Authors: Lauren Smith
“We need to get you real ranch clothes. I can’t have you wearing Callie’s hand-me downs.”
Hayden’s lips parted, but she wisely didn’t argue. This would be fun. The little East Coast princess was going jeans and boots shopping. He grinned.
* * *
Hayden didn’t like the look on Fenn’s face, the feral grin that practically reeked of smug amusement, no doubt at her expense. Admittedly, she had gotten excited about shopping. She hated going with her mother, but she genuinely liked going by herself. Being raised by a selfish woman didn’t mean she still didn’t appreciate good clothing. Still, this was not exactly her type of store.
She followed Fenn inside the shop and was instantly surrounded by racks of jeans, shirts, long black and brown trench coats called Duster, and a wall full of cowboy boots—boots with painted flowers, boots with rhinestones…She clasped her hands and snatched up a pair of sapphire blue-dyed boots. Clutching them to her chest, she spun around and smacked into a tall, hard, muscular body.
“No way. Put them back.” Fenn pried the blue boots from her hands.
“But—”
He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. “Honey, your feet will be killing you in about an hour after you put these on. They aren’t meant for walking or for working.” His tone was gentle, but the point was clear. No fun clothes. She wasn’t here to have fun.
Her fingers loosened on the boots, and she let him set the boots back on the display stand behind her.
“Come over here and look at these.” He took her hand, the touch a comfort that surprisingly wasn’t patronizing. The next stand had short cowboy boots that were a dusty tan color. He picked one up and bent the boot in his hands. It gave a little at the pressure, but not too much.
“Boots need to be strong, but not immovable. These are a good pair, water resistant and designed for work or play.” He smiled at her. “Why don’t you try these on?”
Normally, if a man had dictated her clothing choices, he would have been properly chastised, but she had to concede to Fenn. He wasn’t acting out of some macho need to control her but to help her, and she really meant to see their bargain through.
“Okay. I’m a size eight.” She agreed and plopped down on a wooden bench to wait for a store clerk. Fenn took one of the boots and headed toward the storage room door, where a young woman took the boot and went in search of Hayden’s size.
Hayden leaned forward and slid off the boots Callie had loaned her and realized that they were the same sort of style. The thought made her insides squirm a little. She didn’t want to be Callie, or at least she didn’t want to be anything like the woman who’d been in Fenn’s life for so many years. Callie was wonderful, but…that damned jealousy kept rearing its head. She didn’t want to get Fenn’s attention or interest by dressing up like someone else. She liked her Valentino dresses and Jimmy Choo shoes. Of course, he had a point. That type of attire had no place out here.
Fenn sauntered back over with a large box in his hand. He knelt down in front of her and opened the box. Inside amid the tissue paper lay a pair of brown boots. He lifted the right boot and held it up. Hayden pointed her sock-clad toes and slid her foot inside. The boot felt just the right kind of snug and the part around her ankle was looser.
“Well?” He studied her, eyes intense and warm. He rested his hand on her knee and that simple touch made her skin tingle.
“Feels good.” Her face heated when she realized she wasn’t sure if she meant the boot or his hand.
“Let’s try the other one.” He slipped it on and had her walk around the store. They were comfortable. There was no denying that.
She had the clerk hold the boots on the counter while she focused on jeans. After collecting a couple of pairs, she went into the small changing room in the back and pulled the curtain closed. She had just tugged on the first pair and buttoned them when the curtain flung back and Fenn peered inside.
“What are you doing?” she gasped.
His grin was her only warning of his intentions.
Y
ou about done?” he asked, then narrowed his eyes on her hips. She was holding her shirttail up to see how the pants fit on her hips and butt. She did look good, and the way heat simmered in his eyes filled her with pleasure at knowing he knew she looked good.
“Does it pass the pocket test?” he asked.
She turned around and raised her brows. “Pocket test?”
He stepped into the changing room and cornered her. She tilted her head back.
