Читать книгу Should've Been a Cowboy - Vicki Lewis Thompson - Страница 11

TYLER HUNG ON TO the bedpost to keep herself from walking right into Alex’s arms. Her strong response to him scared her a little. No, it scared her a lot. She hadn’t planned on this kind of complication.

Releasing her hold on the bedpost, she walked over to her suitcase, her legs trembling from the adrenaline rush of wanting Alex. Maybe she should leave, catch a flight out of Jackson and return to her little apartment in L.A. Then her longing for Alex Keller couldn’t possibly create a detour on her carefully charted course.

She couldn’t leave, though. Morgan would be crushed, and Morgan was the person Tyler had come here for. When Tyler had walked into baggage claim at the airport and caught sight of Morgan waiting for her, they’d both squealed and jumped up and down like teenagers. Their hug had been awkward because of Morgan’s big belly, but that hug might have been the happiest, and the most tearful one, they’d ever shared.

No, Tyler couldn’t pack up her marbles and go home just because Alex happened to be living here and he tempted her with the kind of bone-deep commitment that might make her forget all about her promotion opportunity. Unzipping her suitcase, she rummaged through it looking for jeans and a T-shirt, both of which she’d bought last week for this trip to the ranch.

She loved her job, loved the challenge of making a ship full of passengers happy while seeing the world she’d always dreamed of as a child. As a bonus, she could afford nice clothes and regular trips to the ship’s beauty salon. She’d been raised to dismiss such things as unimportant, but her parents’ disdain for material wealth had meant their kids never wore anything new and got haircuts at home.

Tyler agreed that character was more important than outward appearance, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with being a worthwhile person who happened to be well dressed and well groomed. In the first place her job demanded it, and in the second place, looking good didn’t mean she was shallow and materialistic.

Once she’d left home—or rather, the wildly painted van that had been a home on wheels for her entire childhood—she’d vowed to find a profession that allowed her to buy pretty clothes and patronize a good salon. And travel well. She adored seeing new places and having new experiences, but she never wanted to camp out again as long as she lived.

The cruise business was a perfect fit for her, with the tiny exception of having no room for a man in her packed schedule. Alex had quickly uncovered the one disadvantage to her chosen lifestyle. That might be another reason the night with him in the hayloft sparkled so brilliantly in her memory. She hadn’t had many such experiences since taking a job with the cruise company.

She’d have to figure out how to fill that lack, but now wasn’t the time to worry about it. She was one world cruise away from nailing the job she’d coveted from the beginning—cruise director. Sure, it would be more responsibility, but she had tons of ideas and the job would give her the authority to act on them.

Tossing her dress on the bed and taking off her sandals, she put on the snug jeans and formfitting yellow T-shirt with the scoop neck. She hadn’t brought anything baggy to wear because baggy wasn’t her style. As a kid she’d been forced to wear clothes that didn’t quite fit, so now she chose outfits that showed off her figure.

Alex might think she did that to attract a man, but that wasn’t really her goal. She bought the outfits to please herself. She’d spent too much time as a child hating the shabby girl she saw every day in the mirror.

Once she’d put on socks and running shoes, she took a deep breath. Then she opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. Alex leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed as he waited for her, long legs stretched out, a tooled belt that drew attention to his narrow hips, and a chambray shirt that emphasized his broad chest and wide shoulders. Her heart rate kicked up. She couldn’t help that automatic reaction, but she didn’t have to give in to its power.

Male appreciation flickered in his gaze before he pushed himself away from the wall. His expression became a careful mask. “Ready?”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

He laughed. “You might want to rephrase that.”

“Is everything between us going to turn into a sexual joke? Because that won’t work.”

He started toward the stairs. “I’ll try to do better if you’ll try to avoid saying things like show me what you’ve got. You have to admit that line begged to be turned into something suggestive.”

“I was referring to your … oh, never mind.” She descended the winding staircase beside him, her palm sliding down a banister smoothed by countless other hands, and possibly a few fannies, too. The house and its history fascinated her. That kind of permanence and connection between generations was foreign, almost exotic, and she’d learned to appreciate exotic experiences during her travels.

She glanced down into the living room with its leather furniture grouped around the massive fireplace, and remembered that Alex was missing two of his three canopies for the open house. “Were you planning to make use of this space tomorrow?”

“I hadn’t thought I would. This area seems more private. I’ve called the event an open house, but I wasn’t really figuring on opening the actual house, just the grounds and the barn.”

