Rode Hard, Put Up Wet (2 page)

“Wrong. But I don’t think you tracked me down just to chew my ass for who you suspect might’ve been rockin’ my horse trailer.” His hands fell away. “So why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me why you’re really here, eh?”

Gemma studied him. The regal bone structure in his face highlighted the intriguing crosshatch of facial lines, courtesy of the years he’d spent working outdoors. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled and added to his rugged good looks.

“I heard you quit rodeoin’ fulltime.”

“Yeah? Who’d you hear that from?”

“Colby McKay.” She paused. “Is that true?”

“Pretty much.”

“Why? I figured you’d be chasing the gold buckle and silver spurs until you were a grizzled old man.”

Cash shook his head. “Between seein’ Mike Morgan’s career endin’ injury and Colby bein’ damn lucky to be alive after getting stomped by a bull, I decided to quit while I still had a choice. In the last two years, most days I rode I felt like a grizzled old man anyway.”

“So what’ve you been doin’ to earn a living?”

Color darkened his cheekbones and he raised his chin a notch. “Whatever I can.”

“Like?”

“Like I spent the winter fixin’ houses on the rez. Then I helped a buddy down by Hot Springs during calvin’ season. Lately I’ve been wranglin’ rodeo stock for the contractors.

I ain’t got a place of my own to maintain so I’m flexible. I can go anywhere at the drop of a hat.”

Gemma overlooked his embarrassment. It was a point of pride for white-line cowboys to own a chunk of land, to have a place of their own to call home if the road to rodeo glory ever quit calling them. Now that she really thought about it, why hadn’t Cash ever talked about why he didn’t have a place of his own? Was that a conscious choice?

“Does that mean you prefer to keep moving around rather than have a steady income?”

“No.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

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“The reason I came here is to offer you a job. I had another foreman quit on me last week.”

“Tell me you ain’t doin’ everything by yourself.”

“Most of it. Carter McKay is helping me out this summer. But he’s just part-time.”

“Carter McKay? One of Colby’s brothers?” His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know him.”

“He’s the youngest. Been away at school for a number of years. He’s a hard worker, but his heart ain’t really in it. I need someone I can count on.”

“And you think that someone is me?”

“That’s what I’m asking. You know how to handle livestock. You know that ranching is hard work. And I could use an expert opinion on some of the young, untried broncs I’m hopin’ to get into the circuit. Not that those smug bastards calling themselves promoters are giving me a chance.”

Cash frowned.

“Plus, I’ve discovered I need testosterone around. Things run smoother even if a man just stands there lookin’ pretty with his mouth shut while I do all the negotiating.”

He stared at her without speaking for the longest time.

“What?”

“I ain’t pretty, and I ain’t interested in standin’ around with my mouth shut. That ain’t who I am.”

“I didn’t say that you were.”

Cash raised his eyebrows.

Two short horn blasts signaled the start of the wild horse race in the arena. “Anyway, I can’t afford to pay more than two hundred dollars per week. But you’d get room and board. Including any horses you might want to stable. I assume you don’t need a truck?”

“Nope.”

“We’re talking seven days a week. No days off at least until late October and haying season ends.”

“I know. Ain’t the first time something like this has been offered to me.”

“Recently?”

“Yeah.”

Damn. Was she already too late?

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Rode Hard, Put Up Wet

“’Course. I turned ’em down flat.”

“Why?”

“Wasn’t interested in their offers.”

“So does anything
I’ve
offered interest you?”

Cash kicked a clod of manure under the trailer. “Depends.”

“On?”

“On whether the only thing you’re offerin’ me is a job.”

Her pulse jumped. “What else would there be?”

“Gemma, you know what else I want. What I’ve wanted since the first time I clapped eyes on you. And if bein’ in your bed—whether or not anyone else knows I’m there—

ain’t part of the deal, then I’ll have to pass.”

No way to misinterpret that.

Lord. Was she prepared to let the past fade? She and Steve Jansen had been happily married for twenty-six years. She’d been widowed for the last three. In recent months she’d grown tired of being alone and in her heart she knew Steve wouldn’t want her to mourn him forever.

