Learning to Ride (2 page)

As his fingers
closed around Madeline's, the sensation of his calloused palms abrading her own soft hands and regularly manicured nails made her shiver in the best possible way.
Hellooo, Mr. Cowboy.
She bit her lip to hold back a giggle and allowed him to lead the way to the dance floor.

Talk about surreal. It was hard to believe any of this was actually happening. Willingly dancing to country music in a Texas honky-tonk was about as far outside her box as she could get. But maybe that was why it was so oddly thrilling? Probably. Or maybe it was the man whose hand was clasped around her own, pulling her along with a confidence that he seemed to be born with.

It was a very nice view, walking behind him like this.

She'd always preferred the kind of guy who wore well-tailored suits and handsome shoes, and who exercised on a treadmill in moisture-wicking athletic wear while watching CNN or listening to his iPod. At that moment, it was hard to remember why she'd thought the
GQ
look was more attractive than a pair of Levi's that fit perfectly and a plaid shirt that was soft and faded from countless washings.

She allowed her gaze to steal over the cowboy's broad shoulders and muscled back as he cut through the crowd. This was a man who wore boots for a reason. Someone whose muscles were formed from rolling up his sleeves and doing real labor. A man who took the bull by the horns—probably literally, she thought with a stifled grin.

Tipsy Madeline had
much
better taste in men, if she did say so herself.

When they reached the farthest, darkest corner of the place, he turned and pulled her into his arms, a lazy smile lifting the corner of his mouth. There was no awkward moment of trying to find the right position; they fit together as though they'd danced a dozen times before. She let out a blissful sigh, not even caring that the music could only be described as twangy and the clientele as less than urbane. She was having fun. This was so much better than how she'd pictured her night going.

As they began to sway in time with the rhythm, he ran a hand down the back of her bare arm, his touch feather-light. “You're not from around here, are you,” he drawled, though it was more of an observation than a question.

She grinned wide. “What gave me away?” she asked teasingly. She couldn't have been more obviously from out of town than if she had her New York license taped to her shirt.

He chuckled softly and pulled her in just a little bit closer. “Call it a hunch. I'll do my best to make you feel welcome.”

That telltale spark of attraction ignited deep in her belly. Savoring the sensation, she tucked herself against the hard wall of his chest. “I'd say you're doing a pretty good job so far.”

They moved together, their faces just a little too close, their dancing just shy of too familiar. God, she already wanted him. Really, really badly. It was more than those kissable lips she couldn't seem to take her eyes off; it was the undeniable chemistry that had sizzled between them the moment their eyes first met. Even now, she could practically feel it.

When was the last time she'd felt like this? Light and happy, intoxicated by much more than just some beer. Part of her wanted to stand on tiptoe and kiss him right then and there, but the bigger part of her wanted to savor the delicious tension building between them.

And it definitely built. After only a handful of songs, she was breathless with it. Her hands had found their way to the back of his neck, and she kept imagining pulling his head down the scant inches it would take to press her lips to his. The way he was leaning in close to her, it seemed he was imagining the same thing.

“What brought you here tonight, all by your lonesome?” he murmured, as an old classic from the fifties slid into a song she remembered hearing from the late nineties. They kept dancing, their movements languid and unhurried.

“Curiosity, I guess. Lack of options,” she added with a hint of a wry grin.

“Curiosity is a good thing, and I suppose I should be grateful for the lack of options. It certainly worked in my favor tonight.”

She gave a soft laugh before resting her head against his shoulder. “Mine, too.” The words were almost to herself, but she knew that he had heard her when he slid his arms around her completely.

They danced that way through both slow and fast songs, tucked up against each other like lovers. When they spoke, it was with hushed voices and heads tilted together, but for the most part, they just danced.

She hadn't realized how much she had needed this. After months of working like a crazy person, trying to prepare for both the merger and her unexpected move, she hardly remembered what it felt like to relax. But here in his arms, she felt the tension melting from her body, along with all of her worries for the coming days.

