Читать книгу Still Irresistible - Dawn Atkins - Страница 12

THE SUN HAD STREAKED the sky with color when Callie marched down the porch, her red leather boots clicking sharply against the wooden steps, the fringe on her matching jacket swinging free. She’d only worn this once to a Western-themed client event and wanted to get some use out of it. She’d dressed for wow factor, wanting to off-balance Deck a bit.

Beneath the jacket, she wore a white scoop-necked stretch top. On her head was her Stetson, bright white, spanking new.

Her stone-washed jeans hugged her hips and legs so tightly she could barely draw breath.

A mistake, she realized, standing on the porch. She had to get her legs up and over the barrel of a horse’s rib cage. Bad move. She turned to go change, but Deck called her name.

She’d just make these jeans work like the rest of her plan. She would ease into the ranch changes, break the news about selling off the livestock, and hope she could keep Deck on the team through the changeover.

When she got close enough, Deck deliberately thumbed his hat high up his forehead and whistled. “Niiice,” he said, “though I wouldn’t waltz in front of any bulls in all that red if I were you.”

Terrific. He was making fun of her.

“Those pants look downright painful.” He ran his eyes down her length, making her aware that he was a man and she was in skintight jeans that hugged her ass and pinched her sex—which got worse the longer he looked her over. “How do you even move?”

“I manage,” she said, lifting her chin.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining,” Deck said, his low tone and lazy gaze telling her the answer to her earlier question. Yeah, he still found her attractive. Arousal rolled through her. At least she wasn’t alone.

She climbed stiffly up the fence to sit on the top slat, acting as casually as she could manage. She’d have to drop onto her horse from up here. Throwing a leg up and over would snap a femur, she was sure. Deck tracked her every move.

Brandy gave an irritated snort. “Easy, girl.” Deck ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “I’ll ride Brandy, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” She was glad not to have to manage a horse so fresh to the saddle until she saw the horse Deck had chosen for her. Gray and swaybacked, with a low-hanging head and white hairs around its eyes and lips, the poor beast looked dead on its hooves. “This is my horse? He’s ancient.”

“Wiley’s older, but he’s steady and even tempered, which is what we need.”

“You think I need an old, slow horse?” she said testily.

“Brandy needs an old, slow horse.” He shook his head, smiling. Gotcha. Why was she like this around him? “Now if you want more of a challenge, be my guest…” He gestured at Brandy.

“I don’t want to interfere with your training.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” he said, not fooled by her fib. She hated that he saw right through her. Mostly because she couldn’t return the favor.

She scooted along the fence closer to the sagging spine of her horse. Reading her movements, Deck steered Wiley nearer. She dropped into the saddle, her jeans straining as her legs spread over Wiley’s ribs. She accepted the reins from Deck, then urged Wiley into a walk to get back her seat.

Deck opened the gate, then untied Brandy. “You ready for a ride, girl?” he murmured in a hypnotic tone, smoothing the horse with his broad palm, masterful and gentle, as if he understood each twitch of muscle, twist of tendon. “You are ready, aren’t you, girl?” He was wooing the horse. “You want a ride, don’t you? You want it, huh? Yeah, you do.”

Please stop. The words were making her hot. Any second, she’d blurt, “Yes! Yes I want it. I want it bad.”

Finally Deck swung smoothly onto Brandy’s back. The horse went still, reared, staggered backward, then lurched around the corral.

Callie tried to turn Wiley out of the way, but Brandy was too fast and banged into her horse’s rump. Wiley lunged forward, throwing Callie onto his neck. Her hat flew off and her pubic bone slammed into the saddle pommel. She yelped as pain burned through her.

“You okay?” Deck called, more worried about her than the rearing, spinning beast beneath him.

“I’m fine,” she choked out, needing to rub her bruised spot, but not wanting to do it in front of Deck.

“Hold tight. We’ll be back after we burn off some energy.” Deck leaned over Brandy’s neck and she took off out of the gate in a streak of shining muscle. Deck gave the horse her head, and they flew west across the field, making Callie’s heart lift at the beauty of horse and rider silhouetted against the changing colors of the sunset sky.

