One Wild Cowboy (2 page)

He closed the gate behind him and let his glance drift lazily over Emily before deliberately meeting her eyes. “Luckily for both of us, darlin'…that schooling is
not
going to come from me.”

 

“W
ELL, IF YOU ASK ME
,” Simone Saunders said two hours later, “I think you should just relax about the whole thing.”

“Easier said than done,” Emily murmured, arranging trays of fruit cobbler and pecan-pie bars on the banquet tables set up on the town square.

“You never know,” the Daybreak Café's assistant chef teased. “The guy your parents want you to meet could be a real hottie.”

Emily regarded the petite dynamo with the copper colored hair. Simone was not only her trusted employee but also a close friend. “Don't you start! Besides, aren't you the one who has been extolling the virtues of freedom since your divorce?”

Simone cast a worried look at her increasingly rebellious fifteen-year-old son, Andrew, who was hanging out with a group of friends on the other side of the green. “My situation is different. My husband was a crook.”

Who was now in jail, Emily thought.

“Any guy your parents want you to meet would at least be honorable.”

True.
Emily shrugged. “I like nice guys, but there has to be chemistry.” It couldn't just be conjured up on demand because her parents wanted it to be.

With Dylan Reeves on the other hand… Emily still couldn't believe the audacious cowboy had turned her down, and so rudely! Put his hands on her shoulders and invaded her space.

Simone glanced at the fast-growing crowd, then reached for another tray of brownies off the pastry cart. “How are you going to explain not having a date with the horse whisperer after you told your brothers you did?”

Good question. Emily added apricot scones to the table. “I could always say something came up, that Dylan wanted to attend but just couldn't.”

“Uh…no…you can't.”

Emily brought the buckets of fresh churned ice cream out of the portable cooler, and set them in tubs of ice on the buffet table. “Why not?”

“Because Dylan's here. Talking to Holden and Hank right now.”

Heat flooding her cheeks, Emily turned around. Sure enough, Dylan Reeves
was
here, looking mighty fine in a starched white shirt, a clean pair of jeans and a black Resistol hat. It was all she could do not to wring her hands in dismay. “Holden and Hank are probably grilling him on why he didn't accompany me. If Dylan tells them I asked him for a date and he turned me down, I'll just die of embarrassment.”

“Maybe he won't.”

And maybe, Emily thought, already tossing her chef's apron aside, there was only one way she could stop this. She hoped it wasn't too late. “Are you okay here?”

Simone nodded, her expression as resolute as Emily's
mood. “I'll handle this. You go do damage control. And from the looks of it,” Simone said softly, as the men's faces grew serious, “you better hurry.”

 

“S
O WHAT'S GOING ON
with you and my sister?” Holden McCabe asked.

Didn't Emily's brothers ever lighten up? Dylan wondered, resenting the polite chitchat that was fast turning into a McCabe family inquisition.

Dylan folded his arms in front of him. “I make it a policy never to discuss my personal affairs.” Not that there was anything to report.

Hank McCabe paused. He exchanged confused looks with his brother, then turned back to Dylan. “So the two of you are dating?” he asked finally.

Dylan was still contemplating how best to respond when Emily rushed up, looking gorgeous, flushed and a bit disheveled. Not that he was noticing the way the sunshine-yellow sundress hugged her slender waist and feminine curves. Or how sexy her legs looked when not encased in the usual jeans.

“Holden…Hank, for heaven's sake!” she scolded.

Predictably, her ridiculously overprotective brothers refused to back down.

“What's the problem?” Hank asked.

Holden added innocently, “We're just talking to your ‘date' here.”

Emily swirled around in a drift of jonquil perfume he found amazingly enticing. She shot Dylan a beseeching glance that only he could see. Her soft-as-silk hand curved possessively around his biceps, compelling him to remain silent.

Curious as to how she was going to get herself out of this mess, he merely smiled.

The panicked look in her blue eyes fading, Emily released
her grip on him and turned back to her brothers. “
Dating
is for teenagers, guys.”

More skeptical glances. “What does that mean?” Holden demanded.

“It means she doesn't like to put a label on things any more than I do,” Dylan intervened.

“And neither of us like answering nosy questions,” Emily added.