She had no idea how long they'd been on the dance floor when he leaned down so his lips nearly brushed her ear. “What would you say,” he asked, speaking low and slow, his warm breath caressing her neck, “if I said I wanted to kiss you, right here on the dance floor?”

A thrill raced through her as she tilted her head back to meet his warm gaze. It was heady, feeling both wanted and respected at the same time. He was giving her the chance to call the shots, while letting her know exactly what he hoped she'd say. With her heart pounding crazy hard in her ears, she lifted an eyebrow and said, “I'd say, what are you waiting for?”

His smile was sweet and devilish all at once. Still swaying to the music, he raised one hand to cup the side of her face and lowered his mouth to hers. When their lips met at last, she felt it all the way to her toes. It had definitely been worth the wait. His lips were soft but insistent, and he drew her body more firmly against his as he dipped his tongue into her mouth.

Heaven
. She followed his lead, matching his every move with one of her own. He slanted his lips fully across hers, and a breathy little moan that escaped her made him deepen the kiss more.

All the people and bustle of the room around them faded away, and it was just the two of them, lost in the moment. In the dim recesses of her mind, she realized that none of this would have ever happened in her normal life. For the first time since receiving word of her relocation, she was damn glad she'd ended up right where she was.

Damn, the woman could kiss.

Tanner would have happily kept on kissing her through the whole song if someone hadn't brushed by his back, reminding him of the audience they had all around them. Reluctantly, he drew back. Her little sound of protest went straight through him. He nearly threw caution to the wind and kissed her all over again, but he forced himself to resist.

Actually, he hadn't intended to kiss her quite so thoroughly the first time, but, well, he couldn't help himself. She was sexy as hell, and his body hummed with awareness the entire time they moved together. Some people just plain fit, and they were like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

But kissing like that was bound to catch notice sooner or later, and Tanner really didn't want an audience. Instead, he tucked a lock of her silky blond hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down the side of her neck. “Care to move this dance somewhere a little more private?”

He hadn't been able to keep his hands off her since the moment she'd slipped her fingers in his, and the idea of having full access to her had his heart kicking against his chest like a riled bronco.

Those same fingers were now sliding their way down his back, sending all kinds of sensations through him. “Have somewhere specific in mind?”

A dozen very specific images came to mind, and none of them involved spectators. “Anywhere but here, darlin'.”

She was the outsider here. He wanted the decision to be in her hands. He wanted a
lot
of things to be in her hands.…

“In that case,” she said, her voice low and sultry as she hooked her fingers around his belt loops, “I think I know just the place.”

He couldn't resist tipping her chin up and stealing one more quick kiss. It was hot and searing, and full of promise. A night with this girl was bound to be memorable. Pulling back, he offered up a slow, intimate smile. “By all means, lead the way.”

This was crazy.

She
was crazy. Madeline had just invited a Grade-A cowboy back to her motel room, for heaven's sake! And she couldn't even blame it on the alcohol. Dancing half the night away did wonders for sobering a woman up, but in her defense, she was pretty sure it was possible to be drunk on a man's charms.

His many, many charms. She stole a look over at his muscled, denim-clad thighs as she shifted gears. No wonder he'd stayed on the bull so long. And no wonder she wasn't feeling even a hint of guilt for taking him home with her. She bit her lip.
Doing Texas right
was taking on a whole new meaning.

The motel was only half a mile away, though with her thundering pulse and fluttering nerves, it seemed much longer. Up until that moment, she'd hated the drive-up style of the place, where you could park right outside your door. Now, she was seeing the error of her ways.

It was only six steps from the car to her room. As she slipped the key into her door, he kissed the back of her neck, sending chills racing across her whole body. She shivered at the sensation even as she leaned back against him. He was warm and solid and smelled amazing. The subtle, masculine scent of his cologne was practically intoxicating.

At last the lock gave way, and they more or less tumbled inside. She quickly shut the door behind her, dropping her keys and purse on the ground without a second thought. When she turned around, he was there, and their lips crashed together as though neither one of them could wait another second. Two steps backward and she was pressed against the door, her hands buried in his hair as his tongue tangled with hers.

Crazy.