But why did Cash want
her
? When he could have any woman? Young, or old, or in between? Was it a simple case of lust? She didn’t kid herself she was an aging beauty queen. Neither was she a spring chicken.

What if the reality of sharing her body and her bed with Cash Big Crow didn’t hold up to her fantasies? Worse, what if
she
disappointed him?

There was only one way to find out.

Gemma locked her gaze to his. “Just as long as you know that bein’ in my bed doesn’t change the fact that I
will
be your boss outside of it.”

“Yeah? Just as long as you know
I
will be the boss in the bedroom, no matter if you do write my paycheck.” He angled his head until they were only a breath apart. “Tell me somethin’.”

Being this close to Cash sent her senses into chaos. “What?”

“What changed? Last summer when you and I fooled around a little, you stopped it cold.” His brown eyes searched hers expectantly. “Why?”

“I wasn’t ready to move on.”

“And now?”

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Lorelei James

“I am.”

“For everything that bein’ with me means?”

“Meaning what, Cash?”

“I ain’t some mild-mannered gentleman rancher. I’ve been called a savage. I have savage appetites. Think you can handle it?”

She nodded with more confidence than she felt.

“Then you know what to expect from me when that bedroom door closes?”

“Ah. Um. No. Maybe you’d better spell it out.”

“Obedience. Trust.” He skimmed a finger up her cheek. The casual touch held just enough of an erotic edge that she trembled. “I heard you talkin’ to Channing last summer.

I know there’s a…wild streak inside you. I wanna be the man to tap into it. I wanna give you something he never did.”

Her whole body heated as she remembered the heady feeling of surrendering all control in the name of pleasure. “Okay.”

“Good.” Something primal glittered in his eyes. “It’s ’bout time. I’ve been waitin’

for this day for two damn years.” He hauled her against his body and settled his mouth over hers.

Gemma expected a hard, demanding kiss. But Cash merely pressed his lips to hers and held them there. One callused hand slid up her neck, his thumb tracked the pulse in the hollow of her throat, where her blood beat wildly. The other hand cupped her cheek.

His firm lips indulged in little nips of her trembling mouth. From corner to corner, from top to bottom, a leisurely, teasing glide.

“Let me in,” he whispered, seductively brushing his mouth back and forth against hers. “Kiss me back, Gem.”

Her tongue darted out and traced the seam of his warm lips. Mmm. He tasted as tempting and hot as she’d remembered.

Cash groaned, backing her into the trailer as the gentle kiss turned ravenous.

She latched onto his belt loops and held on for dear life.

Her head spun like a windmill. The way her skin vibrated, it seemed he was touching every inch of her bare flesh, yet his hands hadn’t strayed. He took his own sweet time exploring her mouth. Gauging the change in her heart rate with just a flick of his thumb as the deep kiss became wetter. Hotter. As she became wetter and hotter.

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Rode Hard, Put Up Wet

Cash backed off in increments, muttering softly spoken words against her inflamed lips.

Good thing her spine rested against the camper or she might’ve fallen face-first in the creeping Jenny vines covering the rocky ground. She blinked up at him.

His smile was half-cocky/half-sweet. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“You sure you’re ready for a grumpy old widow set in her ways, whippersnapper?”

“That ain’t funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Cash’s grin vanished and his eyes hardened. “Is this gonna be an issue? Age is a number, Gem. I’m thirty-eight. You’re not. So what?”

“But—”

“Would it matter if I was older than you?”

“No.”

“Then it don’t matter that you got a few years on me.” He kissed her hotly, a drawn out seductive promise. “Besides, you’re sexy. Kinda remind me of Madonna.”

“Madonna the pop singer? But she’s—”

“The same age as you.” He squinted at her. “Yep, definitely. You’re like Madonna in a cowgirl hat. And if I had my pick of any of the ladies—including the material girl, I’d still choose you.”

“I forgot what a sweet-talker you are.” She steered the conversation back to business.

“I’m heading back to my ranch today. When can you be there to start?”

“Damn.” He frowned and shuffled back a step. “One kiss and my mind is on a single track.”