A horse running full out was an amazing sight. It was the fire, the energy, the way the creature’s whole being seemed focused on the run, like its heart would burst with the joy of it. Callie’s chest tightened. How had she forgotten this wonder?

Horse and rider were small in the distance when they finally swung back her way. By the time they reached the gate, Deck had Brandy in a relaxed lope and guided her effortlessly into the corral. Near the far fence, he leaned down to scoop up Callie’s Stetson, easy as a rodeo star. He returned to settle it on her head. His gaze took a lazy trip down her body, making her want to wiggle in the saddle. “You all set?”

She nodded. Soon they were on their way, riding in silence at first. Clouds to the west glowed pink, orange and purple. The air held a slight chill, and a light breeze carried the green scent of the Rio Feliz their way.

“We can go faster if you want,” she said. “I’m okay.”

“Slow and easy is fine.” He looked at her. “You were never much for taking your time.”

Her mind flashed on their frantic nights in each other’s arms. She swallowed hard. “Not usually, no.”

“If you rush, you miss things.”

“If you don’t rush, you miss things.”

He chuckled. “Ah, but when you slow down you catch all the details. You take it all in, enjoy every second, every inch.”

God, was he talking about sex? Or was she just fixated? She got that shivery feeling again. It didn’t help that the seam of her jeans rubbed her crotch with each roll of Wiley’s hindquarters. She shifted her weight to ease the itch.

“You okay?” Deck asked.

“I’m fine. Why?” She jerked her gaze to his.

“You seem…wiggly.” He swallowed and she realized her movements had aroused him. Good. It was no fun suffering alone.

“Just adjusting so I won’t be sore later.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” he said, pushing his hat harder onto his head. “Maybe hit the hot springs after. Good for sore muscles.”

And making love, she remembered. They’d been together at the springs and it had been warm and intimate and healing. “I’ll have to try that.” Her voice came out so husky she had to clear her throat. “Brandy seems more settled.”

“Getting there.”

“Dahlia sure was relieved not to have to ride with us.”

“True.” Deck chuckled. “She’s not much on the ranch.”

“What do you think of her?”

He shot his gaze to hers. “Cal’s fond of her.”

“And…”

“I don’t know her well,” he said, clearly choosing his words with care. “She keeps him…busy.”

“I found her kind of overwhelming, but she was nervous about meeting me. You were right about the peppermint tea, by the way. Her other teas are nasty?”

“Oh, yeah. She gave me one that was supposed to be good for my organs. Shriveled my tongue and I couldn’t taste for a day.”

“But did it help your organs?” Too late, she realized how he might take that.

“They survived.” He shot her that wicked half smile again. “I’m sure she means well. Cal seems happy enough.”

“He does. And kind of…dazed.”

“Maybe that’s how love works. Like a punch in the solar plexus you never catch your breath from. What do I know?”

Did that mean he’d never been in love, either?

They’d reached a barbed wire fence, beyond which she saw dozens of cattle, brown and black, most bent to chew the grass. Several rested under the roof of a ramada, others drank from a water trough beneath a slowly turning windmill. She used to ride out to check the herd with her father. She’d loved the huge eyes, the patient faces, the slow grind of their jaws on grass.

Tell him you’re selling them all. She opened her mouth to break the news, but an animal bellowed loudly. They both looked over to see a bull mount a cow, which staggered under the weight, but didn’t move away.

“Ah, romance,” Deck said.

“Is that what you call it?”

“No?” he asked. “Maybe that’s my problem with women.”

She laughed. “You have problems? I find that hard to believe.”

“I do all right, I guess.”

“No one special?” None of her business, but she had to ask.

“Not really. How about you?”

“We broke up a couple months back. He’s my business partner, actually.”

“Ouch. That’s got to be awkward.”

“Not as much as you’d think.” And that still bothered her. “So how many head do we have?”

“Couple hundred, mostly black Angus, a few red. A decent number of wild Corriente from Mexico. They do well with drought. Not nearly enough cow-calf pairs, though.”

“The supplemental feed costs are through the roof, Deck.”

“That’ll be offset by the alfalfa we’ll plant. The real problem is the herd is down. Like I said, your dad’s been hard to pin down. We had a chance at a bunch of steers and some pairs, but I couldn’t get his okay on the buy.”

Just as well, since we’ll be selling….

