Not My 1st Rodeo (2 page)

Read Not My 1st Rodeo Online

Authors: Donna Alward

Tags: #cowboys;widow;divorce;starting over;computer;online dating

BOOK: Not My 1st Rodeo
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“It's probably the hardest time of the year,” he admitted, “but I love it.” He turned his coffee cup around in his hands. “Actually, I love just about every day on the ranch. I can't imagine doing anything else.”

He looked up at her, and she could swear there was a defiant set to his jaw, as if daring her to challenge him. She wondered why. Wondered why he'd suddenly sounded a little defensive. If he expected her to disagree, he was going to be disappointed. To her mind, his life was pretty ideal. She was so done with the city, the cramped spaces and the traffic. Maybe it was true. You could take the girl out of the country, but it was a heck of a lot harder to take the country out of the girl.

“So,” she said, a little nervous again, “you're divorced?”

“I am.” He smiled grimly. “My ex-wife thought ranching sounded a lot more romantic than the reality.”

Melly couldn't help it, she snorted. Brett's expression darkened.

She covered her mouth with a hand and tried to straighten her face. “I'm sorry,” she offered, wanting to smooth the fretting wrinkle off his brow. “I didn't mean to do that. I shouldn't laugh.”

“Yeah, well, I should have seen it coming. She never did really fit. I was just…”

“Dazzled?” Melly suggested, lifting an eyebrow.

His face relaxed a little and his eyes warmed, as if he appreciated the little bit of wit. “Yeah. Dazzled is one way of putting it. Thinking with the wrong head, if you'll pardon the crude expression.”

She laughed again. And the wrinkle smoothed just a little bit more.

“Sounds like we both ended up with people a little flashier than our tastes,” she observed. “Or maybe just a little too refined.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “They might have done better with each other than the likes of us.” He chuckled a little, and she got a tingly kind of feeling from him pairing them together, even in such a casual way.

Melly looked down at her cup. Her coffee was gone. She suspected Brett's was as well. As dates went, it had been different. And since the word dazzled had been brought up more than once, Melly had to admit she wasn't quite seeing stars and rainbows. But then there was the hint of a smile he'd shown her earlier, and his manners, and that interesting moment where something had connected between them.

Not love at first sight. But intriguing? Yes. His foot bumped hers under the table and a zing went up her calf. Oh, definitely intriguing.

“Melissa?”

She met his gaze. His clear blue eyes were settled on her, his brows pulled together slightly as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle.

“If you don't mind me asking, why did you decide to use a dating site? You're a beautiful woman, and I can't imagine you being desperate or having a hard time finding a guy. I don't get it.”

She pushed her cup to the side and folded her hands on the table, determined not to fidget or let her nervousness show. “Well, to be honest, I know what I'm looking for in a partner. I'm not a city girl, and I'm not new to marriage. I've always enjoyed the outdoors, loved growing up on our ranch. So I figured I'd narrow the search by parameters. The website helped me do that. Kind of a made-to-order thing.” She let a grin crawl up her cheek. “You know, like Meg Ryan in “When Harry Met Sally”. She orders things just the way she wants them. No compromising.”

“And then has that I'll-have-what-she's-having moment.”

Ah, yes. The orgasm scene. Melly met Brett's gaze. Was he flirting? It was hard to tell. He seemed more of a still waters type than an open book. Still, it was a slightly suggestive comment to make at this point in the date, and she took it as a good sign. “You have to give the girl credit,” Melly responded with a wink, flirting back. “She knew what satisfaction looked like.”

The air hummed between them, and Melly lifted her chin a little, almost daring him to respond.

“Except she was faking.” He raised an eyebrow and his eyes twinkled.

Game on. He was flirting with her. Melly felt a little more confidence slide through her and she leaned her elbows on the table, moving slightly more towards him, inviting him closer.

“Oh, she was just demonstrating a point. I've never seen the point in faking anything, have you?”