Holden shrugged, unrepentant. “You're the one who brought it up.” He turned to Dylan. “Emily told us earlier that the two of you had a date tonight.”

Jeb sauntered up, a typical know-it-all grin on his face. “I've got to say, we didn't believe her then and given the fact the two of you arrived separately now…” He regarded his little sister suspiciously. “Now you wouldn't happen to be pulling one over on the whole family just because we're trying to set you up, would you?”

The only thing Dylan liked less than being put on the spot was seeing a strong, independent woman like Emily reduced to making up stories simply to get her interfering family out of her business.

“I can't believe you would even think that!” Emily sputtered.

Something about her vulnerability got to Dylan.

He'd never been prone to rescuing damsels in distress—because that could only lead to trouble. But this was different.

So he did the only thing that he knew would shut everyone up.

He wrapped his arm around Emily's slender shoulders, pivoted her slightly and brought her all the way against him.

Shock rendered Emily completely still. She couldn't believe Dylan was about to kiss her, but she could not deny the electric jolt of the first brush of his lips. Suddenly breathless, she found herself closing her eyes and parting her lips. Darn it all, this reckless cowboy was one fine kisser. And she was susceptible as could be to the seductive heat of his mouth, combined with the masculine certainty of his tall, strong body pressed against hers. Despite her efforts to remain immune to this ridiculously false display of affection, she impulsively wound her arms around his neck. And still he kept on kissing her, until she shivered with sheer pleasure and the rest of the world literally fell away…

Dylan hadn't meant to get so caught up in the moment. And maybe he wouldn't have, had Emily's lips not been so incredibly sweet, her body so warm and womanly…. This was
supposed
to be his chance to put the audacious heiress in her place and make sure she never made false claims about the two of them again.

And yet, the kiss that had started out merely as a way to knock her off balance and show her who was boss swiftly turned into much, much more. It was an invitation to delve further into the chemistry between them. A lightning bolt of desire that instinct told him neither of them would soon forget.

He might not be the right kind of guy for her, or she the right kind of woman for him, but the passion between them was potent. Too potent, Dylan decided, for the kiss to continue.

It took everything he had to let the passionate embrace come to a halt. And a second after that he was reminded that they had an audience.

All three of her big brothers looked at him as if they wanted to clock him.

Dylan could hardly blame them.

Had Emily been
his
wildly impetuous baby sister…

Blushing, Emily stepped back slightly, grabbed Dylan's sleeve and held on tight. “You know,” she said, seemingly making up words on the fly with the same impetuousness that had him kissing her, “that wasn't the smartest move either of us has ever made, Dylan. But,” she continued before any of the four males around her could interrupt, “that's what happens when you're in love.” She paused to beam at him. “Right, Dylan?”

Once again, he had a chance to put her in place. All he had to do was disavow having any feelings at all for her. Tell the truth about their “date.”

Certainly, it would have been the wise thing to do—if he wanted to end this craziness.

For some reason, he didn't.

Dylan rocked back on his heels, braced his hands on his waist and shrugged in the direction of her outraged brothers. “I'm not sure there are words that would ever adequately explain this situation,” he said.

“You've got that right,” Emily concurred. “Besides, we should get a move on. We have to go back to the café and pick up the rest of the desserts for the buffet.” She dropped her grip on his sleeve, clasped his hand in hers and tugged Dylan away from her still-scowling, perplexed brothers. “See you later, guys!” She tossed the dismissive words over her shoulder.

Seconds later, Dylan felt Emily begin to disengage her hand from his.

Loath to let her go—because that would have meant he was letting her call
all
the shots, which was not a good precedent to set—Dylan held tight.

She turned, flashed a smile that did not reach her pretty eyes and then whirled around and kept going.

Half a block of historic downtown buildings later, she had unlocked the front door to the Daybreak Café, stormed inside and shut the door behind them. Still fuming, she promptly wrested her hands from his. “All right, cowboy!” she snapped, pausing only to give him a long, withering glare. “You have one heck of a lot of explaining to do!”

 

E
MILY EXPECTED
an apology. It was, after all, the only decent thing to do, given the outlandishly passionate way Dylan had just kissed her. In front of an audience of her family and countless others, no less!