“If it rains, you might not have that luxury. How would Sarah feel about extending the event into the living room and possibly the dining room?”

“I don’t know, but let’s see if there are alternatives before we ask her. She might agree, but I doubt if the Chance brothers would like it. They’re protective about this house.”

Tyler paused at the foot of the stairs to glance around. “I can understand that. I—”

She was interrupted as the front door opened. A blast of cool air was followed by a broad-shouldered cowboy sporting a sandy-colored mustache. Until he took off his hat, Tyler didn’t recognize that he was her brother-in-law, Gabe. She hadn’t seen him since the wedding last August, and apparently he’d decided to grow a mustache over the winter months.

“Tyler!” He pulled her into a quick hug scented with horse and dust. “Thanks for coming. Morgan sounded so excited when I talked to her. I know it means the world to her that you made the effort.”

“I’m glad it worked out.” She stepped back and smiled at him. “I can tell you’re treating her right. She’s really happy.”

“I hope so.” Gabe turned and hooked his hat on a rack standing beside the front door. “We didn’t plan for her to get pregnant this quick, but …” He shrugged.

“She doesn’t seem to mind a bit.”

Gabe scrubbed a hand through his hair, which bore the imprint of his hat. “No, she really doesn’t, and I can’t tell you how relieved I am about that. When we first got together she wasn’t sure she ever wanted kids.” He glanced over at Alex. “Looks like the two of you were headed outside.”

“That was the plan,” Alex said.

“Then you’d better get going. The clouds are moving in.”

“We’ll go fast,” Tyler said. “I just want a quick overview.”

Gabe looked puzzled. “Of what?”

“She’s going to save my ass,” Alex said. “Some of my plans for tomorrow have fallen through, but as luck would have it, an activities director from a major cruise line just showed up and offered to help me put on this shindig.”

“That’s the Chance luck working for you,” Gabe said.

“But I’m not a Chance.”

Gabe clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re part of the family, so that makes you an honorary Chance. As such, you might as well learn the family motto handed down from Grandpa Archie.”

“Which is?”

“Chance men are lucky when it counts.”

Alex sent the briefest glance toward Tyler. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tyler waited until they were out the door and standing on the covered porch before she commented. “I saw that look.”

“What look?” Alex had grabbed a gray-felt cowboy hat from the same rack Gabe had used. Holding it by the crown, he settled it on his head with practiced ease.

“The look you gave me when Gabe told you about the family motto. Just to be clear, the motto is ‘Chance men are lucky,’ not ‘Chance men get lucky.’” But, oh, man, he’d increased his odds exponentially by adding the hat. She couldn’t say what it was about a guy in a Stetson, but wearing one sure did multiply the sexy factor.

Alex laughed. “What made you think I had any such thoughts?”

“Are you saying you didn’t?”

He gazed at her for a moment before answering with a brief smile. Then he turned to study the darkening sky. A tug on the brim of his hat brought it lower over his eyes. “We need to take that tour of the ranch ASAP before the storm hits.”

Tyler’s breath caught. The hat was a sexy addition, but when Alex took hold of the brim and pulled it down, she melted. One little innocent gesture created a soulstirring image of courage and purpose, of protecting the weak, and shoot-outs in the middle of a dusty street at high noon.

That simple movement made Alex seem more focused and intense, even a little bit dangerous. No doubt about it, there was something compelling about a guy wearing a cowboy hat. For a gorgeous specimen like Alex, it was almost overkill.

She took a deep breath of air that already smelled of rain. “Lead on.” She followed him down the porch steps.

Once they moved away from the shelter of the two-story ranch house, the wind cut through the light cotton of her T-shirt.

“The hands set up bleachers over by the largest corral.” Alex pointed to a spot where a small set of metal bleachers had been erected. “I’d planned to protect the guests with a canopy, but now I only have one, and the food and beverages should be under cover, either for shade or rain protection.”

“Let’s check out the barn.” She started toward the large hip-roofed structure that was the biggest building on the property outside of the main house. “There should be places in there where people can get in out of the rain.”

“At least it’s clean as a whistle. The hands have been working on it all day. They’ll go through again first thing in the morning, but they’ve put down fresh straw everywhere and set out some fresh hay bales which can be used for seating.”

