Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (8 page)

She threw a look over her shoulder and nearly choked on her cereal. Brodie stood there, thumb hooked in his belt buckle, a crooked smile painted on his handsome features.

He moved into the living room. “You got more cereal?”

“In the kitchen.”

He turned and walked into the kitchen. She went dead still. What was he doing here? Besides going after a bowl of cereal.

A minute later he returned carrying a brimming bowl. When he settled beside her on the couch, his thigh so close she felt his scorching heat, he gestured at the TV with his spoon.

“Like old times. Cartoons and cereal.”

Her heart gave a strange flip-flop. He was right—she, Matt, and Brodie had spent countless mornings this way.

They munched in silence while the Road Runner bested the coyote. After Brodie had gulped down half his bowl, he dropped his spoon into it and sat back. His big legs splayed naturally and he cradled the bowl in one broad palm.

She set her bowl on the coffee table and turned to him. “Everything okay?”

When he met her gaze full force, she forgot about their argument. Suddenly she only remembered the good he’d done—on the ranch, for her dog. He’d even been helping some of the few families in town by dropping off eggs from their chickens.

“Everything’s fine.” His eyes practically smoldered. “Just came by to do chores, but you have it covered.”

“Yeah. Do you want to work on the enclosure?”

“Figured we would.” He didn’t look ready to budge.

“Okay, well, finish your cereal and we’ll get to it.” She started to stand, but he caught her wrist. His longer fingers encircled her flesh, searing places that had nothing to do with her arm. “Brodie?”

“Are we okay, Danica? Because I can’t stand it if we’re not okay.” The gravel in his voice abraded her control. He looked like a lost puppy with those deep brown eyes and the cute way his eyebrows furrowed.

“We’re okay, Brodie.”

He reeled her in until she had no choice but to sit beside him again. This time their thighs touched. Even with layers between them, she knew his worn denim was supersoft, making her fingers twitch to feel more.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted at Shooters.”

“Okaaaay.” Her warm, fuzzy feeling about him started to vanish like a morning fog under the sun.

“And for the drugstore incident.”

“Is this the point in the conversation where you pinch me and call me Easter?”

His gaze raked over her face, raising a shiver in her. “No, sweetheart. I truly am sorry. Forgive me?”

The moment was too heavy. Feeling an intense need to lighten it, she said, “Only if you finish your cereal. It’s your favorite.”

A crooked smile broke over his face. “You remember.”

“Yeah, because it’s my favorite too.”

He released her wrist and lifted his hand toward her face. For two long heartbeats it hovered a scant inch from her cheek before he dropped it. “I’m not very hungry lately. I think I am but after a few bites… Let’s see if this cereal’s the pigs’ favorite too.”

With that, he stood and strode from the room, leaving her to blink after him. What was that near-caress of his hand near her cheek? And what was bothering him so much that it was affecting his appetite?

The man was driving her crazy. And damn if she didn’t like it.

* * * * *

Danica seated her mare with such skill and pride that Brodie could hardly look away from her. The sun seemed to have come out just to kiss her golden-tan flesh. She rode before him, issuing orders to the two dogs running between them and the herd.

Since barreling into Los Vista weeks ago, prepared to take on civilian life with gusto, he’d lost a little of his momentum. There was no reason for it—he and Danica had achieved so much with the ranches already. Soon they would finish the enclosure that would fuse their ranches as one.

Danica’s long, dark ponytail bounced on her spine, which was covered in plaid fabric of pinks and pale oranges. Sunset colors. Too well he could imagine running his hands over that warm fabric and drawing it off her arms. Leaning in to kiss and nibble her throat, collarbones. Breasts.

Shuddering, he pushed his horse to catch up with hers. Today she rode a nice, quiet animal. It suited her. His own horse was one he hadn’t ridden much before. He found it a bit ornery, but they were getting along fine.

When he neared Danica, her horse’s ears perked up. It tossed its head.

Danica glanced around and saw Brodie. “What are you doing? My horse doesn’t like it.”

“Just ridin’ alongside you.”

