12-Alarm Cowboys (50 page)

“I better hit the shower, too.”

Walking away, Carly pursed her lips and blew out a hot stream of air. Him being civil was tough enough on her libido. Now she had the picture of a naked, wet Jeremiah in her head.

Not wanting to track manure through the house, she took off her boots at the door before entering and making her way up the stairs. She headed straight to the shower with its lovely shower head that poured water like a soft rain over her head and never grew cold no matter how long she stood beneath it.

But eventually, she acknowledged her hunger, turned off the water, and then reached for a big fluffy towel. At that moment, she realized she’d forgotten to bring along clean clothing.

No worries, Jeremiah had likely finished his shower long ago and was already digging into his meal. She opened the door and padded toward her bedroom.

Just as she was reaching for the knob, she saw another door open, just past the staircase.

Jeremiah stepped out into the hallway, his hair wet and looking cool and clean in his chambray shirt and Wranglers.

Before she could push open the door and jump inside, she watched his head turn.

His gaze trailed from her sodden hair, dripping on her shoulders to the towel she’d knotted between her breasts. “See you downstairs,” he said, his voice thick, and then he strode quickly to the staircase and out of her sight.

She opened her door, entered, and then sagged against the cool wood. Would she ever catch a break with the man? First, he’d rubbed horseshit off her face, and then he’d caught her looking like a drowned rat.

She must be the most unappealing woman he’d ever had the misfortune to have under his roof—even if only for a few days. For once, she wished she had something stylish in the closet to pull out and wow him with. Then maybe he’d see her as something other than some white-trash nuisance.

Although she wasn’t entirely sure how she’d deal with anything other than his annoyance and mistrust. Just the thought of him ever showing any masculine interest made her heart stutter and her palms sweat.

No, she was better off to never entertain those thoughts. Jeremiah was way out of her league, and too much history existed between them—all of it bad—to think that a little spark of attraction might catch fire.

Jeremiah was sitting
at the table when Carly entered the kitchen. She flashed Mayra a quick smile, a gesture that tightened his gut because her smile stretched her bowed lips and reminded him she was a pretty woman.

Carly didn’t glance his way until she set down the plate Mayra handed her and took her seat. And then, she aimed her wide gaze his way, reminding him of the shock that produced a pink blush when he’d caught her in nothing but a towel upstairs.

“You clean up nice,” he drawled, eyeing her long-sleeved, gray plaid cotton blouse and crisp blue jeans. Her wet hair was pulled into a tight ponytail which only emphasized her large eyes.

“I smell better too,” she said, a wry smile curving her mouth.

He felt an answering grin tugging at his lips.

“So, who’s teaching me to milk a goat?”

He shook his head. “That can wait. Since you said you’re not comfortable around horses, I thought we’d take a mule out to check the canyon rim.”

She frowned. “How’s riding a mule any different than riding a horse?”

“Not that kind of mule, Carly.”

“Oh. You mean the dune buggy kind.”

He gave her a nod then dug into his roast beef sandwich, unwilling to enter into more of a conversation on the odd chance they’d end up arguing again. He wanted to see her finish her meal this time.

She took a bite, and then her eyes rounded. “Hot-hot!” She chewed vigorously, swallowed, and reached for her glass of iced tea. “What’s in the sandwich?”

“There’re some mild jalapenos in Mayra’s chipotle spread. If it’s too much, you can make another.”

She shook her head and took another bite, this one smaller. “No,” she said after swallowing. “I just wasn’t expecting the heat. This is good.”

They ate in companionable silence, Carly’s eyes only watering a little, until they’d both finished. When he saw her rise and begin gathering dishes, he said, “Leave them. I’ll bring the mule around to the back.”

Minutes later, he pulled up beside the porch where Carly waited. She took her seat beside him, and he reached behind him for a hat and gloves. “Wear these. The month may be March, but the sun’s high. You still might burn.”

“Yes, sir.”

He glanced sideways. She wasn’t being a smart-ass. Much. “Guess I should have said please.”

“If you wanted me to believe you’re polite…” she said, nodding, a twinkle of humor in her eyes.

Feeling strangely light-hearted, he pressed the accelerator and headed away from the house. The sun was high overhead, and the dry air was heating up. In another month, the temperatures would be unrelenting. But for now, and for the prescribed burn, the sunny sky was no threat.

They traveled a gravel ranch road until they came to a gate. Before he could jump out, he saw Carly slide from her seat and unlatch the gate, letting it swing wide and waving him inside. He drove through and waited for her to climb back inside. “I could have managed that.”

“Why should you? Today, I’m one of the hands.”

The words were on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was his guest. That he’d wanted her company, but he still wasn’t sure about her. Didn’t quite trust his own judgment concerning her character—his attraction could be clouding his mind. Instead, he gave her a nod and off they went. He followed the curving bluff at the edge of the canyon to a point just above the herd and idled the engine.

“How many head of cattle do you have down there,” she asked, staring out at the plain below them.

“We have them split right now. That group’s only about four hundred.”

“Only?” She sniffed.

“Yeah, their scent carries.”

She coughed. “It’s not bad. Kind of like horse manure isn’t that bad when you get used it. It’s just the dust,” she said, her eyes blinking.

“In the summer when the ground’s bone dry, you can see the dust before you see the cattle.”

“Has to be hard trying to feed them all.”

“The grass is green now, but we have to rotate them, drive them from one side of the ranch to the other. If there’s any rain, we don’t have to buy too much hay.”

“You lost three hundred acres of hay when that fire jumped the rim,” she said softly, her gaze sliding away toward the herd.”