“I can smell the hay from here.” And the scent turned her on. She still had a three-inch piece of it she’d plucked from the mounds scattered in the hayloft. It sat on a shelf along with her collection of souvenirs from her travels, and every once in a while she’d pick it up and sniff it. The aroma was fading, but her memories of Alex never had.

Last August as she and Alex had gathered up their clothes in preparation for leaving, Alex had explained that the ranch had outgrown the capacity of the hayloft and it was now strictly ornamental. A hay barn held the bales that supplied the ranch animals. But the old barn was the only structure left of the original ranch buildings, and so the Chance brothers threw some loose hay up in the loft every spring because their father had liked the picturesque way it looked.

The romance of that tradition had appealed to Tyler. She’d wondered if Jonathan Chance had enjoyed an episode or two in the hayloft himself. She’d asked Alex, but he hadn’t known much about the family secrets at that point. Now that he was an honorary Chance, he might.

Two dogs were stretched out in front of the barn, one on either side of the open door. Tyler remembered them from her first visit last summer. At Alex and Tyler’s approach, the dogs lifted their heads and thumped their tails in the dirt.

“Hey, Butch.” Alex leaned toward the dog on the right side of the door. Butch was medium-size, with a short tan-and-white coat and a snub nose. Alex scratched behind Butch’s ears and the dog’s tail thumped faster.

“Right. This other one’s Sundance.” Tyler figured the dog on the left, all black with slightly curly hair, was her responsibility to pet. “Hi, Sundance.” She stroked the dog’s silky head. Dogs would have been a luxury when she was growing up, so she’d never had one, or a cat, either. She liked animals, but she wasn’t used to them.

If an animal rooted a person to one spot, and Tyler thought maybe they did, then the Chance family must really be rooted with all the ones they had around here. Besides the horses, they had these dogs, a few barn cats and at least one goat, if she remembered correctly. Last summer she’d been a bridesmaid, so she’d been concentrating on the wedding instead of cataloguing the animals, so she could be wrong about the goat.

She certainly remembered the hayloft, though. The details of that area were permanently recorded in high def, probably even 3-D, and the movie flickered in her head every time she looked at Alex. Even if they never touched again, she would never forget those glorious hours in his arms.

Another gust of wind whipped up the dust at their feet and would have blown off Alex’s hat if he hadn’t grabbed it at the last minute. Thunder rolled overhead.

He straightened and glanced at the dark clouds hovering over the ranch. “We’d better finish up this tour and get back to the house.” He walked through the large door and flicked a switch to his right, which turned on a row of ceiling lights that ran the length of the stalls.

As Tyler followed him into the barn, the scent of fresh hay swirling around her was an aphrodisiac more tempting than she could have imagined. Her body hummed with eagerness. They’d kissed here in the barn before climbing into the hayloft. The kiss had begun as gentle exploration and had ended with enough heat to melt all her inhibitions.

The open house, she reminded herself. She was here to evaluate the space for entertainment possibilities. The barn was quiet except for the sound of horses munching their evening meal. Somewhere a horse stomped a hoof, and another blew out a noisy breath. The scent of oiled leather mixed with the aroma of hay.

“I guess all the hands headed for the bunkhouse when they saw the storm coming,” Alex said.

“Smart.” She chose not to glance over at him as they stood in the center aisle of the barn only about two feet apart. Hearing his voice in this setting reminded her of how he’d murmured in her ear as he’d undressed her, and how he’d coaxed her to new heights of pleasure during that long, glorious night.

His voice had been a big part of the attraction early on. Hearing it coming through the sound system during the reception had begun the seduction, and by the time the festivities were over and she’d suggested moving the party to the hayloft, she’d been more than ready to hear that voice in a more intimate setting.

The open house, girl! You told him you’d help him plan his party! She cleared her throat. “If you lined the center aisle with tables for food and beverages, you could sweep out a few stalls and have potential seating in those. People could meander up and down this aisle and be close to the horses, which is what you want, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Right?” she prompted, turning to him.

“Yeah.” His tone was husky, and he gazed at her with longing in his eyes.

Her heart began to pound. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Can’t help it.” He took a step toward her.

She thought about moving back. She didn’t. “We talked about this.” But her words lacked all conviction.

“I don’t want to talk.” He reached for her.

“Me neither.” With a groan she surrendered to the kiss she’d been craving for ten long months, the kiss she’d promised herself wouldn’t happen, the kiss that was so … damn … good.