Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders) (44 page)

“He’s free Thursday afternoon. Around three o’clock?”

“That would work.”

“Excellent. Is this the best number to reach you?”

“Yes.”

“If anything changes I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

After Rory hung up she had to recheck the caller ID to make sure she hadn’t been dreaming. Yep. Montana area code.

A phone interview was huge. She hadn’t made it past the application status with any of the jobs she’d applied for in the last six months.

And now she had two possibilities.

She’d gotten a callback from the BLM in Cody, which she hadn’t expected. She had an in-person there next week—barring any road-closing snowstorms. So Dalton bringing up her qualifications for a job in Yellowstone would’ve been the perfect time to tell him about the interview. But then he’d made that crack about leaving Sundance if he didn’t get awarded a permit, and she was glad she’d kept her mouth shut.

Chances were slim she’d get the Yellowstone job anyway.

She’d looked at the job description for the assistant’s position in Buffalo and decided not to apply. Although the fulltime job paid well, it was close to what she faced every day at the WNRC—busywork that had nothing to do with her degrees.

As much as she appreciated that Dillon had put in a good word for her with the Wyoming State Parks in Sheridan, even if she got a callback from them she’d wonder how much of that was due to Dillon’s influence.

But this CESU job…she’d applied for that one on her own. So if she made it past the phone interview she might have a chance at scoring her dream job.

Rory couldn’t help but squeal with excitement. But it would be nice to have someone to share her excitement with.

“No offense, Dalton, but this is not what I’d call a romantic surprise.”

“What? A few games of ping pong will get your blood pumping.” He bounced back and forth at the end of the ping pong table like a professional tennis player awaiting a serve. “It sure does mine.”

Rory lobbed the ball at him. “You don’t need any additional stimulus in the blood pumping department, Mr. McKay.”

Dalton grinned. “Come on baby. Show me whatcha got.”

“I suck at this.”

“No, you don’t. You did great when we played it on the Wii.”

“Not the same. It’s like believing I can be a rock star because I shredded on Guitar Hero.”

He lifted a brow. “Shredded? Woman, I totally wiped the floor with you. High score, remember?”

Rory shook her paddle at him. “That’s what I mean. You are so competitive!”

“Winning competitions is the best way to prove my manliness. To show you that I can protect you and provide for you.” He grinned. “And rock your world with a bitchin’ power ballad that makes you wanna get nekkid with me.”

“Oh. My. God.”

He laughed. “So we playin’ this or what?” He crouched and spun his paddle. “I’ll even let you serve.”

“Since I’m pretty sure I’m gonna lose, I’ll only play if I get to pick our next activity.” When she saw the glimmer in his eyes, she amended, “An activity with our clothes on.”

“Shoot, sugarplum, that ain’t no fun. Winner should get to choose.”

“Fine. Winner’s choice. Let’s get this over with.”

Dalton pitched Rory the ball. “Serve it up.”

The first game didn’t last long; Dalton won by four points.

He said, “Best two out of three?”

The second game…Rory won by two points. She acted surprised. “Wow. We’re tied up. How’d that happen?”

That’s when Dalton got suspicious.

And his suspicions were justified when Rory creamed him in the third game by thirteen points.

Her victory dance was short-lived. She had six feet three inches of bested cowboy in her face.

“What the hell was that?”

Rory smirked. “Think you’re the only one who can bluff, McKay?”

The muscle in his jaw worked as he stared at her.

She hadn’t thought this new improved Dalton would be a sore loser. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t expect that kind of sneaky-assed behavior from you, Rory.” The hard line of his mouth softened when he grinned. “Which is why it’s so awesome!” He picked her up and spun her around. “You totally had me snowed. I might make a poker player out of you yet.”

She snorted.

“So tell me how you’re so damn good at ping pong.”

“The bar I worked at in Laramie had a ping pong table. And since I bartended there for four years…I got pretty good. Used to have guys demand to play me for free shots.”

“How many free shots did you give away?”

“One. But the guy was a tourist and had been a championship ping pong player in China or something. So I gave him a whole bunch of shots, got him drunk and challenged him to a rematch.” She buffed her nails on her shirt. “I beat him. Not the most stellar example of fairness, but hey, I won and that’s all that mattered to me.”

Dalton laughed. Then he kissed her. “I love that you constantly surprise me.”

“Speaking of surprises…how did you come up with playing ping pong as a romantic surprise for me?”

“Lucky guess?”

Rory poked him in the chest. “Try again.”

“An odd whim?”

Another two pokes to his chest as she shook her head. “Tell me.”

“Here’s the truth. I’d intended to take you out for a nice dinner at Field’s. Renting a private room, hiring one of them fiddle players that walks around.”

“You mean a strolling violinist?”

“Yeah. Whatever. Anyway, I thought it’d be romantic, sharing a candlelight four course meal, champagne, roses, chocolate…”

“But?”

His gaze hooked hers. “But since you inspected my land today, I worried all that hearts-and-flowers shit might look like a bribe. Not only to you but to others in the community and I’d never put your professionalism at risk.” He blushed but didn’t look away. “So I brought you to the community center for a game of table tennis, an activity which ain’t romantic and you’d never mistake as a bribe. Especially since you whupped my ass.”

The man was an idiot. A sweet idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. And she was so insanely in love with him it scared her.

“So since you won our battle, you choose what happens next.”

Rory ran her palms down his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms. On the way back up her fingers traced the cut muscles and well defined bulk. She loved seeing him in sleeveless black T-shirts, the tighter the better. He worked hard on this body, he oughta show it off. She curled her hands around the back of his neck and leaned in to rub her mouth across his pectoral. And she got that rush of want from his scent—laundry soap, sweat, deodorant and his underlying musk.