“The pocket test,” he murmured, “is all about making sure you have enough space to put your hands…” He slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Heat exploded through her lower body and her breath escaped in a rush. His fingertips dug into her bottom, hauling her against him, until there was no space between them. Her hands pressed against his chest, feeling the shape of his athletic physique, built by hard labor and dangerous hobbies like bull riding. Her breath hitched and she licked her lips. He tracked the movement with predatory eyes.
“You are temptation—pure, sweet, sin.” The rich timbre of his voice melted her anxieties and fears of being controlled. Right now, she was a hotblooded woman, he was a hotblooded man, and the only thing that mattered was the heavy weight of sensual silence right before a kiss.
She lifted her head, arching up on tiptoe as he lowered his head. Their mouths came together—slowly, gently with deep exploring, penetrating tongues, mimicking the act of sex. The mere thought of it made her limbs tremble and skin flush with wild currents of inner flames. His hands in her back pockets kept her from pulling away. They massaged her ass, clenched it, rubbed it, possessed it in a way she hadn’t thought was possible. She felt owned, branded, but only in the best way.
His kiss rendered her mindless with its raw desire, barely softened by tenderness. She let her hands wander over his chest, his shoulders, his back, memorizing his shape and feel, painting memories of his body in her mind. The way she reacted to him—swift and immediate—was almost dizzying. Her body was keyed up and ready to explode. Her womb clenched, and her clit throbbed as he ground his erection against her. Little shivers shot through her like errant sparks from an untended fire. Desire sang in her blood, a striking aria building on pure notes each time he changed the angle of his mouth or teased her lips with little nips. The part of her that was so tired of fighting the world was burned away, cast into a fire and forged into something new.
All sense of time dwindled as she lost herself in the hazy, almost dreamlike intensity of their kiss. When their lips finally broke apart, she whimpered in protest, feeling more animal than human at that moment, and hating that the giver of such pleasure had suddenly denied her the ecstasy she craved.
Blood pounded against her temples, an erratic beat, like the frantic poundings of tribal drums. Her eyelashes fluttered open, and she blinked several times, trying to orient herself.
“Fenn?” She uttered his name barely loud enough for herself to hear.
His own breath was heavy, fanning across her face in little pants as he removed his hands from her jeans pockets and cupped her neck. He pressed his forehead to hers and simply breathed, as though it was the only thing he could do at that moment. Seeing him just as affected as she was only made the entire thing hotter. She was wet and hungry for more, but something in the back of her mind dragged her into reality again. They were in the back of a clothing store, making out like teenagers in a dressing room.
“How are you so fucking irresistible?” he demanded. “It’s like I can’t get enough. Once I start to kiss you, I just lose it.” The pads of his thumbs ran up and down the column of her throat and she closed her eyes at the delicious sensation of him stroking her skin.
“One of us has to get control or we’re going to have problems.” Where she found the strength to finally pull back, she’d never know. But she put space between them and gathered the other jeans and left the changing room. They’d fit. They’d better fit, because she wasn’t risking any more pocket tests. He didn’t follow her out.
She collected a couple of other shirts and one of those funny-looking long jackets the clerk called a duster, and on impulse she bought a brand new, light tan Stetson hat to replace the one she’d ruined this morning. She knew he wouldn’t be pleased with her buying him a hat, but she didn’t want to be in his debt, especially not for a problem she’d caused. That wasn’t who she was. She paid for all of her clothes and was just tucking away her credit card into the slim card wallet that fit into her jeans when Fenn strode out of the changing room.
What the hell had he been doing back there all this time? From the look on his face, she knew asking would probably earn her another spanking. Not that she would have minded. Her ass was delightfully sensitive and tender to the touch since he’d put his hand to her.
Hayden left instructions with the clerk about where to deliver her clothes. It cost her a few extra bucks but she wasn’t putting her new stuff in the open bed of Fenn’s truck. No…way. She wore her new boots and put Callie’s boots back in the box.
