodie’s truck and got into the passenger’s seat. Brodie looked in the window at her. A question was in his eyes, and she knew she was in for it. He’d demand to know who Wayne was to her and why she was so eager to escape.

Brodie hopped in and started the engine. He backed out and raised a hand in goodbye to the poor schoolteacher.

Leaning against the seat, Danica released a heavy sigh.

“Wanna talk about that?”

“No.” It was her turn to sound short and gruff.

“A boyfriend of yours?”

“A teacher I saw once.”

“You slept with him.” Brodie’s words made her jerk. Without a glance at her, he pulled onto the desolated road that led to their dead little town.

“I—” She started to protest and thought better of it. He’d see through her anyway. “Okay, I did.”

“And now he wants more but you don’t?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Brodie.”

“Huh. I know that song and dance, princess.”

His pet name for her sank deep into her body, past any reservation about him being Matt’s friend. Her lips fell open.

He did a double take at her. “Dammit.” He whipped his truck off the road into a parking lot with the ruins of a dentist’s office. He put the truck in park and they stared at each other across the cab that suddenly felt tight and cramped.

“I’ll tell you all about it as soon as you let out some of your demons,” she challenged.

He narrowed his eyes. “Who says I have demons?”

“I see you counting to yourself. Do you think I don’t know you’re trying to talk your anxiety away?”

“You read lips now?”

“Maybe I do. You can’t hold that darkness inside you forever, Brodie. It will eat you alive and you’ll be worthless to your friends, your parents, the ranch and even—”

“Danica,” he said, cutting her off.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he grabbed her nape and yanked her across the console to meet him. When his lips crashed over hers, she gasped. The wildflowers she’d been clutching dropped from her fingers and she closed her hands over Brodie’s shirt. Bringing him as close as she could get him.

Fucking hell, he had a serious case of blue balls. So much for distancing himself from her. As soon as he’d seen the way Wayne had looked at her, Brodie’s inner alpha was prepared to mark his territory. He’d wanted to throw Danica behind him to keep the guy’s eyes off her.

Angling his head, he drew her deeper into his kiss. He ran his tongue over her sweet, plump lips, and she opened to him with a moan he felt deep in his body.

Her hat had fallen off with the first brush of his lips, and he filled his fingers with all that fucking glorious hair. Porn star hair. He wanted to wrap it around his fists and plow into her tight, sexy body.

When she touched her tongue to his, a growl shook loose from his core. He latched an arm around her and half-lifted her from her seat before realizing what he was doing.

Ravishing Matt’s baby sister.

He tore his mouth free. She dropped back into her seat, eyes blurry and her lips swollen from his kisses.

“Hell,” he grated out.

“Brodie…”

“Don’t say it. Please. I already know. I’m sorry. I don’t have any right to put my hands on you. You’re practically my little sister.”

She groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “Don’t say that.”

Anger boiled up and filled his chest. With a jerk, he put the truck in gear and whipped into the road, right in front of Wayne.

“Jesus, don’t kill him.”

He shot Danica a look. He stomped on the gas and put a good half a mile between his truck and Wayne’s.

“So you slept with him. How many times?”

“What business is it of yours?”

He’d forgotten about her sass until now. “My job is to make sure my friend’s sister is behaving.”

She snorted. “What can you do about it?”

“I’ll lock your ass up in the woodshed if I have to.”

She folded her arms over her breasts and shot him a look packing more heat than a fifty-caliber machine gun. “I’m an adult, not some kid you need to watch over.”

As he glared at her, taking in curves that would give a man whiplash, deep eyes, and sultry lips, he lost his train of thought. Yeah, she was pure woman.

He shook himself. “How much feed do we need anyhow?”

“What? You’re changing the subject?”

“Hell yeah.”

“I’m not telling you until we get there.”

“Fine.”

She turned her head to look out the window and he locked his attention on the road, the ruins of Los Vista, and the sky. Anywhere but Danica. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to relive that kiss.

Two miles down the road he’d replayed it in his mind nine times. Damn, what had he gotten himself into? He was in quicksand with no way of climbing out.