Deck dismounted to open the gate and she saw they’d be heading to the top of the hill over the river. She’d tell him there, when they stopped.

As they climbed, Brandy bucked and lunged and backtracked, though Deck patiently worked with her, training her as they traveled. Wiley conserved his energy with a slow, steady pace. She’d missed this, Callie realized, enjoying the slow roll of the horse beneath her. She’d loved even more the wind in her face on a full run, riding the surge of the horse’s lope. She used to feel part of Lucky, running free and feeling so alive.

They’d reached a wider section of trail so they could be side by side. “You enjoying yourself?” Deck asked.

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“You look good on a horse.”

“I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

“You stopped after Lucky died.”

“It was middle school and there was too much happening in school and with my friends in town. I got bored.”

“You rode that horse everywhere,” Deck mused. “I couldn’t believe you painted his hoofs pink with little daisies. And put glitter on his hide. Talk about humiliation.”

“Come on. Lucky didn’t mind.”

“You charmed him. But then you charmed everyone.” He smiled at her the way he had, as if he’d never met anyone like her, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course.” He held her gaze, telling her he remembered that and a whole lot more.

She shivered, feeling a rush of memory herself. Deck had made her feel special. And safe. Something she’d needed after her mother’s death, when the world seemed an unpredictable and dangerous place. She’d depended on Deck, on his arms, his kisses, his comfort.

Until he decided it was over. That had stung. She’d bounced back a bit and suggested they hang out in town, get a Coke at Ruby’s with her friends a few times. He’d declined, saying he had chores. A few days later he said they should end it. She was back to normal and it was time. He acted like he’d been doing her a favor.

Hurt and angry, she went back to her friends, to Taylor, who’d missed her terribly, and Deck went back to managing the ranch, and that was that. She’d be off to college soon anyway, what was the point in dragging it out?

All the same, the memories stuck. To this day, the smell of cedar blocks in her sweater drawer made her miss him.

Now they reached the top of the hill and she saw the Triple C spread out at her feet. Ahead lay the river, a lazy S curve lined by cottonwoods. Her heart lifted with pride. “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

Her father had worked and loved every acre for thirty years. She would make sure he kept it if it killed her. “I hope we don’t have to sell off this section,” she said, speaking before she’d thought through her words.

“What?” Deck turned to her abruptly. Brandy snorted.

“The river makes these acres attractive to developers. They’d be perfect for ranchettes.”

“We need these acres for grazing, not to mention deed and density restrictions and water rights. This is a desert, Callie.”

“I don’t want to sell if we don’t have to, but it’s an option. This is the future, Deck. In the last decade, half the guest ranches in the country have been sold off and developed. The land’s too valuable to leave raw.”

He looked at her, his cheek muscle ticking like a bomb about to blow. “We’d have to cut the herd.”

“About that…” She took a deep breath. “I plan to sell the livestock as soon as it’s feasible. I’ll need you to track the sales so we can maximize our profit.”

“You’re selling the cattle.” The words hung dead in the air.

“We’ve been losing money, especially with the drought. Our only hope is turning the ranch into a resort.”

He stared at her, so she kept talking. “I know you took the foreman job to help Dad and I’m very grateful to you for that.”

Supposedly, he’d been at loose ends after selling his family’s horse ranch after his mother remarried and moved to California, but she knew he’d acted out of kindness.

“If you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.” She stopped. “Of course, we’d love to keep you through the changeover. If you wanted to become the field manager after that, that would be wonderful. We’ll add trail horses, of course. You’d work more with guests and manage more staff, coordinate the recreational activities and things like that.”

“I’m a rancher, Callie, not some guy with a whistle and a volleyball net.” His voice was low.

“It’s totally up to you. If you decide to leave, just give us time to find and train your replacement.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He looked out toward the horizon for a long silent moment. Finally he turned to her, Brandy shifting impatiently beneath him. “It’s your land. Cal’s and yours. You can do with it what you want. As to my plans, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” That was that. The worst was over. Deck wasn’t happy, but now he knew the situation and could make his decision.

She took him in. Silhouetted by the glowing sunset sky, he looked like a painting of the last cowboy—noble, proud, connected to the land, full of dignity and strength.

And so sexy. She shivered.