Two spots of color appeared on his cheeks. “Not really. I like a woman who knows how to speak her mind.”

Was it getting warmer in here? It wasn't so much what they said, but the subtle undertones that seemed to raise her temperature. “Hey, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of mystery and surprise. As long as it's the right kind…”

The moment held, but then Brett suddenly leaned back a little, disengaging from the repartee. “Look, Melissa.”

“Melly.” She didn't like the sound of the way he said her name this time.

“Melly,” he corrected. “Look, we're flirting a little here, and as nice as that is, I think I need to be honest with you, because I don't like to play games. You seem like a really nice woman. But you see…you're looking for something that I'm not. We don't want the same things, and I don't think it would be fair of me to let you think otherwise.”

She appreciated his honesty at least. “Fair enough,” she replied, surprised at how disappointed she felt. Just when they seemed to be getting somewhere, he backed off. “But I hope you realize that I'm not looking at each date as a first step to the altar. You seem like a good guy. Perhaps a little jaded, but hey, failed marriages have that effect. I went with the dating site because it seemed a little less, I don't know, meat-marketish than heading to the local honky-tonk for a few beers and some dance-floor flirting. That's not my style. I'm more of a…” But she couldn't come up with the right words. She was an English teacher, and she was coming up blank.

Brett's smile blossomed. “More of an online shopper?”

She smiled back. “Wow, that doesn't sound much better, does it?”

They shared a chuckle and then he spoke again. “So you're actually thinking you might find love this way.”

“Well, yeah.” It was her turn to frown. “I want to get married again. Have a family. I figure meeting someone with common interests might be a good start, you know?” She looked up at him and decided that if he liked honesty, she might as well give him some. “That doesn't mean I'm in a huge rush or that I'm taking inventory and trying to check boxes. I'm open to dating for the fun of it.” She blinked slowly. “Do you get what I'm saying?”

“I think I do.” His foot bumped hers under the table again.

“I'm glad neither of us chickened out today. Even if I do have your sister to thank for it.”

He grinned. “Busybody Manda? Yeah, I'm starting to forgive her for her interference. I'm sorry if I'm a bit rusty. I haven't done this in a while, and I was nervous as hell.” Brett leaned forward on his arms, just a little, like he was preparing to share a secret. “I have to admit I was really relieved when I saw you.”

“You were?”

“You seemed normal. And pretty. And like someone I might have introduced myself to in a different situation. Then when your bag kept slipping—”

“I know. I'm so awkward.” Such an idiot.

“No, that's not it. I just…I used to feel out of place with my ex. But when that happened, I don't know. It made me more comfortable. I wasn't so intimidated.”

The confession softened her heart just a bit. “Aw. And it makes me laugh to think of someone finding me intimidating. Most of the time, I feel like a square peg in a round hole.”

He shook his head. “No way.” To her surprise, his face went a bit red. “You're very pretty, Melly.”

He'd called her pretty twice now, and it gave her a lot more confidence. “You're not so bad yourself.”

And there it was again. That jolt of excitement, of anticipation. Startling by its very presence, and delicious too.

Damn.

She held out her hand again, this time without the handbag flopping on her wrist. “Can we start over? Hi, Brett. I'm Melly. I'm twenty-nine, divorced, and I like skies full of stars, long walks, a cold beer on a hot day and wild roses.”

He held her gaze as he fit his hand into hers. “Brett Harrison. I'm thirty-two, divorced, like the smell of fresh-cut hay, my mama's blueberry pie, watching the sunrise and—” he grinned, “—a cold beer on a hot day.”

His hand was warm, firm, lingering.

Then he squeezed her fingers in his.

“Do you want to get out of here? Go for one of those walks maybe?”

So the date wasn't over. Melly got the feeling that it was actually just beginning.

“I'd like that,” she replied. “I think I'd like that a lot.”