Her horse snorted and shied away. Danica gave the mare enough lead to put her in her comfort zone again. But Brodie’s horse wouldn’t have it—the gelding angled right for the mare.

“What the hell, Brodie?” Danica’s animal reared. A squeak left her as her world upended.

“Danica!” His heart slammed against his rib cage seeing her dangling in the saddle. His sharp cry brought his horse up. Her mare’s hooves hit the ground. The dogs scattered.

Danica quickly shifted herself into a solid position in the saddle, and she righted her hat. Beneath it, her eyes were bright with anger. “My horse hates yours. Keep it away from her.”

“This isn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know they don’t get along?”

“Considering you and I don’t get along—”

“What the hell are you talking about, woman? We get along fine.”

“Unless I do something you have no control over.”

He eased his horse as close as possible without pissing off her mare. Never again did Brodie want to see her clinging to the saddle to keep from falling and being trampled. His pulse was still racing and he wanted to draw her into his arms just to make sure she was okay.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Danica.”

She stretched a hand before her, indicating the rolling fields of golden grasses. “Out here we have few problems.”

“What about in your living room watching cartoons this morning?”

She didn’t reply, her head held high as if she were scanning the horizon for an answer she didn’t have.

Brodie rode closer, and her mare’s ears stiffened. Danica shot him a scowl, but he wasn’t moving away until she answered him. “We’re friends. Always have been,” he said.

“I never said we weren’t.”

“But you’re implying that I’m controlling and if I don’t get my own way, I’m difficult to get along with.”

She laughed, a buttery sound that coated his insides. A man could accept high cholesterol if he feasted on that every day. “You don’t want to get me started on what happened at Shooters or the drugstore.”

“No, I don’t. But we obviously aren’t working past it until we clear the air. So lay it out for me, darlin’.”

When she threw him a glare, his heart flexed. She was stunning, especially when angry. He wanted to rile her until she snapped. Then he’d pin her arms above her head and kiss the cuss words off her pretty little pout. His cock stirred.

“I don’t want to get into it with you, Brodie.”

“You’re holding a grudge. You never were a grudge holder.”

“No? What about that time you told the guys you’d rather kiss your horse than me? I didn’t talk to you for weeks.”

He burst out laughing, too late realizing it was the wrong reaction. Her gaze trained on him like guns on an enemy. “It’s funny—”

“Funny? It’s not remotely funny.”

“You cut me off. I meant it’s funny you mention it because I was thinking about it a few days back.”

His horse edged too close. The mare swung her head around, teeth flashing. Thankfully neither animal got spooked, and Brodie was able to catch hold of Danica’s ponytail. The length slid through his palm like warm silk, and suddenly his jeans were excruciatingly tight.

“Get your horse away from mine.”

“Danica, look at me.” His command brought her head around. Their gazes locked and her lips fell open at whatever she saw on his face. He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “I don’t prefer my horse now.”

She twisted away. “But you did then. You’re not forgiven.” Her tone suggested otherwise.

They swayed in their saddles, cattle lowing around them. One of the dogs zipped past. And Brodie ached to pull Danica off her horse and into his lap.

She flicked her head, and her ponytail slipped from his hand. She spurred her mare into a trot and left him to stare at her back—and her supple behind bouncing up and down. Jesus, she was going to kill him. But she was right in one way—he was used to being in control but with her he was on a landslide.

He wasn’t giving up. He kicked his horse into gear. In seconds they were astride again. He caught Danica’s quiet groan as he appeared beside her.

“I don’t like the schoolteacher,” he said quietly.

Her head whipped around. “Why the hell not? You know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t get a say.”

“The first time I saw the guy, you practically jumped into my truck and begged me to take you far away from him.”

“I didn’t put it that way.”

“You didn’t want to spend time with the man. What changed?”

“I realized I don’t have a reason not to see him. He’s a nice guy. A good guy.”

“He’s not for you.”

That look—the Pope look—Matt had given him the same expression countless times in battle. It was Matt’s poker face. Matt couldn’t have displayed his true feelings or he’d risk alarming the platoon. Danica didn’t feel she could either, and that hurt.