“You cold?” he asked.

“Not really. No.” She wasn’t about to explain. “But the light’s fading. We should get back.”

Without another word, they turned their horses and headed downhill. Poor Wiley snorted and sagged as his tired knees took on the gentle slope. In the distance the ranch house glowed a golden welcome from the big picture windows. Smaller lights lit the few guest rooms in use.

That would all change. She’d build a new two-story wing of guest rooms and five new casitas. Besides updating the ranch house and old casitas, she’d landscape ten more acres around the ranch, put in a pool and a tennis court, not to mention the four-star spa. She would work her magic as quickly as she could, then escape.

At the base of the hill, Deck turned to the east, taking a different trail back—the one to the hot springs. She wanted to say Not now, not with you, but what excuse could she give?

Soon they rounded the bend to the main pool, five feet across, edged by large stones. Farther on, there were two smaller pools, one set away from the others, marked as private for the family’s use. In the summer, the entire area was bright with the red, orange and yellow of desert wildflowers.

“Remember this?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she said, meeting his gaze, heat like a hot wire between them. She looked down to the water, settling herself. Wiley shifted beneath her, reacting to her tension. “Is the water level constant? The heat? Is it mucky at all?”

“It’s the same, Callie,” he said. “Still deep, still nature’s hot surprise.”

“That’s good to hear.”

She was flooded with the memory of stripping in the night chill of early spring, slipping through the steam to meet Deck, naked and waiting for her. Sheltered by the rough stones, up to their necks in the water, breathing in the earthy smell, they’d seemed like the first man and woman in the garden.

That was so long ago. Wiley side-stepped, picking up her distress. “We’ll improve this, of course.” She had to stick to the task before her, not get lost in nostalgia or regret.

“Huh?”

“We need concrete steps and a handrail, for one thing. For safety and convenience.”

“You want to turn it into some Holiday Inn hot tub?”

“I’ve studied hot springs all over the Southwest. This is the norm, Deck.”

“It’s fine the way it is. Natural and beautiful.”

“It’ll be that, but better. I want to dig out the smaller pools. Maybe open up a fourth where the water slides down the rocks?” She pointed. “Fence it off so guests can reserve it for clothing-optional soaks.”

His expression made her decide not to mention the massage ramada, changing room and meditation garden she planned.

“They’re your springs,” Deck said wearily.

She could explain her reasoning, but what was the point? Deck loved the ranch as it was. She wouldn’t change his mind any more than he could change hers.

So, she simply turned Wiley toward home.

Catching sight of the barn, the tired horse lunged into a lope. Callie tightened her body and leaned forward, enjoying the free feeling and the speed for a few lovely moments.

Making the corral a few yards before Deck, Callie started to dismount to open the gate, praying her jeans had stretched out enough to allow her to do so with dignity. She was halfway down when Brandy arrived. She must have nipped Wiley’s hindquarters, because her horse whinnied and barreled forward. Callie landed on her butt in the dirt, biting her tongue and bruising her rear.

Deck was off Brandy in an instant to help her. “You okay?”

“I’b vine,” she managed, over her burning tongue. She grabbed her hat, pushed to her feet, then shoved the hat down hard, not allowing herself even a grimace from the pain. She moved for the gate, but her legs had that first-ride stiffness and she stumbled a bit.

Deck caught her arm, then brushed the dust from the back of her jeans. It was an innocent Eagle Scout gesture, but his hand was on her and he stood so close that the cedar, leather, sunshine smell of him made her go weak in the knees.

She stepped back to collect herself. “Thanks. I’m fine. Really.” She moved as if to loosen the saddle.

“I’ll put up the horses. Go on to supper,” Deck said, his voice rough, telling her he’d been affected, too.

“Okay, then. Thanks. Again.” She backed up, then bumped into the fence, flustered by the moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his gaze not letting go.

“Tomorrow. Sure.” She turned to walk away. Was he watching her? What was he thinking? And why did it matter?

He thought her plan was nuts. He was wrong and she intended to prove it to him. If he would just stop being so damned sexy all the time. And smelling so good. And the touching had to stop. Absolutely.

In fact, if she didn’t need his ranch expertise, she’d be half-glad if he decided not to stay at all.