“You ready to leave?” Fenn was scowling as he came over to her.
“Yeah.”
“Where are your bags?” He glanced around her.
“They’re being delivered later.”
His jaw actually dropped. “What?”
“I’m not putting them in the back of your truck. Especially not when you’ll be driving us back through those mountains. One hard bump and my new clothes could go flying off a cliff.”
She almost giggled because she could tell he wanted to argue but swallowed whatever he’d planned to say.
“All right, fine, let’s go.” He curled an arm around her waist and with a nod at the store clerk, tugged her toward the door.
“Where to next?” she asked as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. A lot of people were flooding the small main street, shopping or heading to a late lunch or running errands. A group of hikers bustled past and one bumped into Hayden hard enough that she stumbled into Fenn, and he caught her to keep her from falling.
“Busy place,” she muttered.
“Lots of hikers this time of year.” He shielded her as he guided them across the street toward a feed store.
She had never been inside a feed store before. It smelled like hay, grain, and animals, but in a nice way. The aromas brought back memories of when she’d been a young girl, learning to ride her first hunter/jumper horse. The barn had always smelled like summer and the warm sunshine felt good on her skin as she’d helped groom the horses with hand brushes. She’d hated having to walk away from the riding lifestyle. Her mother had felt it was not necessary to continue the activity once Hayden was old enough to attend social functions and charm the sons of men her parents wanted to get better acquainted with.
Leaving Fenn to walk to the back of the store where a man stood working behind a desk, she wandered down the aisles, inspecting the various feed bags for dogs, cats, and other animals. There were even coops with chickens strutting and clucking. One rooster stood out among the sea of white feathers. He cocked his head, studying her with a critical eye, so serious that it made her laugh.
The sound of raised voices drew her attention away from the coop.
“Damn it, Nelson. You know Jim’s good for the money. We’re just a little behind, that’s all.” Fenn’s tone was desperate.
Hayden crept along the nearest aisle and peered around metal shelves to see the back desk. Fenn had his elbows on the counter and his hands buried in his hair, pulling at the strands. He was desperate.
“The account is three thousand in the hole. I can’t advance you anything until the debt’s paid down.” The older man, with a grizzled beard and weary expression, attempted to pat Fenn’s shoulder. He shrugged off Nelson’s touch.
“Please, Nelson. I’m begging you. Jim just got out of the hospital. We’re working to get the ranch back on its feet.”
“I understand, I do.” Nelson looked away. “But we all have mouths to feed and I can’t make exceptions.”
Fenn growled like a wounded animal and spun around, eyes widening when he saw her.
“Come on, Hayden, time to go,” he snapped and stalked off.
She didn’t follow him. Everything in her warned her not to interfere. It would upset him. But she had to help. It was what she wanted to do. Thank goodness her credit card had a ten thousand dollar limit. She approached the man at the desk.
“Excuse me.” She cleared her throat.
The man glanced up, brows rising in surprise. “Can I help you?”
“Er…yes, the Broken Spur Ranch…I’d like to pay off the balance of their account with you and cover the next payment of whatever Fenn said he needed.”
Nelson’s lips parted, and he shook his head slowly before stroking his beard with his fingers. Then he bent over his computer and started clicking away.
“Looks like it will be about four grand to cover what they owe and what they need for this month’s order.” He didn’t seem all that convinced that she would pay him. His eyes kept shifting from the screen to her face. If she’d had more time and energy she would have been insulted at the thought that men around here didn’t think she could follow through on anything.
“Do you take Visa?”
“Uh, why, yes we do.”
“Great.” She whipped out her card and slapped it on the counter. “Ring it up and hurry.”
Nelson took her card and ran it through his machine before printing out a receipt.
“We’ll have the order out to the ranch by tomorrow.”
“Thanks!” A warm fuzzy feeling encased her heart and she wanted to wriggle with the sense of joy that filled her. She loved helping people and rarely had the opportunity to do it. She almost started skipping like a kid as she headed out to the truck.