Chapter Four

There was only one thing worse than a grumpy cowboy, and that was a cowboy who was wet to the skin—at least to her libido. Danica had been working with Brodie for an hour, and every damn move he made was making it hard to look away. Or work for that matter. “Can’t we just knock off for a few hours until the rain lets up?”

Brodie raised his head, water running off his hat, and stared at the fence. They’d managed to erect a lot of posts even in the rain, so she understood his hesitation. It was just that if his jeans got any wetter, she couldn’t be held accountable for her actions.

A shiver ran through her.

“Are you getting cold?” Concern punctuated his brows.

“No.”
I’m too damn hot
. But she couldn’t exactly say she wanted to jump his hard body and lick the rain off his skin. Could she?

“If you need go back up to the house, I won’t think less of you.” His teasing tone was reflected in the smile tipping the corner of his lips.

To prove how much she didn’t need to go to the house, she gripped a post and began to wrangle it into an upright position. He watched her struggle for a second before moving toward her.

His body rolled, his wet shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. When he grasped the post and added his strength and body weight, the post jerked in the opposite direction. She wasn’t one of those women who believed she could do everything herself, but it irritated her that he’d managed it so easily.

He gave her a long look. Goose bumps broke out on her forearms. Damn, why did he look like the most delicious dessert ever while she had to look like a drowned rat? Her top was molded to her like a second skin and her hair hung in a wet, dripping tail down her back.

“I’ll fill in the dirt around this hole. You get the next post,” she said.

Her words made his eyes clear. As he turned to do her bidding, she wondered where his mind had been just then. At times she drifted off into memories of them as kids, playing with Matt. She knew Brodie did too.

Just yesterday he’d spent twenty minutes recounting tales of how annoying she’d been. The time she’d shown up at the pond where they’d taken some dates and asked why they didn’t want to hang out with her. When she’d tried to jump out of the hayloft and had sprained her ankle—again.

The thing still ached, especially in weather like this. As a kid, she’d practically lived in an ankle wrap.

As she began to shovel earth into the hole around the post, she watched Brodie from the corner of her eye. He’d moved down the fence line. The posts were leaning at all angles, many stuck, baked into the Texas ground.

With a grunt, he shoved one. It gave way immediately. The look he tossed her raised a deep ache low in her belly, along with thoughts of his thorough, mind-bending kiss.

“Dammit,” he muttered and moved to the next post. The rain started to fall faster. She watched the water soak his spine, right between those beautiful bulges of muscle.

While she filled in the dirt, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. The fierce expression he wore coupled with the way he manhandled the wood left her with a feeling that he was waging a mental war.

He must have seen and done some horrific things in the name of his country. Not all soldiers had outlets for their frustrations like Brodie did. At least he could throw himself into hard work.

Then he hit a post he couldn’t move.

He threw himself at it. Veins stood out on his neck, and he bared his teeth as he tried to force it upright.

She stood back and watched him go at it again and again. Nothing happened.

Crowding beside him meant her boots sank into a sticky mud hole. But she didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panting hard.

She placed her hands beside his on the wood. “Helping.”

He gave her a sharp nod. “On three. One, two, three.” They went at it together. For five solid minutes they tried to move that post.

“It hasn’t budged an inch,” she rasped, falling back.

“Not a millimeter.” He rapped his gloved knuckles off it.

She was breathing hard.

Brodie scowled at her heaving chest. “Go on back to the house. I’ll finish up here.”

Turning, she noted another two hundred yards of fence to fix. Not a lot when your hands weren’t slipping on wet wood or you weren’t shoveling mud. But in this filthy weather, the idea of a warm house and dry clothes worked its magic on her senses.

“Let’s go in and have some coffee. Dry off.”

His eyes bulged a little. Shaking his head hard, he said, “Nope. I’m finishin’ this. You go on up.”

She settled a hand on her hip. “Brodie. If you’re hell-bent on working, there’s stuff to do in the dry barn.”