Chapter Three

They left the coffee shop and stepped into the bright May sunlight. Melly wasn't familiar with Gibson, though the town was small and easily navigated. When Brett explained that there was a walking trail a block and a half south of Main that went along the river, Melly thought it sounded lovely. And public.

The trail wasn't paved, but it was leveled and covered with a thin layer of finely crushed rock. They turned right, walking so the river was on their left, darts of light sparkling off the surface in the early evening sun. It truly was pretty, and Melly let out a breath, relaxing a bit more. They weren't the only ones out on the trail, and she was delighted to see the odd bench or picnic table set up for people to rest or enjoy the view. She imagined people coming here to have their lunch, or packing a picnic and letting their kids run free on the grass. “This is really gorgeous,” she commented as they strolled.

“I'm kind of surprised you said yes,” Brett replied, his boots crunching against the gravel. “My sister, Manda—the one who set us up—thought you'd probably bring a friend as backup. You know, meeting a stranger and all.”

Melly looked up at him. “I considered asking my friend, Leanne, to come along as backup. Honestly, I was glad you suggested coffee.” She laughed a little. “Or rather, your sister did. Coffee is a low-maintenance date. Easy escape route.” She smiled. “Just in case you were a troll or creepy or something.”

“And yet here you are out walking with me. Harder to escape.”

“You're neither a troll nor creepy, so I don't feel threatened. Should I?”

He stopped, looked down at her. “No.”

That little zing of attraction zipped between them again. Could Brett be threatening?
Maybe to my willpower
, she thought, unable to look away from his gaze. Earlier, he'd asked why she'd used a dating site. She wanted to ask him the same thing, because from where she was standing there wasn't a thing wrong with him. And, yes, she knew he hadn't actually been the one to set up his profile, but how did a guy like this stay single?

She struggled to keep things light. Breezy. “I suppose if you were some stalkery predator type, you'd hardly answer yes to that question.”

He laughed a little, then feigned a serious expression and rubbed his chin. “That's true. You're taking a lot on faith here.”

She turned away and sighed, the spell broken by the very suggestion of having faith in anything—or anyone. “I usually do. It's what got me in this position in the first place.”

“Pollyanna syndrome?”

She was starting to see he had a subtle sense of humor that she enjoyed. “Maybe a bit. I don't get that vibe from you though.”

“I don't take a lot on faith,” he admitted. “I like good solid evidence that I can see and touch.”

Touch. Melly bit down on her lip as they resumed walking. She should not be thinking about him touching her, not this soon. They'd just met. But it wasn't difficult to let her imagination go there. He was a good-looking guy, rugged and capable and yet polite and funny. Then there was the shape of his lips that somehow begged to be kissed, the strong angle of his stubbled jaw that made her want to run her fingers along the side of his face. And he was just remote enough to make him a challenge. Not that she'd make the first move. Still, she'd have something to think about tonight when she was home alone.

“I understand that,” she replied. “I find my optimistic outlook has a few more dark clouds than it used to.”

“Divorce can do that,” he agreed. “You know, it's not even so much the hurt anymore. I mean, I did love her. At least I thought I did, which at the time is the same thing. It's the damage left behind. It's the way you end up doubting yourself that really hangs on.”

God, he was so right. She alternated between wondering how she could have been so blind to wondering how much of it was her fault. One minute she was strong and determined and had faith that there was love out there for her again, and the next she was terrified that she'd never be able to trust anyone, or take them at face value.

“Tell me about it,” she answered. “I guess that's why I thought the site would be a good idea. I figured that if I dated anyone from there, they'd understand being gun-shy about the whole romance thing.”

“But you said you wanted to get married again. That you believed in it.” They skirted around a group of teens who crowded the walkway on their way towards town.

“Sure, in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes the practicality of it is quite different.” She shrugged. “Maybe a few dates will at least, I don't know, get me out there again. Give me some confidence.”

“Great. So I'm your guinea pig?”