She halted mid-bouncing step when she caught sight of Fenn. He wasn’t moving. Just sitting there in the driver’s seat, eyes blank, jaw clenched. That deep sense of grief killed all her joy, like a gust of wind snuffing out a lone flame on a candle’s wick.
Approaching the truck’s passenger side, she opened the door and climbed in.
“Fenn.” She reached out and touched his arm. He flinched and then seemed to come back to himself.
“Sorry, I must have been thinking,” he muttered.
“Don’t worry about things so much. It will all work out.”
His harsh laugh cut through her to the bone.
“Not everything in this life is sunshine and rainbows. Maybe where you’re from it’s all cookie-cutter perfect and everyone is happy. But not here.”
She could almost feel the unspoken words, like a fine spun spider web—sensitive, delicate, barely there but so crucial.
Everything here is falling apart.
His life was crumbling around him, and she was helping to destroy it. She had shown up like a Trojan horse with a belly full of deception. She wanted to return him to Long Island for selfish reasons—to help her brother, to help Fenn’s family, and to earn that gold star of approval she’d never managed to get from her parents. In all of her planning she had never given any consideration to Fenn and his life here. Just because he’d been born on Long Island didn’t erase the fact that he’d spent almost his entire life here in Walnut Springs as the son of someone else, living a life he’d accepted and believed was his. Didn’t that make it just as important? A life worth fighting for?
His words cut deep, but she deserved the pain. Aside from her parents’ emotional distance and coldness, she’d been privileged, having everything she’d ever wanted except her freedom. Freedom was all Fenn had. What a funny pair they made.
“You’re right,” she whispered and buckled her seatbelt. Her eyes burned, and she looked out the window, watching a bus full of hikers drive past as it headed up the mountain, the path they would soon take. Suddenly cold, she rubbed her arms and wished she could lean against Fenn again. But that wasn’t possible. He’d thrust a barrier between them, and she was too weary to tear it down.
For a long minute neither of them moved. The truck stayed still and unstarted, stuck in the parking space. Finally Fenn reached behind the seat to the cramped confines of the tiny space behind her cushion.
“Use this. It will keep you warm.” He pulled out a long black coat, like the type she’d just bought for herself at Flint & Sons. A duster. He dropped it over her lap, tucking it in around her hips.
“Thank you.” She buried herself in its warmth and inhaled his scent. She shut her eyes, foolishly wishing that simple act could protect her from the world.
“I’m sorry.” Fenn’s gruff voice was accompanied by his hand stroking a lock of her hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
She finally opened her eyes, hating how fragile he made her feel. None of her usual bluster or bravado worked to keep him out of her head and her heart.
“Don’t be. You were right. I come from old money and being raised like that, I often forget how to see the rest of the world.”
He sighed. “Maybe that’s a good thing. In a way it’s like a type of innocence.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss into the crown of her hair.
How could he do that? Take such a simple act and turn it into something so powerful and intimate? As though he’d done so a thousand times.
“We should get going. It’s a long way home, and I have to figure out how to tell Jim we won’t be getting supplies this month.”
She bit her lip, debating before she took a chance. “Uh, about that…”
He stared at her, apparently waiting for her to continue.
“Well, I took you at your word and did what needed to be done. The supplies will arrive tomorrow.”
She expected steam to blow out of his ears at her confession. Scowling, he tipped his head back onto the seat, then exhaled.
“I should be surprised that you just bought your way out of a tough situation, but I’m not. Don’t do that again. Not for me. Ever.”
She sat up a little straighter. “So, you’re not angry.”
He grinned at her, the feral expression unsettling. “Oh, I’m furious, honey. If you and your brother plan on staying in town, you’ll have to abide by some rules when dealing with me. First rule: no financial bailouts okay? I don’t need your money. Jim and Callie don’t need your money. We’ll be paying you back as soon as we have the funds.”