Second Ride Cowboy (Second Chance Series) (7 page)

In his words…

“Riding a wild animal weighing ten times a human’s weight, and the only thing between the two is a leather strap, is like asking to be speared.”

All of his cattleman trophies and awards were spread across the top of the dresser.

Boxes of his things scattered the floor where Chance had brought them in. It looked like he hadn’t gone through anything but his medals.

The water stopped. Heading toward the door to leave, she paused mid-stride, holding her breath. The door was now open to the bathroom. Through the steam, she saw Duke standing in front of the mirror—naked and wet.

Stunned into paralysis, she stared. The only thing she managed to move was her gaze as she dragged it downward across his bare chest, past flat stomach and long legs. Seeing him nude brought back the memory of a time when she’d known every inch of his body.

A shaky movement in his legs made her jump, but she didn’t run to him. He steadied himself by holding the edge of the sink. Droplets of water from his damp hair splashed onto his broad shoulders. Bits of toilet paper scattered the curve of his jaw where he’d cut himself with a razor or a hacksaw, it could go either way. She remembered he’d always shaved in the shower. The situation would have made her laugh if she wasn’t so overwhelmed with desire. The man dripped of raw masculinity and she wasn’t immune.

“Don’t you knock?”

Lila jerked.
Busted!
His gaze held her in the mirror. Time ticked and he made no effort to cover himself and she didn’t bother leaving. He stood there proud as one corner of his mouth lifted.

The audacity of the man
.

Her exit from the situation would only take four, maybe five steps and through the door to salvation from the torment. So why wouldn’t her feet move? He grew hard and his cock pointed at the ceiling. She swallowed the tightness in her throat.
Talk about a power high
. Her face flooded with warmth and the heat spread downward until it curled deliciously around every nerve ending between her thighs. All she wanted to do was slide her fingers along every contour, every solid muscle of his body, following with her mouth. She hadn’t felt so out of control since the accident and guessed this could be considered the affects from a dry spell. Duke had been the last man she’d had sex with, and she knew she’d been his. Did he miss it as much as she did? Of course, she knew the answer.

Her gaze locked on the hard proof saluting her. He was the perfect height that if she bent over the sink, he’d have entrance into…

Oh hell!

Clearing her throat, she forced her focus on a safer region of his body, yet she couldn’t pinpoint which part wouldn’t provoke some naughty thought. Doing her best, she studied the area between his brows. “I did knock,” she finally said.

He reached to his left and retrieved a towel, wrapping the material around his waist. Her libido whimpered in disappointment. What had she expected? That he’d devour her like he had many times before? A woman could hope. She wouldn’t have turned him away, even if her life had depended on it.

“Is this your habit? Invading someone’s privacy?” Duke removed the pieces of TP and closed the distance between them, and just when she thought he was coming to her, he moved past to the dresser, leaving a fresh soap scent in his trail. “I thought we agreed you’d stay in your own part of the house. Unless you just wanted to check out the goods.”

She saw his ego hadn’t suffered any trauma. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head in disbelief. “Don’t flatter yourself. Although, I must say, one muscle in your body has no problem standing. I guess some things never change.”

He was smiling when he turned to look at her. “And don’t flatter yourself, darlin’. The libido isn’t dead, just too bad we are. Blame the erection on lack of entertainment. It’d happen to anyone.”

“Is that right?” Before she debated the consequences, she took several steps until she stood in front of him and brought her hand up to his chest, sliding one finger along the taut, moist skin. His sex grew past the edge of the towel.

He blinked and his mouth thinned. “What the hell are you doing?”

Standing on tiptoes, her face inches from his, she said, “Don’t worry. I won’t flatter myself into believing this is for me.” She ran the pads of her fingers across the tip of his cock. He sucked in a breath and his eyes widened. “Or that I’d be able to satisfy like I once had. Enjoy taking care of that issue.” She winked and headed to the door. One foot into the hallway, she turned and nailed him with what she hoped was a kiss-my-ass expression. “By the way, your physical therapist should be here soon. I’d handle the “goods” carefully if I was you, otherwise you may just embarrass yourself.”

“Never know, she might appreciate the compliment.”

She slammed the door behind her. The bang echoed down the hall. “Damn!” In her anger, she’d forgotten Ava was asleep. Stopping outside her door, Lila peered in, but the baby slept soundly.

Lila made it downstairs just as a knock came. Standing at the door was a twenty-something, tall, blonde-haired woman. “Can I help you?” Lila asked.