His tone was teasing and she laughed. It felt really good. “How about…training wheels? I try to stay away from animal testing.”

He laughed in return. “Training wheels. I don't know how to feel about that.”

“Oh, don't worry. Hell, I haven't even…” She broke off, halting mid-sentence as her face flamed. Wow, had she gotten so comfortable that she'd been about to admit to her sexual dry spell too? That she hadn't had sex in nearly two years? Twenty-seven. She'd been twenty-seven when the truth had hit. They'd been married for eighteen months. God, she'd been divorced longer than she'd been married. Twenty-nine was feeling much, much older than the number suggested.

She could feel Brett's eyes on her and she struggled to breathe. “Well, that's embarrassing,” she murmured, and she heard his soft laugh.

“If it makes you feel better, I haven't either. Not since Sherry left.”

Sherry. That was her name. Then she absorbed what he was saying. They'd both been celibate since their splits. If anything did happen between them, they would be each other's firsts. She was kind of glad about that. Like she was at less of a disadvantage.

“Oh,” she replied dumbly. The problem was, talking about the absence of sex in their lives had her picturing all sorts of things that she probably shouldn't be picturing on a first date.

They were getting farther away from the main part of town now, the path meandering along the river bank to where a bridge crossed over, marking the end of the business district. The path passed beneath the bridge, and it was cool and shaded in the shadows. And private, she realized. They hadn't met anyone on the trail since the teenagers, and the kids were long gone.

Her heart pounded a little harder simply from the knowledge that they were alone. Had he brought her here on purpose? She felt about sixteen years old, sneaking away with a boyfriend to find some secluded corner to make out. And God help her, she loved it. It was exciting. It made her feel vibrant and alive again. And maybe just a little bit adventurous since Brett was virtually a stranger.

“Melissa.”

She didn't bother correcting him. Her name sounded different on his lips this time, like a caress, and his voice was dark and soft as it echoed off the concrete.

“Yes?” She turned to face him, and her heart leapt even more at the serious expression on his face.

He reached out and took her handbag from her shoulder and placed it on the ground by her feet. “Maybe we should just get this out of the way.”

“M…my bag?”

He shook his head, stepped closer so that their bodies were nearly brushing and she could hardly breathe.

“Kissing,” he said, the timbre of his voice deeply intimate.

She didn't want to stammer. Wanted to be flirty and confident and seductive, but that had never been her style. “Oh. Well, I suppose it would be a good litmus test, you know, to see if we're compatible and all and…”

She was babbling. And she stopped abruptly when he put a finger gently against her lips.

In the next moment, he was kissing her. Or almost kissing her. It was hard to tell, because she could barely feel his lips on hers. But they were there, fluttering, teasing, inviting rather than possessing. Their breath mingled and her eyes fluttered closed as she simply enjoyed the anticipation of what might come next. One thing for certain—Brett Harrison knew how to take his time and make a woman long for more. Because when he opened his lips and deepened the kiss, she forgot all about this being a first date and looped her arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

He was a good four or five inches taller than she was, and when his arm came around her, he pulled her up so that she was on her toes. His tongue swept in to taste hers. His tasted of rich coffee and man and dark desire. It exploded between them, and before she could sort out any kind of rational thought, he'd lifted her off her feet and cupped her buttocks as she instinctively wrapped her legs around him. A half a dozen steps and her back touched something cold and hard—the concrete of the buttress.

This was crazy. Insane. But there was no denying that the chemistry she'd sensed earlier was definitely there between them. His hips pressed against hers and she felt a carnal longing so intense it took her breath away. “Mmm,” she murmured into his mouth, and when he slid his wide hand over the pebbled tip of her breast, the sound was replaced by a gasp of pleasure.

Brett let her down slowly, put his forehead against hers and shifted slightly, putting a little space between them. He was breathing hard and she matched him breath for breath.