Brodie held up a hand. “Look, you’re not going to convince me that you’re actually interested in this guy.”

“What if I told you I went to bed with him Friday night?”

His ab muscles clenched as he stared at her. “Did you?”

When she didn’t answer, he caught her around the waist and yanked her right out of the saddle.

She cried out, kicking, but he settled her across his lap. Her mare made a run for it.

“My horse!”

“Let her go. But you aren’t getting away.”
Not this time.

“I’m not a young girl anymore, Brodie.” She moved as if to jump down, but he secured her. Wicked curves were pinned to his body in all the right places. Jesus, he was losing his mind. No, she was stealing it.

“I know you’re not a kid, darlin’.”

“Stop calling me that.” Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes darkened.

Before he could figure out what he was doing, he lowered his head. “Okay, I won’t. Squirt.” He claimed her mouth.

The first brush of Brodie’s lips against hers dragged a ragged moan from her throat. She felt as though she was free-falling, but she was tightly locked in Brodie’s arms. His flavors flooded her mind, and she parted her lips on a gasp.

He took immediate advantage, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Forcing her to open wider for his invasion. With a shudder of desire, she threw her arms around him and dragged him closer.

Angling his head, he swept the interior of her mouth, his hot tongue tasting of pure, raw need. Her breasts ached and her nipples throbbed where they were pressed against his chest. Never in her life had she been kissed while on horseback. Or kissed like this.

She dug her nails into his shoulders as she touched her tongue to his. Tasting, taking, and giving. She really must have pushed him far enough that he no longer saw her as Matt’s kid sister.
Took him long enough.

As she tangled her tongue around his, she let her fingers trail up his throat. Her fingertips brushed the rough stubble on his jaw, and she stroked it. Again and again. Burning to feel that prickle all over her bare body.

He tore his mouth free and glared down at her. “Did you sleep with him Friday night?”

She drew him down until their noses bumped. “No.” Her whisper was swallowed by his possessive kiss. The rumbled growl ignited her. She closed her eyes and let him control her. She could get used to this free-falling feeling.

He hauled her higher on his lap so her hip pressed against his rigid cock. Her heart pounded as she realized just how far this could go between them. And why not? She was sick of denying he was perfect for her.

He tore from the kiss again and flipped her upright to straddle the horse. Brodie groaned as her ass ground against his erection. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” His rough words caressed her neck, prickling her skin.

She looked down at his gloved fists with reins looped around them and imagined his touch all over her body. She wiggled backward.

A growl burst from him. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I don’t want you to try.”

He urged his horse along the fence. Placing his mouth to Danica’s ear, he grated out, “Slide off, cowgirl. Nice and slow.”

Oh God. What did he want from her? She dragged in a deep breath and slid out of the saddle. Her boots barely touched down before Brodie was on her. Crushing her to his chest, his mouth bruising.

She kissed back with everything inside her. His tongue seemed to be attached by invisible thread to her pussy and nipples. Cupping her face, he tipped her head back to receive him. Long, sweeping passes of his tongue as if he truly couldn’t get enough.

She couldn’t, that was certain. She stroked his spine, damp with perspiration, down to his steely buns. Hitching him against her drew a lusty moan from each of them.

“You need more from a man than that teacher can give.” His eyes were nearly black. She swore she could feel his cock throbbing against the V of her legs.

Wiggling closer, she leaned onto tiptoe to put Brodie right where she wanted him. “You think so?”

“I know.” That command in his tone stole her last thread of self-control. When he tugged off his leather gloves, her heart began to pound. She captured his mouth and fumbled with his shirt buttons. With every inch of flesh she bared, her pussy pulsated. When she reached his belt buckle, he stayed her, his fingers locked around her wrists.

As she saw the decision in his eyes, her heart turned over and did a happy dance.

He unbuttoned her top with record speed, tearing off one of the buttons in the process. It zinged through the high grass, lost forever. She didn’t care. She bowed her back to get closer to his burning touch.

Popping her breasts from her bra cups, he groaned. The vibration zipped through her senses. Cradling one breast in her palm, she lifted it to his mouth in offering.