“Hey.” Dylan mocked her impudently. “I'm not the one still claiming to have a date with a person who's already rejected me!”

Indignation warmed Emily's cheeks. “Claim what you like, cowboy, if it soothes your ruffled feelings, but there was nothing ‘rejecting' about that kiss you just gave me.”

“I never said I didn't
desire
you,” Dylan volleyed back in a low, rich voice that practically oozed testosterone.

He was acting as if their madcap embrace was a
good
thing. “How dare you, anyway!”

He stepped forward and further invaded her space. “How dare you?”

With effort, Emily ignored the sexual tremors starting deep inside her. Determined to get command of a situation that was fast escalating out of control, she extended her index finger and tapped him on the center of his rock-solid chest. “Let's get
something straight, Dylan.” She waited until she was certain she had his full attention. “My request for help did not include anything sexual.”

He winked at her facetiously. “Too bad, 'cause if it had, I might have said yes.”

Emily curtailed the urge to deck him for that remark. She didn't know what he was up to now, but she did not like it one bit. “Furthermore, you are incredibly ill-mannered.”

“Never claimed to be otherwise,” Dylan said with a careless shrug.

Emily arched her eyebrows and ignored his pronouncement. “And you owe me an apology for that kiss.”

“You owe
me
an apology for that kiss!” he countered just as emphatically, even as her knees grew weaker still.

“Really.” She lifted her chin, drew a deep breath.
“Really?”

Dylan looked at her as if he already knew what it felt like to make love to her. “You bet your hot temper you do!”

“Listen, cowboy, I did not start that!”

He moved closer, once again towering over her. “You sure continued it enthusiastically though, didn't you?”

Darned if he hadn't made her flush all over again.

Emily's spine stiffened. “Only because I didn't want to make my brothers suspicious,” she retorted, hanging on to her composure by a thread.

“Yeah, well,” he pointed out glibly, “you sure failed on that count.”

Emily blinked. “Are you kidding? They thought our embrace was so genuinely hot they wanted to punch you out.”

And whether Dylan wanted to admit it or not, their clinch
had
been genuinely hot. As well as definitely misguided, Emily thought, pushing aside the potent fantasy this discussion was evoking.

The last thing she needed to be thinking about was kissing him again, she reminded herself firmly.

And she certainly didn't need to be imagining Dylan's beautifully muscled body stretched out alongside her own.

Or fixate on the fact that everywhere she was soft, he'd be hard. Everywhere he was male, she'd be female….

He regarded her with a devil-may-care glint in his eyes. “Your siblings wanted to throttle me because they suspected it wasn't a real date and therefore felt I had no place making out with you—on the town square no less.”

“They had a point about that, Dylan. You did not have a right to haul me into your arms and plant one on me.”

Dylan exhaled. “You reap what you sow, sweetheart.”

The warning in his tone sent a chill down her spine. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Dylan narrowed his eyes. “I'm not interested in being one of your little projects.”

Despite her desire to stay cool, calm and collected, Emily's heart beat faster. “Excuse me?”

Dylan eyed her seriously. “I wasn't in town five minutes before I heard all about how the beautiful Emily McCabe likes to bring home ‘strays' and fix 'em up…and then gets them to fall in love with her before she dumps them.”

More like the guys dumped me,
Emily thought glumly.

But not about to correct Dylan on that, she let the misconception stand.

She gave him an arch look and started to turn away. “I don't deny I was trying to help you, too.”
My mistake!

He caught her by the elbow and reeled her back. “By ensnaring me in your web so you could make me over, too?”

“You could use a few more manners, not to mention a haircut and a decent shave,” she said tartly. “But that's hardly the point.”

He snorted in exasperation. “Then what is?”

“Your horse-training business here in Laramie is only a couple of years older than my business.” Searching for a theory he might accept as plausible, she continued making it up as she went. “I know you're constantly trying to improve the facilities and equipment on your ranch, and I thought free meals here might help your bottom line.”

He glared at her. “First of all, I'm paid very well for the problem horses I diagnose and train—and I have no shortage of work coming my way. So my bottom line is fine, thank you very much.”

