The Trouble With Cowboys (19 page)

“Who is it? . . . Well, why not?” He laughed. “I would not. Well, maybe I would.”

Annie wet her sponge and wrung it out. She finished the side, leaving the wheels for last. She paused, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck. She wished she’d worn a hat, but she hadn’t expected to be outdoors. Her cheeks were probably already pink.

“He definitely likes you . . . Well, that’s what boys do.”

Annie squatted down, smiling, and washed the rims.

“Yeah, you could do that . . . Well, sure, that too, but you don’t want to be too obvious, you know. Boys like a challenge.”

She rolled her eyes and scrubbed hard at the wheel well. The sun ducked behind a huge cloud, offering a reprieve.

“All right. You’re welcome, sweetie. See ya at church.”

He hung up the phone and appeared at the bucket the same time she did.

He smiled. “Girls.”

She wrung out her sponge, leaving the bucket to him, and went to finish the wheels. “She call often?”

“Now and then.”

“Sounds like she’s got a boyfriend.”

“Boy better treat her right, or he’ll have me to reckon with.”

“Between you and Wade, the kid’ll be lucky to get within a mile of her.”

“So long as he knows that.”

Annie finished the second rim and went to scrub a spot she’d missed by the door handle. “Poor girl won’t have a boyfriend till she’s twenty.”

“All the better.”

She shook her head. “Oh brother. No double standards there, Mr. Date
du Jour
.”

On the other side of the cab his squeaky circles stopped. “You saying I have double standards?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“What I thought.”

A quick spray of water hit the top of her head.

“Hey!” She looked through the windows at Dylan’s smirk.

He hiked a brow as another spray arced over the cab.

“You better watch yourself, buster.”

His smile widened. “Or else . . . ?”

“I have a bucket over here, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Another spray of water hit the top of her head. She sucked in a breath at his nerve, wiping the drizzle from her face.

“You asked for it, buddy.” Tossing the sponge, she raced for the bucket. It was heavy and awkward. Water sloshed with each step.

Dylan waited on the other side, leaning casually against the truck. He was pointing the nozzle at her, all John Wayne.

She froze, panting, the bucket at the ready.

“Mine reaches farther . . . ,” he said.

“Mine’s dirty.”

“Take my chances.” He let loose a spray of water that caught her on the stomach.

She released a squeal.

Just as quickly, the spray ended. Her shirt stuck to her stomach. She stood stock still, dripping.

She fixed her eyes on him, then she sprang forward, heaving the bucket.

Time slowed. His eyes widened, his mouth went slack. He closed his eyes as the wall of water hit him with a satisfying slosh, knocking his hat from his head.

Laughter bubbled up inside her, but before it found release, he bounded toward her, extending the nozzle. She turned and yelped as a burst of water hit her square in the back.

Rounding the truck, she sought shelter from the assault, but he followed, spraying. “No fair! I’m defenseless—”

“Shoulda thought about that before you dumped that bucket on me, woman.” He caught her around the waist.

The water off, she didn’t fight him. She turned, stepping away, wiping her face with her wet sleeve. Dylan’s hair was plastered to his head, his hat replaced by a cap of suds.

The laugh that had bubbled in her belly moments earlier found release.

He smoothed his hair back, removing the bubbles as his eyes narrowed. “Something funny, missy?”

Prince Charming, soaked and sudsed. Hilarious. A stick of grass was plastered to his cheek, and rivulets of water trickled down his temples.

He calmly cocked his head and raised the spray gun.

“Don’t.” She took a step back, sobering, except for a tiny gurgle that slipped out.

He stepped forward, mischief in his eyes.

She stepped back, one step, two. Then she hit the truck. “Dylan. . .”

He continued advancing until the nozzle was inches from her belly. His eyes danced. “Say uncle, Annie.”

She bit back her laughter. “Uncle Annie.”

“Come on now . . . no escaping me this time.” His gaze skimmed over her face. His eyes danced over her cheeks, her nose, her lips.

His appraisal was like a touch. Gooseflesh rippled down her arm. Suddenly aware of his nearness, she couldn’t seem to draw breath into her frozen lungs.

By the time his eyes returned to hers, the twinkle had dismounted, the easy laughter now galloping into the sunset. The corners of his lips gave in to gravity, erasing his dimple.

Oxygen-deprived, she sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, her nostrils with his musky scent. The heat of his body, so close, made her tremble.

His eyes. She couldn’t look away from them. Brown pools of melting chocolate. Warm. Serious. Fastened on her.

He framed her face with his strong hands and lowered his mouth to hers.

She stretched toward him like a flower toward the sun and was rewarded with a surge of something pleasant and exhilarating. His lips moved over hers with unbearable tenderness. His ministrations were unhurried, as if savoring the taste of her. Inside, a quake started in the vicinity of her heart, spreading through her limbs and turning her legs to jelly.

He jerked back suddenly, emptying the space between them.
His eyes widened. His hands lifted slowly in surrender. “Annie . . . I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t think past the pleasant chemicals surging through her, past his intoxicating touch. She wanted it back. Now.

She latched onto his shirt, tugging, and pressed her mouth to his.

His groan sent a tremor of pleasure through her. His arms came around her, and he deepened the kiss, taking her someplace far away, a place from which she never wanted to return.

He forked his fingers through her wet hair, and she heard a low, throaty moan. Hers?

What kind of man was this whose touch made her feel so much? No one, ever, had turned her upside down, inside out, and made her desperate for more. Certainly not John and his tepid kisses.