“I won’t lie. That year was tough. I had to borrow heavy to keep the herd fed. Had to sell more than I was comfortable selling and at a rock-bottom price. The fire nearly ruined me, Carly. But it also gave me a purpose.”

At her surprised glance, he gave her a tight smile. “My father had just died, and I’d inherited the ranch. The fire offered me a challenge. Something to overcome. Kept my mind off how much I missed him, because I was scrambling to survive.”

Her head dropped. “I’m really sorry, Jeremiah. For your daddy, for what I caused.” She turned to meet his gaze. “What happened was…stupid. The dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I knew I’d hurt you, but I had no idea how bad things were.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad, Carly. I know you learned a hard lesson, but I wanted you to know that I’m fine. That you didn’t cause me any lasting damage. I don’t want my pound of flesh.” He lowered his voice. “Not anymore.”

“Why? You were still pretty mad yesterday.”

“Seeing you again made the memories fresh. When I saw you lift your chin, like you were ready for a fight, I reacted harshly. I wanted to bring you out here today so I could apologize.”

If she looked surprised, he was no less. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d invited her to come, but now that he’d said the words, they felt right. He lifted his hand and held it out. “Can we start over, Carly Lohan?”

She eyed his hand, and for once, her expression didn’t hold an ounce of wary defiance. Her gaze was steady, a deep wet gray. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice sounding a little hoarse.

When their palms met, he felt an arc of heat bolt through him. An electric rush of deep desire. With a quick intake of air, he realized he wanted her—in his bed, beneath him. The depth of his need to make love to Carly Lohan nearly sucked the breath from his lungs. And by the way her cheeks flooded with color and her pupils dilated, maybe she wanted him, too.

He released her hand and faced forward, the shock leaving him a little unsettled. “Let’s check the rim. I instructed a couple of the hands to plow up dirt for fire breaks—just as a precaution. I’d like to see if they’re done.”

With the engine humming loudly, he didn’t have to talk. And he kept his gaze straight ahead, aware from the corner of his eye that she was staring. He began to warm. His groin throbbed. Damn, he hadn’t shown this little control over his libido since he was a teenager. He’d certainly never felt this level of anticipation—not even before he’d bedded his ex-wife Melanie for the first time.

Carly was more exciting. Her fierce temper matched his. As did her stubborn pride. They both tended to say things that sliced through flesh. Perhaps they flayed each other, not out of hatred or old hurts, but because they were both fighting their attraction.

Made sense. Question was, did she know why she was so sensitive around him, so ready to take offense?

They reached the outer fence that ran just inside the canyon rim. Beyond it stretched Caldera Canyon. He cut the engine, reached for water bottles, and stepped out of the mule, leaning his butt against the vehicle as he stared over the deep gash cut into the plain by the river at its rocky bottom.

Carly leaned beside him. He handed her a bottle, and she twisted off the lid and took a deep draw.

When she lowered the bottle, she glared. “What? You’re staring. Did it dribble down my chin?” A hand swiped up her neck.

“You know it didn’t.” Because he was still feeling off-kilter about his attraction, he turned away.

She cleared her throat. “It’s beautiful, this view.”

“You should see it when the wildflowers bloom. Looks like a blue-and-red carpet down there.

“Bluebonnets, paintbrush.” A faint smile curved her mouth. “I’ve seen it from down there, but I can only imagine what it’s like from up high.” She turned her face toward him. “The burn won’t hurt the wildflowers?”

“No, they’ll be back. Probably prettier.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the tall grass. “This where the fire leapt out of the canyon?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s strange. When I think of this place, I imagine it should be somehow…scarred.”

“It’s not. If anything, the hay’s been richer ever since.”

“I’m glad I didn’t do permanent damage.”

Jeremiah stared down at his water bottle. “I was serious before.”

She stayed still, staring at the plain. “About?”

“The fact I’m over being mad, Carly.”

Her shoulder slid against his as she turned. “Guess I’m over being a bitch.” Her mouth quirked at one side.

He grunted.

“Wish you wouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

“What?”’

“Make that noise.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, but her wide gaze remained locked with his.

He studied her face. Saw the same awakening yearning he was feeling. “Come here,” he said, trying not to sound too gruff, but his voice was tightening right along with the rest of his body.

She moved closer, her arms at her sides, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and he knew she wanted this moment too. He gripped her upper arms, trying to be gentle, and slid his thumbs up and down her shirtsleeve, wishing he touched bare skin.

Her hands came up, her fingers gripped his belt at his sides, and then she slid her chest against his as she rose slowly on tiptoe.

Jeremiah’s breath hitched, and he bent his head. With only an inch between their mouths, he stared at her lovely face. The moment felt bigger than it probably was. But he’d never been this hungry for a kiss. With a soft curse, he lowered again and kissed her.

‡

C
arly didn’t let
herself think what that soft
dammit
had meant. Jeremiah’s hands were locking around her arms and drawing her closer. His mouth was busy roaming hers, moving in circles that drew her deeper and deeper into lust for the man.

Her thumbs slipped behind his belt and stroked his hips through his shirt. Her nipples tingled as they hardened against his chest. And there, between her legs, her pussy grew moist.

His hands slid from her arms to behind her back, and he held her closer, one hand pressing on her ass to force her against his erection, the other rising to cradle the back of her head. When he lifted his mouth, he stared down at her, ripening the tension between them.

Because she didn’t know what to say, was half-afraid any words would jolt him back to reality and remind him just who he held, she let her eyelids drift lazily downward, signaling her surrender.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, then pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“Too much effort,” she said, her mouth curving into a ghost of a smile.