And yet, Emily noted, she had somehow struck a nerve with her mention of money….

Her pulse inexplicably picking up, she angled her head at him. “If business is so good, why don't you hire some cowboys to help you?”

Dylan grimaced. “I like working alone. I don't want to be responsible for anyone else's livelihood. And most important of all, I don't ever want to invest so much in a piece of property that I can't pick up and move the whole operation if—and when—I feel like it.”

Emily had the feeling he was talking about much more than just his ranch now. She shook her head in mocking censure. “That's a crying shame, cowboy. You'll never put down roots that way. Never belong. Probably never marry and have a family, either!”

Although why that should bother her, she did not know. It wasn't any of her business!

Dylan's broad shoulders stiffened. “I don't want roots. Or marriage. Or any of the happily-ever-afters you're peddling, because that's never been for me, either. I want my freedom. Which is why I would never—and I repeat,
never
—hook up with a down-home family gal like you.”

Emily inhaled the sandalwood-and-spice fragrance of his
cologne. “I don't deny I love my family, but I am my own person.”

A victorious light gleamed in his golden brown eyes. “Then how come they all feel they need to find your boyfriends for you?”

Emily bit down on a most unladylike oath. She threw up her hands in frustration, hating the fact she had to practically beg this temperamental cowpoke to cooperate. But the fix-up currently being engineered by her parents—not to mention those of her three brothers' machinations—remained a very big problem. One she was determined to solve.

Hopefully, with his help.

Emily inhaled deeply and said in the softest, most feminine voice she possessed, “Look, Dylan, all I ask is that you pretend for just a
little
while longer that you and I are an item.” She added persuasively, “It shouldn't be that hard, after the way you just kissed me.”

He lifted an eyebrow, said nothing.

“My offer for free meals at the café still stands.” Telling herself the end justified the means,
this once,
Emily lifted a hand airily and recklessly gave herself permission to go crazy. “You can have as many breakfasts and lunches as you like…as long as you cooperate with me.” There, that ought to do it. A gal couldn't get more magnanimous than that.

He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and rocked forward on his toes. “That's very generous of you, Miss Emily.”

Emily flushed at the sudden moniker of respect. “Thank you.”

He lowered his handsome face until they were nose to nose. “But if I were to agree—and that in itself is a long shot—that is not the payment I want.”

Oh, dear heaven.

How was it he knew just what buttons to push with her?
“Then what compensation do you want?” she asked sweetly, fearing she already knew. “This.”

Bringing his lips even closer, he cupped a hand beneath her chin. Emily could not believe he was about to kiss her again. Or worse, that she was welcoming his attentions! What kind of fool did that make her? She knew this didn't mean anything to him. Not what it should have anyway, for someone kissing her with this much passion.

Behind them, a bell rang.

Abruptly aware they were no longer alone, Emily turned her head slightly without actually stepping out of the circle of Dylan's arms. To her dismay, her parents walked in the door.

 

D
YLAN STEPPED BACK
as Shane and Greta McCabe stared at him in mute amazement. He could hardly blame them. What had gotten into him? He was usually so controlled.

Whenever he was around Emily, he acted like a hormonedriven teenager—and she was behaving just as badly. Except right now, she looked as if she wished a hole in the floor would open up so she could sink right through it.

He felt the same.

This was not the way he wanted the respected horse rancher and his accomplished wife to see him. Especially given all he now had at stake, with a soon-to-be-announced deal Emily apparently knew nothing about. Otherwise, Dylan was sure she would have mentioned it.

Not about to apologize for kissing Emily—even if it would smooth over what was an incredibly awkward situation— Dylan nodded at the older couple. He said formally, “Mr. and Mrs. McCabe. Nice to see you.”

“Good to see you, Dylan,” Shane and Greta McCabe replied, in unison.

“Emily.” A cautioning lilt was in Greta McCabe's tone as she took in her daughter. “Your father and I just met the proprietor of the new restaurant.”

“I hope he's not the guy you're planning to fix me up with,” Emily said.

For some reason, Dylan noted, that notion seemed to amuse them.

“Ah—no,” Shane said finally.

Unconvinced, Emily narrowed her eyes at her parents. “You're sure?”