“What?”

“Macie. We’d planned to spend the summer traveling together. Since her momma died a coupla years back, she ain’t got no one else. I can’t just shove her aside, especially when I been doin’ that to the poor kid her whole life.”

Without conscious thought, she smoothed the guilt from his puckered brow. “I don’t expect you to ignore her, Cash. She’s welcome at my place too, if she wants to stay for awhile.”

“It won’t bother you that she’ll know we’re involved in more than a workin’

relationship?”

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Lorelei James

“Maybe I should wonder if it’d bother
you
. Think you might suffer from performance anxiety if you’re trying to fulfill all my wicked sexual fantasies when your daughter is sleeping under the same roof?”

Cash shuddered. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll offer her my camper for the time being. And we’ll park it away from the main house.”

“Good plan. Although, I’m still gonna assign chores for her to earn her keep if she decides to stick around.”

“That won’t be a problem. She’s an independent cuss; she ain’t one to take charity.”

“Like father like daughter, huh?”

“Yep. You won’t regret trackin’ me down.” Cash rubbed his jaw along hers. He placed a soft kiss below her ear and growled, “I’ve half a mind to make you crawl inside the trailer and take off every stitch of clothing right now.”

Warmth pooled between her thighs.

“But as I’ve been itchin’ to touch you forever, I ain’t about to settle for a quick tumble. I wanna take my time. Make it last until the sun comes up. Make
you
come until the sun comes up.” He leveled her with a hungry kiss. “Let’s get loaded, track down Macie and get the hell out of here.”

Gemma was only too happy to oblige.

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Rode Hard, Put Up Wet

Macie Honeycutt muttered, “Watch it, Tex,” as another saddle almost clipped her in the head. It sucked being short. She ducked under the fence and detoured to the beer garden.

As she stood in line, she tried not to obsess about the situation with her dad. After hearing about her epically bad month, he insisted they meet up at a rodeo. Why? Far as she knew, he’d given up chasing the gold-buckle dream last year.

So what was the first thing he’d done after she’d shown up in the middle of nowhere? He’d ditched her!

Like that should surprise you, Macie Blue. You can’t count on him. Cut your losses
and run.

She closed her mind to her mother’s phantom voice. The woman had been dead four years and she still had an opinion. Unfortunately, it was the same bad opinion of Cash Big Crow Macie had heard her entire life.

Macie’s relationship with her father was tenuous at best. He hadn’t been around when she’d been growing up, though as she’d gotten older, he’d made a point to track her down.

So why did she have the perverse need to do exactly the opposite of what Daddy said? It’d serve him right if she hooked up with a hot-tempered, good-looking cowboy, as it appeared he’d done some hooking up of his own.

Yet, by the almost worshipful way he’d talked about Gemma in the last few months, it didn’t surprise Macie that Gemma looked like a former rodeo beauty queen who’d horsewhip the shit out of you if you looked at her crossways. It’d take a woman like that to tame her father.

The white-haired man behind the plywood partition interrupted her thoughts. “What can I getcha, sweetheart?”

“Bud Light. In a bottle.”

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“Can I see some ID?”

“Sure.” Macie whipped out her driver’s license, waiting for the man to make a smarmy remark about her age or her ethnicity.

But the guy smiled, popped the top and slid the bottle across the counter. “Four-fifty.”

She passed him a five. “Keep the change.” She snagged a seat at the back table, propping up her feet on the spare chair to discourage the group of cowboys eyeing her like a chunk of prime sirloin.

How long did her dad expect her to cool her heels?

Didn’t matter. Wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go. Macie tugged her hat lower on her forehead and nursed the beer.

What a jumbled mess her life was. Two months ago she’d caught her boyfriend two-timing her. She should’ve known with a sissy name like
Dante
that he played for both teams. She should’ve known since they’d dated for, oh, two months and they hadn’t had sex that he was, oh,
gay
.

Still, it’d shocked her to walk in on him scoring with his racquetball partner, Dooce.

They’d been so busy playing with each other’s balls and making a “racquet” they hadn’t noticed her.