“Jesus, does she know what she sounds like?” His murmur reached her through the constant patter of rain. He started attacking the post again with more vigor than before.

She watched him for a minute. Finding no words to convince him, she turned and walked away. Across the field and back toward the ridge where the house seemed to snooze under the gray sky.

Once she saw the windows with all the curtains drawn, she stopped in her tracks.

Damn, she’d forgotten her home was now like a funeral parlor. Her parents were devastated and grieving. They spoke in hushed whispers and barely stepped into the sun. Matt wouldn’t have wanted this for them, but what was Danica to do? They needed time. If her pain was so raw and fresh, she couldn’t imagine what her parents must be feeling.

But she didn’t want to go inside just yet.

Heading to the barn was the natural decision. Inside was dry and smelled of fresh hay. A few horses greeted her with whickers, and a cat came to curl around her ankles—until it discovered how wet she was.

It skittered away, and she laughed.

Now that she was out of the rain, she realized how soaked her clothes really were. She should at least go into the house and get a fresh set, but the idea of being dry while Brodie was out there drenched didn’t set well.

Some of those posts seemed cemented into place. Nothing would move them except…

She spun to the barn door and opened it to stare at her truck parked a good, fast sprint away. The only thing that might move those posts.

And get Brodie’s stubborn ass out of the rain.

She slapped the front of her jeans, feeling for her truck keys. Then she took off running across the wet yard. Minutes later she was driving toward the fence line where Brodie was still taking out his anger on the same post.

When she laid the heel of her hand on the horn, he looked up, his face blanking. Then a huge grin spread, and she felt it echo in the walls of her heart.

By the time she pulled up beside him and rolled down her window, her pulse had galloped out of control. Seeing him smile, knowing she’d put it there…well, it made up for so much pain in her life right now.

She grinned at him. “Need some horsepower, cowboy?”

“Could use a little, yeah. You got rope?”

“In the back.” She twitched her head in the direction. As he walked to the back of her truck, she watched him in the side mirror. Even with the reflection mottled by streaming rain, he was damn fine. Her nipples were as hard as pebbles, and only half the reason was her wet, cold shirt.

He appeared at her window again, hat dark with rain and his eyes even darker beneath it. With his five o’clock shadow and dirt smeared on his cheekbone, he looked rugged as hell.

She released a slow, even breath.

“I hooked the rope to your hitch. Pull forward until I say stop.”

Unable to fabricate a real word, she simply nodded. He stood back to watch the progression. She settled her boot on the gas and gently depressed the pedal. The truck rolled, and she felt the rope catch.

“Keep goin’,” Brodie called.

She did.

“It’s moving! Coupla more feet.” His face, which had just been creased in frustration, was now wreathed in smiles. Something inside her broke open, as warm and sweet as honey. She liked seeing him happy. Making him happy.

“Whoa!”

She braked, and Brodie waved at her while he went to check the post. A second later he was at her window again.

“Think you can go forward about six inches?”

“Are you suggesting I can’t drive?”

He scrubbed his gloved finger beneath his nose. “Not at all. Just go forward until I tell you to stop.”

She couldn’t help but admire his backside as he resumed his place.

“Go on.” He waved.

She repeated the process. When he called for her to stop, she was distracted by his damn pretty face and bent the post the wrong direction.

“Whoa! You’re too far.”

Biting her lip, she put the truck in park and got out. “This wouldn’t have happened if you would have come up to the house for that coffee.”

He blinked at her as if she were speaking in tongues. “You’re the one who came back.”

She stared at his mouth for two heavy heartbeats. Was it too much to stop for coffee? And why hadn’t he tried to kiss her again? Days had passed and he hadn’t even looked at her as a man looks at a woman.

When she reached the post, she shook her head. “It’s barely left of center.”

“Still crooked.”

“Who knew you were a perfectionist, Brodie Bell?” Rain showered both of their heads. She wanted a warm, dry bed and this man in it with her.

“You knew. Remember when I practiced ropin’ that summer?”

She groaned. “God, yes. You made me stand in the yard while you lassoed me from all angles. Half the time you hit me with the rope. I swear I still have red marks.”