She'd never done anything like this in her life. She was a three-date-minimum kind of gal, and a serial monogamist at that. But maybe that was because she'd never kissed a ruggedly handsome, hard-bodied cowboy before. Because heaven help her, it was
incredible
.

His hands slipped over her sides and down to her hips. He squeezed gently, pulling her tightly against him even as his mouth burned a trail of kisses down the length of her neck. She sighed with pleasure, tilting her head to give him better access.

Why had she never done this before? It was the single most exhilarating, thrilling experience of her life. Every day should end with making out with a hot stranger.

He leaned down, grabbed her behind her legs, and lifted her from the ground. The motion was absolutely effortless, as though she weighed no more than an empty suitcase. Four steps and they were on the bed, his warm, muscled body covering hers. God, the man could kiss. She gave herself over to his capable lips, reveling in the sensation that washed over her with each and every flick of his tongue, loving the soft scratch of his beard against her skin.

He pulled back, and she almost groaned in disappointment until he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugged it off.
Oh yes, much better
.

“I saw you the moment you walked in tonight,” he said as his hands found the little mother-of-pearl buttons on the front of her shirt and got to work.

“You did?”

He nodded, pushing both sides of her shirt away and exposing her black lace bra. “I've had my eyes on you all night.”

She shivered, as much from his appreciative blue gaze as from the cool air against her newly bared skin. “I don't know how I could have missed you.” She had to have been half blind not to have seen him.

He shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “An oversight, I imagine,” he said lightly, teasing her with his words as much as with his deliciously calloused fingertips. “I should be offended, but you did finally come to your senses.”

She almost laughed. This was not coming to her senses. This was losing her mind. She didn't even know his name! And strangely enough, she didn't want to. Tonight was for fun. A crazy, intense, delectable night that she'd remember long after she was promoted right back to New York City in a year or so.

Sliding a finger down the center of his six-pack abs, she offered up a wicked grin full of promise. “I'll see what I can do to make it up to you.”

When he captured her mouth in another kiss, she let go of all thoughts of the town, the quiet, and even the less-than-ideal motel bed. It was just the two of them and the incredible connection that made her heart pound and her mind whirl. Lucky for her, he was prepared, and by the time that foil wrapper hit the floor, she was more than ready for him.

When he finally pressed into her, she couldn't help but gasp against his lips.
Absolute perfection
. They seemed made for each other, moving with the same perfect rhythm they'd shared on the dance floor, their sweat-dampened bodies sliding against each other as the sound of their escalating breaths and her soft moans broke the quiet of the room. Had anything ever felt this good? She couldn't remember ever being this turned on, this attracted to anyone.

He pushed her to the edge again and again, skillfully drawing out her pleasure until at long last she shattered, crying out only seconds before he shuddered above her and collapsed, as spent as she was.

As she lay there panting for breath, reveling in the feeling of their bodies twined together, only one thought floated to the surface of her satisfaction-dazed mind:

That was one
hell
of a welcome to Sunnybell.

“Good morning, Ms. Harper.
My, don't you just have a spring in your step today.”

Madeline maintained her pleasantly neutral expression even as she tried valiantly to suppress the blush she could feel rising up her cheeks. She had good reason for that springy step. “Good morning, Mrs. McLeroy.”

The receptionist smiled over her reading glasses as she set down her knitting. She was an odd mix of characters, with hair like Dolly Parton, a face like Mrs. Claus, and a seasonally themed wardrobe that reminded Madeline of her third grade music teacher. Today's vest featured falling autumn leaves and a smattering of friendly-looking cats.

“Mr. Westerfield said he'd like to see you once you got settled this morning.” She leaned forward and added in a conspiratorial tone, “Don't you worry, though. I already plied him with coffee and my homemade banana nut muffins this morning, so I know he's as happy as a possum in a corncrib.”

Madeline bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a chuckle at the colorful comparison. She was still working on establishing her authority here and had no intention of jeopardizing it by joking around with the staff. In the week since she'd arrived, she'd been a veritable poster girl for professionalism. The older woman was sweet, but she hadn't yet realized that Madeline was soon going to be running the place, and Westerfield would be spending his days on the golf course.