“Holy shit,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Holy shit.”

Melly's voice was shaky. “Well. There was nothing awkward about that.”

“Maybe we should have broken the ice that way. Saved ourselves a lot of time.” She felt his face shift slightly as he smiled.

“It would have caused quite a scene on Main Street,” she reminded him, her back still against the concrete, her body still humming from the stunning assault on her senses.

Brett stood back, and she knew she flushed again when he adjusted his jeans. “I didn't intend for all that to happen,” he said, apology in his voice. “I thought I'd kiss you. Without an audience. See if there was any chemistry.”

“Test the waters.”

“Yeah. I didn't expect to… Well, I don't think chemistry is a problem.” He let out a low, sexy chuckle.

Melly gathered up all the confidence she could muster. “I'm not sorry you did,” she said plainly. “Bit sorry you stopped though.”

His eyes held hers for a few moments, as if he was asking her to clarify what she'd meant. Would she have gone further? Would she have slept with him on a first date? Not here, not under a bridge like a horny teenager. But she wasn't sure she'd have stopped him from going further either. And if he asked her to follow him to a hotel right now, she'd be tempted. Mighty tempted. If the heat of that kiss was any indication, sex with Brett was guaranteed to be hot.

The problem with hot was that it was far too easy to get singed.

“I should probably walk you back to your car,” he suggested, and she couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. Maybe he didn't want it to go further. Or maybe he was simply being a gentleman. What a novel idea.

“Okay,” she answered dully.

“Mel…” He reached for her hand. “It's the first date. I don't want to rush things, that's all.”

She felt a sliver of relief, knowing that he simply didn't want to move too fast. Back in the spring sunlight, they reverted to polite chat about Gibson, her job, the ranch. Nothing flirty, nothing suggestive. But Melly's lips still hummed from his kiss, and the little knot of tension low in her belly refused to go away.

Before long, she was pointing at which car was hers and their steps were slowing on the sidewalk.

“Well, here we are,” she said lamely. She pasted on a smile and looked up at him, feeling increasingly awkward. Boy, it was hard getting back into the dating game again. Other than the few minutes when her hormones had taken over, she'd second-guessed just about everything today.

“Here we are,” he echoed, his voice deliciously deep. Melly wanted to see him again. She knew that for sure. But she didn't want to be the one to ask. Despite putting herself on the website, she still liked the guy to make the first move.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, then bit her lip. She'd bought the coffee. Man, he had her rattled. “I mean…”

“I know what you mean,” he answered. Her bag was starting to slip again, and he reached out, adjusted the strap so it was on her shoulder, his fingers brushing her arm. Goosebumps rose up on her skin at the contact, and nerves tangled in her belly as he stepped closer.

“I had a nice time,” he said softly, and then he dipped his head just a little and kissed her lightly. Just a soft, brief graze on the lips, but it was enough to nearly put her into meltdown.

“Me too,” she said on a breath, blinking and looking up at him with dazed eyes.

“If you're interested, I'd like to see you again.” Brett reached around her and opened her car door.

“I'm interested,” Melly said quickly and then figured she looked overeager. She wondered if the day would come where she wouldn't feel like an idiot.

“Should I just message you through the site?” His blue eyes rested on her, and her nerves were so ramped up now that it felt like her whole body was on alert.

“Do you have a phone?”

He reached into his back pocket and took out his cell. She took it and quickly entered her number. “Here. Now you can text me. Or call. Or…whatever.”

“I'll do that. Maybe we can go to dinner or something.”

“That sounds good.” She smiled. Wondered why on earth she thought grabbing him by the shirt collar and dragging him into her backseat sounded more preferable to a dinner date.

“I'll be in touch then.” He smiled. “Thanks for the coffee, Melly.”

“Anytime,” she replied and got into her car while he was still holding the door. He shut it behind her and then moved to the sidewalk, lifting a hand in farewell as she pulled away from the curb.

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