He let his gaze dip over her wet form. His lips compressed and he glanced away. “Sorry about that, but you wanted to help.”

“No, I wanted to be with you and Matt no matter what you were doing. I let you rope me so I could stay close to you.” Her words splashed between them.

He dragged in a deep breath before spinning away. “I’ll finish these up. Thanks for bringing the truck.”

As he stomped to the next post, she issued a groan of frustration. The man needed to work out some demons? Let him. But it seemed like plain old stubbornness to her.

Working closely with a woman in a wet shirt molded to her breasts was bad. But she was wet all over, and that made Brodie want to peel her clothes off and tuck her into a warm, dry bed.

With him.

Son of a bitch.
Matt’s voice popped into his mind, and Brodie almost bit his tongue, which was practically hanging out as he watched Danica’s ass twitch away from him. She got into the truck and slammed the door.

When she laid on the gas and threw mud clumps off the tires at him, he knew he was in trouble. Wet, angry women were forces to be reckoned with.

He had no choice, though. He had to keep shoving her away or she’d burrow too close and he’d end up kissing her again. Or worse.

For days since their shared kiss, he’d been eating, sleeping, and breathing Danica. Hell, she’d haunted his dreams and he’d awakened with a boner the size of a bazooka. He’d had no choice but to take care of his needs—twice—before it would fit in his jeans. But this couldn’t go on.

As a senior his buddies had teased him that she liked him. Of course, being a jackass at that age, he’d said within her hearing that he’d rather kiss his horse than Matt’s kid sister. And watched her face crumple before she turned away.

She hadn’t talked to him for weeks after that. In fact, she’d gone steady with a big jerk who had told the whole school he’d slept with her. That had roused Matt’s anger, and, in turn, Brodie’s. The five of them had marched up to the boy and made him taste the inside of his locker.

After that, Brodie’s friendship with Danica had been a little easier.

Still, what he’d said wasn’t true today. No way would he rather kiss his horse. Her sweet lips were turning him inside out.

As he righted five more fence posts, his mind wandered to Matt. His platoon leader and best friend wouldn’t want Brodie schmoozing on his baby sister. Besides, Danica was all light and hope while Brodie was filled with darkness. The times he woke and bolted up in bed, a scream of horror on his lips… Well, he couldn’t drag her into that hell with him.

By the time he finished the portion of fence and walked back to the house, he was in a mood. Covered in mud and soaked to the skin, unable to have what he wanted. He was man enough to admit he was acting like a grumpy little kid.

Danica was in the barn, dry, her fluffy hair a dark cloud around her shoulders. He raked his gaze over her curves. Even in old jeans and a hoodie, she was beyond sexy.

I have to get some distance.

“I’m going on home for the day.”

She turned at his voice, hand still outstretched to the horse she was treating to a couple apple slices. Her lips turned down at the corners. “You should get out of those wet clothes.”

He ground his teeth against the images her words evoked. “That’s why I’m headed home.”

“But you aren’t coming back? There’s still plenty of daylight. We can talk about where we’re getting the money to patch the fence between our properties.” She was hatless, and it took everything in him not to close the gap between them and sink his hands into her thick hair. Tip her face back and kiss her sultry lips.

For long seconds he worked through his mental imaginings before focusing on what she was saying. They’d planned to open the fence on his family’s ranch and patch the Popes’ fence into it, creating one big enclosure.

Not that anybody was left to care if the Bell and Pope herds wandered onto their lands. But since a young age Brodie had been taught the family creed—trust everyone but brand your cattle.

Across the space, he stared at Danica. The longer he looked, the tighter his chest became.

And his jeans.

“I gotta go,” he said gruffly.

“Wait, Brodie.”

He hadn’t even moved a muscle yet she was calling him back. This wasn’t going to end up good, if the look on her face was anything to go by. She wore the same wide-eyed expression she had after he’d kissed her in the truck.

When she walked toward him, his muscles stirred, as if knowing he should run. But he stood rooted to the old wood floors.