A Real Cowboy Knows How to Kiss (15 page)

She and Steen had talked deeply over the last few days about his past and hers, but he'd continuously made it apparent that he believed their time together had to end when her stint as Josie's replacement was over. He'd erected a wall between them that she couldn't break through. She was incredibly frustrated with him. Why did he think she cared that he had been in prison? He was innocent, and she didn't need a pardon from the governor to know that.

But Steen was stubborn, and twice he'd actually walked out when she'd pushed too hard.

But now, he was here, at her office, looking like a civilized, incredibly handsome fantasy man as he lounged in the doorway of the clinic's business office. He was still wearing his battered cowboy hat, but his dark blue jeans looked brand new, as did his blue plaid shirt that made his eyes vibrant. Even his well-creased cowboy boots had clearly been polished up for the night. His jeans were low on his hips, showcasing his lean physique and his broad shoulders. He was almost clean-shaven, with a hint of whiskered shadow on his face, as if he couldn't quite eliminate it. In the short time since she'd reconnected with him, he'd already put on weight, and his stamina had improved. He was healing quickly, and he no longer looked like a man who'd almost died recently. He looked, in fact, like a dangerous predator ready to eat her up…which was a really, really tantalizing thought. She couldn't keep the anticipation from fluttering through her as she watched him lounge against the doorframe, looking so deliciously masculine that she was pretty sure he would be illegal in certain states.

Yes, indeed, there was nothing weak about him anymore. He'd been putting on serious muscle, which she knew from the last few nights in his bed, learning exactly how amazing it was to be truly desired by a man. The fact that Steen was tireless in his dedication to finding out exactly what she liked and what she didn't had made for some very late nights and some incredible discoveries.

It had been the best days of her life...and she was all too aware the clock was ticking. There were only six days left until she had to leave. Six days until he would gently, but firmly, kick her out the door and back to her life.

Her throat constricted, but she lifted her chin. No. She wasn't going to think about that.

If he could keep his distance, then so could she. She leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers through her hair. "Maybe I don't want to go on a date with you. Did you think of asking, instead of demanding?"

"I considered it, but I didn't want to give you the opportunity to say no." He produced a bouquet of roses from behind his back and held them out. "For you."

She stared at the flowers, too surprised to react. "No one has ever brought me flowers before." Damn him. The moment she resolved to pull back from him, he had to give her
flowers.
With a resigned sigh, she shook her head, knowing full well that if six more days were all she could have with him, then she'd take those six days and imprint every last second in her memory.

"Then you, my dear, have led a deprived life in which you've been surrounded by idiots." He levered himself off the doorframe and strode across the small office toward her. She couldn't help the shiver of anticipation as he walked around the desk toward her. He plucked the pen out of her hand, clasped her wrist, and pulled her to her feet with just enough force to send her tumbling against his chest.

Then he wrapped his arm around her waist, locking her against him, and kissed her. She should have been accustomed to being kissed by him, but even after several days of constant attention, she still felt her heart leap every time his mouth descended upon hers. Sometimes his kiss was gentle. Sometimes it was demanding and rough. Sometimes it was flirty and mischievous. And other times, like this, it was a sensual kiss that promised an eternity.

This was her favorite kiss.

With a sigh of pure contentment, she draped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, kissing him back, thoroughly enjoying the prickle of his whiskers against her face, and the feel of his lips against hers. He was pure, dangerous seduction, and she'd never felt so alive.

Just as the kiss began to change into something that was going to lead to naked-office-time, he pulled back, but he didn't release her. "That's for later. Right now, I want to take you out."

She lightly grasped the front of his shirt and tugged him gently. "You don't need to court me, Steen. I know you don't have any money, and I'm a sure thing tonight anyway."

Darkness flickered in his eyes, but it wasn't seduction. It was anger, and she realized she shouldn't have mentioned the money. "I can afford to take you to dinner," he said, his voice on edge. "I'm not that pathetic."

"I didn't mean—"

He shoved the flowers in her hand. "I'll be outside if you want to come. If you don't, that's fine." He turned and walked out without another word, leaving her holding the most beautiful flowers she'd ever received…well, the only flowers she'd ever received from a man, standing there in her dirty jeans, muddy hiking boots, and "didn't bother to shower this morning" hair.

She should have known better than to bring up the finances. No man wanted to feel like he couldn't support a woman. Dammit. Frustrated, she grabbed her purse and followed him out of the building.

He was leaning against the front fender of one of the ranch's pickup trucks, his arms folded over his chest. His hat was tipped low over his forehead, but she felt his gaze the moment she stepped outside.

After locking the door, she walked over to him and stopped just in front of him.

He didn't move.

She sighed and flicked his hat back so she could see his face. "Stop it."

He narrowed his eyes. "Stop what?"

"Being a shit."

His eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. "Did you just swear at me? You never curse."

"I reserve them for appropriate moments, like this one." She set her hands on her hips. "Listen, Steen. I get that you have baggage. Between your mom ditching you, your loser dad, and your lack of bond with your brothers, I understand you have no comprehension of how much you have to offer. I realize the impact that a prison record could have on your future. I understand all that, but I'll be honest, at some point, you have to get over it. Move on." She held out her arms and gestured at herself. "Look at what's right in front of you, and appreciate it, because before you know it, it will be gone."

He stared at her for a long moment, and then sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being a shit." The corner of his mouth quirked. "You're right. I know you better than that, and I know that you didn't mean it as an insult when you questioned my ability to pay for dinner. Just because I expect to be judged by people in general doesn't make it fair that I reacted that way to you." He held out his hand. "May I have a second chance, fair maiden? I'd like to take you out on the town tonight, on my dime, of which I am sure I can scrape up a sufficient number to pay for dinner, and I promise I won't take offense at any prison jokes you might make. Deal?"