“Hi there, I’m Candy. I’m scheduled for therapy.”

“Of course you’re Candy.” It was more of an accusation than a question. The medical bag and large, purple ball should have given away the other woman’s identity, that is, if Lila could have gotten past her double D’s hanging out of the too-tight tank top. “Hi, Candy.” Lila did her best keeping her tone even. She’d never been the jealous type, so what was the sharp feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach? It shouldn’t matter if the sexy blonde therapist would be

touching her ex-lover-baby-dad all over his sensitive, deprived body. The groping would be for therapeutic purposes only. What difference did it make that she looked like she’d walked out of a modeling studio?

Lila almost smiled at the silliness until she got a glimpse of herself in the decorative mirror hanging in the foyer. Batter covered clothes, messy hair and jean cut offs probably wouldn’t have been her first choice in how she’d presented herself when she’d answered the door to Candy-in-yoga-pants. Self-consciously, Lila brought her hand up to push back the loose tendrils of hair around her face and something hard fell to the floor. A piece of cereal.
Oh hell!
Ava’s breakfast had found its way everywhere but in the bowl.

“You were expecting me at ten, right?” Candy glanced down at her thin gold watch.

Lila chastised herself for being ridiculous. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. You’re right on time.” Without another moment’s hesitation, Lila welcomed the girl in.

“I love your place. I don’t think I’d be cut out for farm life,” Candy said as she popped her gum loudly.

“This is a ranch,” Lila corrected her.

“Is there a difference?”

“I’ll run and get Duke. You can ask him that question. That’ll give you something to discuss during therapy.” Any sliver of jealousy Lila had felt disappeared. She only wished she could be a fly on the wall when Candy-pants asked Duke how farms and ranches were different.

Lila didn’t make it to the stairs. Duke rounded the corner and almost ran into her. “Excuse me,” he said.

“I haven’t seen you walk that fast in a while. I see the leg isn’t as stiff.” Lila stifled a laugh.

“Good one, sweetheart,” he said with a narrowed expression.

He was dressed in a black T-shirt and worn jeans. The outfit wasn’t fancy, but it endorsed the fact he was a six-feet-three, broad-shouldered, slender-hipped cowboy with a tough masculinity that could make a woman collapse into a puddle of appreciation. Not to mention, he had a nice ass. He moved slow and with a limp, but his energy was returning. “You came down at the right time, Duke. This is Candy, your physical therapist.”

Smelling the ooey-gooeyness of chocolate brownies, Lila left them alone, but not without one last glance at Candy’s effervescent smile and Duke’s roguish grin.
I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.
No matter how many times she repeated the words, she still cared.

In the kitchen, she let off steam by mixing up the ingredients for a peach pie and kneaded the dough for the crust until her fingers ached.

It was going to be a long month. Lila was going to have to hit the gym and the only candy it had anything to do with was the eye candy dressed in jeans with eyes the color of the sky.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DUKE FELT A little out of character sitting atop the beach ball, after all, it wasn’t a horse, but the therapist assured him it was a great way to get the balance back in his limbs. He’d probably care if his mind was on the task at hand instead of one sexy, naughty female.

An image of Lila as she’d looked standing in his bedroom developed in his mind. She hadn’t even pretended embarrassment as she’d stared at him with beautiful, wide eyes and pouty bottom lip.

Damned woman!
It wasn’t enough he’d locked himself in his bedroom and now he couldn’t have refuge in his own space.

His first instinct when seeing Lila’s reflection in the mirror was to grab a towel and cover his body but a thought had crossed his mind, or rather two thoughts. One, he’d wanted to deny her the pleasure of forcing him to cover himself. Second, seeing her watching him had been a rise to the ego—and other things. He was thinner and disfigured on areas of his body, but truth was, he’d noticed the blatant appreciation in her expression. He felt a twitch behind his zipper with the mere thought.

He shifted on the ball, hoping to hide the evidence in his jeans. He cast a glance across the room at his so-called therapist who tapped away at her phone. Probably sexting by the Cheshire smile on her face. He wondered if she were old enough to legally buy a beer, let alone have enough training as a therapist.

Hell, he didn’t care, just as long as she stayed back. She giggled and gave her hair a toss over her shoulder. Apparently, doing her own personal thing made her happy.