Assuming this town
had
a golf course.

Nodding, Madeline thanked her before heading for her own office. As she slipped between the haphazardly arranged cubicles, she pasted a pleasant but professional smile on her face. She hoped it would disguise the barely contained giddiness she felt after one of the most amazing nights of her life. She hadn't gotten much sleep, but she still felt wired.

At six that morning, awakened by the alarm on her cell, she had feared an awkward morning-after moment. But she opened her eyes to discover that he was already gone—and she exhaled a blissful sort of sigh. No guilt, no regrets, just pure, unadulterated satisfaction. The perfect, once-in-a-lifetime encounter.

“Good morning, Ms. Harper,” Kelly Ann from Sales said as she walked by, her bright pink lips stretched in an odd, almost knowing smile.

Madeline blinked. Knowing smile? No, surely not. She was just being friendly. It was hard to gauge a person's expressions when she wore a full mask of makeup this early in the morning. “Good morning,” Madeline replied, her professional veneer intact.

As she walked past Geraldine's desk, the younger woman seemed to be biting back a grin. “Have a good evening?” She fluttered her lashes with over-the-top innocence.

Now that gave Madeline pause. Slowing, she said, “Yes, and I hope you did, too.”

Okay, she was just being sensitive. She always had harbored an irrational fear of people somehow knowing when she had gotten lucky the night before. But then she noticed the stir around the office as, one after the other, heads popped up from behind cubicle walls like pageant-haired gophers.

Oh, no.

She walked as fast as she could the last ten feet to her office without giving the appearance of running. Or escaping. Which she was. Seriously, what did they know? She hadn't seen anyone she recognized at the bar last night. And outside of the office, no one in this town knew her yet. Even the cowboy himself hadn't known her name.

She pushed the door to her office closed and leaned against it, working to control her rising apprehension. When she was able to breathe semi-normally again, she hurried to her chair, sinking into it much the way her heart was sinking in her chest.

A brisk knock on the door made her groan out loud, but she couldn't very well ignore it. “Come in,” she said, working to sound cool and collected.

Her temporary assistant, Laurie Beth, rushed inside a millisecond later, her green eyes wide and sparkling. “Lord Almighty, girl, you
must
tell me everything.”

Swallowing, Madeline busied herself at her desk. “I'm not sure I know what you're referring to. Do you have the sales records I requested yesterday?”

But her assistant wasn't to be distracted. She plopped down onto the chair opposite the desk and leaned forward, eyebrows lifted. “No need to be coy, honey. You should be proud! Not a woman in this town has been able to tame Callen the Stallion, and in less than one week you managed to bring him to heel.”

Callen the
what?
Madeline gaped at her, completely horrified. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Only the fact that you took Sunnybell's most eligible bachelor home last night after a whole evening of just-this-side-of-dirty dancing.” She shook her head, sending her long highlighted curls swinging. “Every female in a thirty-mile radius has wondered what it'd be like to ride Tanner's bronco. I hope you're prepared to spill some beans.” She scooted forward to the edge of the chair, obviously expecting a play-by-play.

“Tanner? I thought you just said Callen?”

Laurie Beth exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Tanner Callen, rodeo star extraordinaire and all-around handsome-as-sin bachelor. Come on, Ms. Harper, I heard it from my own cousin's lips, and Amber never peddles in fibs. Her gossip is as good as gold.”

Madeline was going to be sick. “And…everyone out there knows I, um, spent some time with him?”

Nodding earnestly, Laurie Beth said, “Of course! Nothing ever happens in this town, so when something like this goes down, it spreads faster than warm butter on hot bread.”

Wonderful. Fantastic. Here Madeline was, doing her level best to be the professional representative from corporate that she was supposed to be, and she'd just managed to fall headfirst into
Gossip Girl
.

“Laurie Beth?” she said, clinging to the tattered vestiges of her dignity.

“Ma'am?”

“Do you like working for me?” When her assistant nodded happily, Madeline looked her square in the eye. “Then let's pretend that the subject never came up, and that the people of this town have no right to my personal life. Understood?”