Her irritation fled, and she shook his hand. "Deal."

He grinned. "Then we have a date."

A date. Her first official date with Steen, more than a decade since she'd first seen him.

Hot damn.

Steen really didn't care about the menu. He'd barely glanced at the wine list before ordering one. And he hadn't even bothered to try the bread that the waiter had left on the table.

It was all about Erin tonight. That was it. Just Erin. She was the only thing he wanted to notice, the only thing he
could
notice. She simply outshone every other damn thing in existence.

Her eyes were sparkling, and she was sexy as hell in her jeans and tee shirt. She'd complained about going to dinner in her work clothes, but he hadn't let her go home to change. He preferred her this way: natural, casual, and happy. Plus, he'd been half-afraid she'd change her mind about going out if she got home. Another part of him had also been concerned that she might put on some fancy outfit for dinner, reminding them both that she was out of his league. As a rural vet in her jeans and tee shirt, she was accessible, vulnerable, and reachable. She was a real person, and he was able to simply be with
her
. He knew, however, that simple and casual weren't her real life, and if she got dressed up, it would be a constant reminder that she belonged somewhere else. Yeah, he knew she did, but tonight, he wanted it to be just about them. Besides, he liked her this way. He'd told her she looked beautiful exactly as she was and he'd meant every word of it.

The last four days of making love to her in his bunkhouse every night had been incredible. He couldn't believe how responsive she was to him, how completely she trusted him. It was surreal and amazing. He knew that this time with her would somehow sustain him for the rest of his life when the reality of his existence descended after her departure.

He knew she would have been perfectly fine with another night over the grill behind the bunkhouse, but he wanted more for her. He wanted her to know what it felt like to be taken out for a nice dinner. He wanted her to know that he was proud to be with her. It was important to him that she understand that, so he'd made the decision to venture out into town for the first time since his release from prison.

He'd chosen a classy restaurant in the adjoining town, hoping that he wouldn't run into anyone who would know him and where he'd been for four years. In the town where he'd once been a superstar, the big man on campus, he now wanted nothing more than to be anonymous, so he could treat Erin to the night she deserved. He wanted her to enjoy herself, not be burdened by the history of the man she was with.

Steen was aware the place wasn't as fancy as she was used to, but it was about as high class as he was going to find in the area. The wine glasses looked appropriately sparkly. He figured the white tablecloths were up to standard, and even he had to admit the candlelight was romantic. He didn't consider himself a romantic. As a general rule, he saw candles as potential fire hazards and a waste of a good flame, but for the first time in his life, they made him think of the softness of her skin, and the way her hair felt beneath his fingers.

Erin leaned back in her chair, surveying the small restaurant. "It's amazing. Thank you."

He shrugged as the waiter approached with their wine. "It's what you deserve. I want you to know that I'm proud to be with you."

She grinned at him, and leaned forward, her fingers brushing against his in a public display of affection that made something inside him shift. She wasn't afraid to acknowledge she was with him. He'd half-thought she wouldn't want to be seen in public with an ex-con, but not only had she agreed to come to dinner, but she was
touching
him. The thought shook him to his core as he looked down at her fingers tapping the back of his hand.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm having a great time."

He considered moving his hand away for her own protection, but he couldn't make himself do it. Instead, he flipped his hand over and wrapped his fingers around hers. "You're welcome." He grinned at her, and she smiled back, an intimate exchange that was only about them, and their connection. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Erin—"

"Steen Stockton? Is that you?"

Steen's entire body tensed as his name was called from across the room, and he quickly pulled his hand away from Erin's. He saw the look of surprise on her face, but he didn't have time to apologize as he turned toward the door. When he saw the man striding toward him, his gut dropped down to his boots. Shit. He was sunk.

Swearing under his breath, he rose to his feet and shook hands with Walt Parker, one of the Rogue Valley High School alums who had funded much of the football team's expenses when Steen had been playing for them. He knew Walt well, or he had, back before his life had imploded.

Walt thudded his hand on Steen's shoulder, then pulled back to inspect him. The older man's face was leathery from years in the sun, but he was as fit and lean as ever, easily recognizable as the man who'd held the passing record at the school for a decade until Steen had broken it. "Good to see you, Steen. It's been too long."

Steen glanced at Erin, who was watching with interest. "Um, yeah, I've been busy." He wasn't sure whether Walt knew what had happened with Rachel. God help him, he didn't want Erin to endure the stigma he'd carry for the rest of his life.

"You come by to see the display, in honor of the school's fiftieth anniversary?" Walt asked.

Steen frowned. "What display?"

"You didn't recognize the table by the front door when you came in? Or the chair you're sitting in?" Walt's eyebrows shot up. "Or the buffet where the wine display is set up?"

Steen's gaze shot to the chair that his hand was still on. He recognized the design immediately. He glanced at the wine display, and remembered all too well the hours he'd spent in that crappy basement carving the table by hand. It looked good, weathered properly. Behind him, was the dining room table he'd made to seat all his brothers after their dad had busted up their table in one of his rages. All his work, furniture he'd labored over as a teenager, back when spending hours building furniture had been his only respite from the life that stalked him. "Where did you get those?"

"Your stuff is all over the area. I buy 'em up when I see 'em." He grinned. "I have to support my fellow ball players, right, my man?" He pointed to a painting by the front door. "That's from Don Simms, a wide receiver who was a few years ahead of you." He winked. "Between you and me, he wasn't all that talented, but he's one of us, so his stuff hangs."

Steen frowned, still trying to process what he'd inadvertently stumbled into, an apparent shrine to his high school football team. "You own this place? What about the winery you were running?"