He focused straight ahead on the framed painting of a horse. He didn’t know much about art, but had an idea the picture was expensive. It was a leftover from old man McAllister who had luxurious tastes. Chance had told Duke he could get rid of anything left in the house, but he guessed it’d take him a bit to get comfortable in the new surroundings. Before he’d been bound to bed sleeping off the coma, he’d lived in the working quarters at the Swift Wind. Of course, staying there had been a choice, not a necessity. He’d always been a man of basics and as long as he had a bed and a sink to wash up, he was a satisfied man.

He had more than a pot-to-piss-in now. He had a home and a fam—

Shit!

“Keep going. You’re doing good,” the therapist said, pulling his thoughts off the sore subject. He didn’t even glance her direction.

He was getting stronger. His muscles weren’t as weak. Soon he could be out on the ranch again. The whole pathetic body thing crushed his ego, especially a man who’d once had enough self-esteem for three men.

He was bent, not broken, and his inflated confidence could rub some people the wrong way, but he’d never been heartless. He realized he’d said some hurtful words to Lila at the clinic. He couldn’t take them back, but he guessed he could apologize. Yet, saying sorry meant he’d had a change of mind, and he hadn’t. What sort of father could he be? The only parental role he’d had growing up was Chance’s father and he was a mighty fine one, but good parenting definitely wasn’t handed down in his genes.

He’d wanted to be a father, that is, before the accident. Before the scars. Maybe at a time when Lila was his.

Bitterness rose in his throat. He loved Lila. He’d awakened from the coma and he’d wanted to see her pretty face.

When she’d walked into the room at the hospital he’d seen her look of shock. Had she’d given up hope on him waking up? Eighteen months was a long time. If she’d been the one laying in that bed, would he have given up?
Hell no.
There’d been no other to fill his heart. However,

he couldn’t forget she’d had his child. She’d carried their baby, given birth and cared for her alone. Then one day she gets a call telling her he was awake. Hell, news of that magnitude would send anyone for a loop.

Something more than pride made him resentful. The fact was, Lila had moved on, at least that’s how it seemed. He’d seen the rock on her finger and Chance verified she’d gotten engaged to pretty boy Lucas. He remembered the doc. The man had good looks and a heroic job. Who wouldn’t like him? Duke hated him.

He growled, which caught the therapist’s attention. She eyed him over top of her cell. “Sorry to disturb you,” Duke said.

She grinned, probably a smile she’d perfected to get her way. It was wasted on him. Maybe once upon a time, he’d have been attracted to her, but another woman had her claws in his skin, and for the life of him, he liked the pain. “That’s okay. Just girl talk. My bestie broke up with her boyfriend. He cheated. Sarah is pissed.”

This is where he had to draw the line. If this wasn’t humiliating enough, there was no way in hell he’d listen to her chit-chat. He stood up from the oversized ball and gave it a light kick. “Candy? Right?” She nodded as her eyes widened. “Candy, tell Sarah all men are pricks. The sooner she realizes it the better. And here’s another fact, real cowboys don’t ride sissy colored balls. They ride stallions. You got one of those tucked away in that bag of yours?”

Her face paled. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” He moved toward the hallway. “You’re done here.”

“But…but,” she sputtered. “I…we have another thirty minutes.”

He stopped at the threshold and looked at her. “Think of it this way, now you can do what real friends do.”

“What’s that?” She appeared confused.

“They chat face-to-face. Ever tried it?” Her mouth dropped.
Apparently not
. “Try it some time.”

****

Duke relaxed back onto his bed and stretched his legs. He’d gotten comfortable just as the knock came. He wasn’t surprised, knowing Lila would be breathing down his neck for the Candy issue. Instead of getting up, he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. He’d hoped she’d gotten the hint and left, but unfortunately, she opened the door. His own damn fault for not turning the lock.

He opened his eyes, but didn’t acknowledge her. He grabbed the remote from the nightstand and flipped on the TV.

“Don’t you dare act like I’m not standing here!” she said.

He didn’t need to see her to know she had her gaze on him, hard as nails. “Didn’t we have the discussion about privacy?” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the flat screen. “You’re interrupting my show.” She moved across the room, into his line of sight, kicking a few cans and clothes along her way. “Aw, now that just stinks. I had those items right where I wanted them.”

She clicked the power button on the TV and turned toward him. Her fists were situated on her hips. Was she preparing for a lecture?

“Why did you send the therapist away? She was here to help you,” she asked.

He didn’t want to satisfy her with a reply, but he knew she’d grill him until he did. “I don’t need her.”

“Dr. Scott thinks you do.”