The fuzzy thought took shape, growing slowly into focus.

John.

Her boyfriend.

He wasn’t the man kissing her now. The man
she
had brazenly pulled into her arms.

She let loose of the material wadded in her fists and pushed. Dylan’s lips left hers, and she swallowed the whimper that rose in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” Her words sounded rushed and breathless.

She jerked her hands from his chest. No more touching. None whatsoever. She smoothed her hair, turning her back to him, afraid of what he’d see in her eyes. Afraid even more of what she’d see in his. Like humor or teasing.

She couldn’t bear it if he teased her now. Not when she’d so foolishly laid it all out there like that.

God, what have I done? He’ll never let me live this down
.

Prince Charming had worked his magic on her, and she’d
fallen under his spell, just like all the others. Worse, she knew it was more than physical. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen so quickly. So hard.

She had to get out of there. Far away. Out of sight, out of mind, or so she hoped. “I should go. I have to go.” She started toward her truck.

“Annie, wait.”

Hearing his footsteps, she quickened her own. “Don’t, Dylan.”

She dug for her keys and had them at the ready by the time she entered her truck. Without a second look she started the engine and drove past him, a still, lone figure in her peripheral vision.

Dear Fearful in Great Falls,

    
Don’t be anxious about the feelings stirring inside. Sure, love can hurt, but what’s life without love?

21

D
ylan retrieved the hose and pointed the nozzle at the truck, his mind spinning, his hands shaking. What in the blue blazes just happened?

You kissed her, idiot, that’s what happened. And she kissed you back
.

He’d been headlong into that first kiss when he’d come to his senses. He was kissing Annie Wilkerson. Kissing someone else’s girl.

When he’d pulled away, he’d half expected her hand to come cracking across his jaw. What he hadn’t expected was her reeling him back in for take two.

Have mercy.

I’m in deep trouble here, God. Deep, deep trouble
.

A magpie chattered from a nearby branch. The spray of water was hitting the truck’s hood and hadn’t moved since he’d begun.

It was just a kiss, right?

He pocketed his trembling hand, spraying down the soapy side of the truck. His thoughts replayed the kiss, lingering over it until he was torn up inside all over again. Despite all of Annie’s rebuffs, despite her supposed exasperation with him, despite the fact that she was taken . . .

She’d kissed him back.

And initiated the second kiss. He couldn’t stop the little thrill that passed through him, felt heady with it. But what did it mean? Had he just caught her off guard? Was it only because she was used to Oakley and his—he could only imagine—lame kisses?

Who was he kidding? That kiss,
those
kisses, had been more than a surprise. More than your everyday, run-of-the-mill kisses. More than he’d ever felt with any woman. Had Annie felt the same thing?

He was half tempted to chase her down and pick up where they’d left off. He let loose of the trigger, shutting off the flow of water.

But therein lay the trouble. Annie had already reached in somehow, gotten through his walls. For the first time he was tempted to lower them. Maybe he could love again. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt this time.

He dropped the hose, retrieved his hat, and headed toward the house, shaking water from the brim. Maybe he could move past his pain with the right woman. Wade had managed it after losing his wife, his rodeo career. Took him awhile, took the right woman, but he’d done it.

The thought of putting himself out there again made his legs
shake. He sank onto the porch steps. He felt like a coward. But Merilee had done a job on him, and what kind of fool signed up for that kind of pain twice?

He’d been head over heels for the girl. They met after a rodeo in Waco. He was high on a win, and he was smitten with her from the moment he saw her across the room at El Charro.

She said yes when he asked her out, and they talked for hours in his truck afterward, both of them reluctant to say good night. Originally from Oklahoma, she’d moved to Waco to attend Baylor and was set to graduate with a teaching degree the following year.

They became exclusive almost immediately. For the first time Dylan didn’t miss other girls. Didn’t want to flirt with anyone else. He spent his days working a ranch and his evenings with Merilee. She was passionate about her faith, could talk intelligently about any subject, and she was a great listener.

When he told her he loved her one night, tears had filled her eyes and she’d returned the words. After that their good night kisses became longer, and his resolve to wait for marriage was sorely tested.

She was a couple weeks from graduation when they slipped over the line, and once they did, it seemed impossible to return to mere kisses, especially when she was going back home for a couple of months following graduation.

Dylan wanted to go with her, but he couldn’t afford to leave his job. Besides, the two months would go quickly, she promised.

The one thing her absence taught him was that he never wanted to be separated again. The phone calls were too short and e-mail too distant. He wanted her with him every day, every night. He wanted to share her life.

When she’d been gone a month, he made up his mind. He was
going to ask her to marry him. He’d have to move from his bunkhouse, but with both their incomes they could afford an apartment or even a starter house.

His winnings from his last rodeo long gone, he made the difficult decision to sell his horse. Merilee deserved a nice ring, not some flimsy piece of tin with a flea-sized diamond. By the time she returned, he had it all planned out. With the little left over from the sale of Fritz, he took her to her favorite restaurant.

She seemed distracted during the meal, so he suggested the River Walk afterward. Pretty and free, it had become one of their favorite things to do.

His hand became sweaty in hers as they walked the long, curving path, but he wasn’t nervous, only excited. Excited to be with Merilee again, excited at the thought of their future.

Just when he thought he couldn’t contain himself a minute longer, she spoke.

“I’m glad you suggested a walk, Dylan. I—we really need to talk.”