“Rory, you keep doin’ that and I won’t be able to walk out of here.”

“I can’t help it. Sometimes I just look at all this—” her hands slowly cruised down his chest, stopping on his abdomen above his pelvis, “—and I’m blown away that it’s all mine.”

Dalton’s fingers on her chin lifted her face to look into her eyes. “Are you admitting you own me every bit as much as I own you?”

Her this-is-just-sex side didn’t even bother to speak up anymore. Nor did it lodge a protest when she said, “Yes.”

“Need to get you home. Now,” he said in that low, dangerously sexy growl.

She swept her lips over his in a fleeting kiss. “Hold that thought. I won so I get to pick the next activity.” Took every ounce of restraint to step back instead of closer.

“I hope it’s wrestling.”

She laughed. “Nope. But it does begin with a W.”

“There ain’t a pool in there so it doesn’t have to do with water.”

“It’s weight lifting. You lift; I get to watch.”

“Why in the hell would you wanna watch me lift weights? Lots of grunting, straining, sweating.” His eyes narrowed. “Get that look off your face, jungle girl. It’s not even close to sex and it sure ain’t sexy.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, won’t I? It’ll be interesting to see you pump something besides me for a change.”

So she’d never actually watched a lover working out with weights before. Oh, sure, she’d seen guys lifting weights in the gym. Quite a few of them had amazingly hot bodies, but it hadn’t affected her beyond her appreciation for the strength and beauty of a buffed up masculine form.

But watching Dalton pumping iron? Whole. Different. Story. Seeing his biceps and triceps flexing and glistening with sweat. Taking in every inch of his bulky forearms. Seeing the strain across his shoulders beneath his T-shirt as he pulled on the weight and pulley thing. Watching the V ripple in his quads as he performed squats and that also caused the thick bulge in his calf to contract.

Wasn’t like Dalton paid attention to her attentiveness to him. He remained focused on each exercise and when it ended he’d move to the next one. He didn’t watch his weightlifting form in the mirror like she’d seen so many other gym rats do. No admiring smug glances as he stared at himself.

She knew he’d started working out in hotel fitness facilities as a way to stave off boredom before poker tournaments. It wasn’t like Dalton was overly muscular with biceps bigger than her waist or his own neck. He needed that strength in his logging job. He didn’t work out to impress anyone, although that cut, ripped and toned body was an impressive benefit. For her.

“Christ, Rory, stop doin’ that.”

Her gaze moved from his butt to his eyes. “Stop doing what?”

“Licking your lips.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t be licking my chops, cowboy, if you didn’t have the very finest chops I’ve ever seen.”

“And all the times we’ve been nekkid together, what? You weren’t lookin’ at me?” He set down the dumbbells and perched on the edge of the weight bench.

“I look at you plenty. Touch you plenty.” She sauntered forward.

“I still don’t get the point of this. You’ve been watchin’ me lifting for half an hour.”

Rory straddled his legs and lowered herself onto his lap.

Dalton’s hands circled her hips to steady her. “Whoa, sugarplum, what are you doin’?”

She licked a rivulet of sweat from the hollow of his throat up to the edge of his jaw. “Having a little taste of you.”

“So does that mean we’re done here?”

“No.” She sucked on his earlobe before she blew in his ear. “It’s late. We’re probably the only ones left in the whole place.”

“Which means it’s time for us to go home.”

“I can feel you getting hard,” she breathed against his damp skin. She inhaled a lungful of him and sighed. “You smell delicious. Your muscles are so pumped up right now. I bet you could lift a small truck, couldn’t you?”

“Uh…yeah. I guess.”

She slipped her hand between them and lightly stroked his nipple as she strung kisses down the column of his throat. “Just looking at you gets me hot. I suspected it’d be sexy watching you pumping iron, but I had no idea it’d make me so wet.” Rory sank her teeth into the warm, salty section of skin where shoulder curved into neck. “So very, very wet and ready.”

“Woman, unless you want me to pin you to this weight bench and fuck you, you’d better take it down a notch.”

Rory pulled his hair, yanking his head back when he attempted to nudge her away from his neck. “I was thinking more of you fucking me in the storage closet. But this weight bench will work.” She nibbled the edge of his jaw up to his ear. “Or even the ping pong table.”

He groaned when her lips hit the spot that made him shiver. “You are—”

“A master at great ideas. I know.” She flicked her tongue across the spot just to feel him shudder again. “So where’s it gonna be, power lifter?”

“Closet.” With his hands on her ass, he pushed upright and carried her to the far corner of the room. He set her on the floor and she turned to open the door. Once they were crammed into the tiny space, she didn’t bother to turn on the light.

The storage closet held the usual cleaning supplies and stacks of folded towels on the shelving.

“How’d you know about this place?” Dalton asked against the back of her neck.

“Found it when I was looking for something for my yoga class. God, do that again.”

“This?” He used his teeth on her nape.

“Yes… Wait.”

“No waiting. Jeans off. Panties off.”

So much for being in control.

No, you do have control.
“Your shirt comes off too.”

She only managed to get naked from the waist down before Dalton’s hard, damp muscle-bound body was crowding her.

“I’m fucking you against the wall, baby.”

His deep voice vibrated from her ear straight to her clit.

“But first, since you’ve been teasing me about how wet you are—” his big hand cupped her mound and two fingers slid down her pussy to her opening, “—I’d better make sure.” Then he plunged his fingers inside her. In and out. Twice. “Fuck yeah. You are dripping wet for me.”