“Dr. Scott has never been asked to roll around on a purple ball.”

“Is that why you sent her away? Because the color of the ball wasn’t manly enough?” She blew out a breath.

“I don’t have time to kill.” Duke sat up against the headboard.

“Of course you don’t. Not when you can sit around all day watching men holding sticks.”

“It’s called pool and those men are sharks.” One brow popped up and her frown deepened.

Yeah, he’d sunk pretty low.
He played pool, but had never been one to sit back and watch the action. He couldn’t resist the temptation any longer. He brought his gaze up to look at her. He knew she’d been puttering around the kitchen all morning. The sounds of clattering pots and pans, and the sweet and savory smells of home cooking floated into his room like a hypnotic lure. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair hung in waves and he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it on his way to touching skin. She’d exchanged the T-shirt for a strapless red top and shorts that made him want to drag them down her legs with his teeth.
Fuck!
His balls ached.

 “You need to go out,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You want to sit around here all day eating your chips, so be it.” She threw her hands up. “You want to live in a pig sty, I can’t stop you.” She kicked a shirt across the room.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work giving your patients instructions? Lay off me. I’m not a child.”

“There comes a point in everyone’s life when they need to realize their attitude is comparable to a spoiled brat.”

Her words raced through him like wildfire. He slid off the bed, making a sizeable effort in moving as fast as his body would carry him. Standing at his full height, with his legs steady underneath him, he stared at her. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you get? For some reason, you can’t understand those boundaries.” His adrenaline was on high.

“I’m trying to help your ass when all I want to do is kick it into the next county.”

“No one asked for your help. In fact, it’s annoying.” Her bottom lip trembled. A stab of guilt made him swallow. He reminded himself to keep his wall up.

“I’m annoying?” Her laughter was harsh. Most women would have stormed out, but not Lila. She stomped across the room and stopped directly in front of him. Her eyes were like daggers ready to slice him into shreds. “I know boundaries, Duke. I know them very well. But let me help you with remembering a few things. Four years ago, you walked out of my life. I left you alone. Then one day you show up on my doorstep with a story of wanting to help Chance and Carly reunite. It didn’t take long before we landed in bed—again. I promised myself I’d never fall for your charm like I’d done the first time. Unfortunately, I fell like a foolish teenager, in spite of knowing you’re not the commitment type.” He saw a mist in her eyes. She blinked and the moisture disappeared. “Now you’re running just like before, and using your injury as the excuse. Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“If you don’t leave now, I won’t be held responsible for what happens!” Every muscle in his body tensed.

“What are you talking about?”

Logical reasoning gone, he grabbed her hips and dragged her against his body. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he whispered as he dropped his mouth to hers. He pressed his lips against her, slipping his tongue inside her mouth and tasting her sweetness. Every nerve ending, every cell, charged alive. He was consumed with heat and need. If he didn’t gather himself, he’d lose control.

He started to pull away, but her arms looped around his neck and a moan escaped her, erasing any possibility that this would end without fulfillment. He’d suffer the consequences later, for now he wanted to fall into the madness and the unyielding connection that drew them together.

Her fingers dropped to his waist and undid the button. At the same time, he slid his hands down her slender body, to the hem of her shorts and smoothed his palms across her silken thighs. In one swift move, he lifted her until her legs were wrapped around his hips. He took two steps to the bed and lowered her, keeping their bodies entwined. He laid down on top of her.

He lifted his head and looked down into her bright eyes. “Tell me to stop, and I will.” His words came out on a long breath.

The tip of her tongue swept out and moistened her bottom lip. “Stop now and I shall burn and disintegrate,” she whispered.

Lifting himself up on his knees, he unfastened her shorts and removed them from her body, her pink panties followed. The air left his lungs in bittersweet yearning. “Damn, you’re so beautiful.” He ran his palm along the slight curve of her stomach and downward, running his fingers across the apex of her thighs. Vanilla entwined with the scent of sweet pussy enveloped his senses. His cock grew and he thought he’d burst.

She must have read his thoughts. She unzipped his jeans and pushed them off his hips, freeing his cock that stood full and erect. He helped by sliding them further down his legs and gave them a toss. Her fingers wrapped around him, pumping and milking, as her hips churned in invitation. Urgency washed over him. It’d been long, too long, and he searched for control. Managing his breathing and burying his face into her chest, he counted ten. When the tightness eased some, he buried his finger knuckle deep inside her silken opening. “You’re fucking hot.”