Laurie Beth's mouth dropped open in a neat little
O
. After a moment, she leaned back and nodded. “Yes, ma'am. You're the boss.” Her good-natured shrug proved she wasn't upset by Madeline's direct comment, but something about it made her suspect Laurie Beth believed it would be just that: pretend.

The cat was officially out of the bag.

The phone rang then, cutting through Madeline's racing thoughts. “I'll call you when I need you,” she said by way of dismissal before picking up the phone. She waited until her assistant closed the door before saying, “Madeline Harper.”

“Well, good morning, Miss Harper. This is Eddie with Home on the Range Properties. Is this a good time?”

Madeline almost laughed. Oh, sure, it was a fantastic time. Couldn't be better. “It is,” she replied, deciding not to indulge the need to have a nervous breakdown.

“I've got some good news this time around. Your rental house is finally ready. Is there a good time for me to drop off the keys for you?”

It was about time. Apparently Sunnybell didn't believe in anything as practical as apartments, so she'd been forced to wait until a suitable rental house became free. The timing, however, couldn't have been better. It was her excuse to escape and regroup, and she grasped it like the lifeline it was. “You know what? Stay where you are. I'll come to you.”

Mr. Westerfield, her job, and the busybodies of this town would just have to wait. She had a house to move into. She'd spend the weekend hiding out there and then maybe, if she was very, very lucky, this whole thing would blow over by Monday.

And maybe it would rain diamonds, too.

Life on the rodeo circuit wasn't glamorous, but it was a hell of a lot more exciting than Tanner's new life, that was for damn sure. Trudging through the aisles of Harrison Hardware and Supply Company on a Saturday morning with a neatly ordered list written out by his grandmother and double-checked by Grandpa Jack was not his idea of a good time.

But he had made a promise to them. If they wanted him to pick up a half dozen new feed buckets and a “cushier”-handled garden trowel, then by God, he'd do it. Honestly, he'd do just about anything for either one of them.

As he turned the corner into the garden tool aisle, he came to an abrupt halt, his eyes widening. Before him stood Miss New York herself, her blond hair tucked in a short ponytail and her long legs on display beneath a pair of green-and-white polka-dot shorts.

The mere sight of her made his pulse kick up. The night they'd spent together had seemed too good to be true. A slow smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He didn't know why she was still in town, but he had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sauntering over to where she stood staring at rakes as if they were a foreign language, he said, “Afternoon. Shopping for souvenirs, are we?”

She sucked in a surprised breath and whirled to face him. Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she locked eyes with him. “Souvenirs?”

He grinned and picked up one of the rakes, turning it in his hands a few times. “Well, I don't imagine those New York City stores sell many gardening tools.”

Since her car hadn't been in the motel parking lot that morning, he'd thought she was already on her way back. He hadn't expected to run into her again, but, seeing her now in her cute little shorts and her off-the-shoulder sweatshirt made him glad he'd been wrong.

Narrowing her eyes, she reached out and chose a different rake. “You can get anything in New York,” she said, her voice cool and her words clipped. “And no, this is not a souvenir. This is a tool to improve the atrocious state of my lawn, thank you very much.”

Her
lawn?
He took a cautious step back. “Do you commute to the city then?”

She gave a half laugh, half snort. “Kind of hard to commute to the city from here, cowboy.”

He stiffened. What in the world was she talking about? Wariness straightened his spine as he set the handle of the rake against the concrete floor. “Here meaning…?”

She gestured vaguely around them. “Here,” she said, as though the meaning should be obvious. Her hand settled at her hip as she turned accusing eyes on him. “Speaking of which, why the hell didn't you tell me you were some sort of local celebrity?”

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his free hand, palm out. “Hold on there. I don't remember you being real keen to exchange biographies and resumes out on the dance floor, or between the sheets, for that matter. Hell, I still don't even know your name.”

She drew a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. Spreading her lips into a forced smile, she stalked forward and thrust out her hand. “Hello, Tanner Callen, local rodeo star and apparent town golden child. I'm Madeline Harper. Your new neighbor.”