Second Song Cowboy (Second Chance) (16 page)

“No
t long.” He crossed the tall grass and joined her on the ground. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just working on a new song.”

“Play it for me.”

“When it’s done, I will.” She
glowed and it competed with the rays of the sun. Propping her guitar against the tree, she shifted her body toward him. “You’re just the man I wanted to see.”

His heart skipped a beat. “I sensed that so I came immediate
ly.”

“
You always knew when I needed you, even if instinct erupted at three A.M.” A cherub’s bow smile curved her lips. He wanted to kiss her but cooled the urge.

“So you remember when I serenaded you in the middle of the night. I’m surprised your grandpa didn’t come after me with his shotgun.” He laughed.

“I’m afraid he felt too sorry for you to complain. He just worried that you’d shatter the windows.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Come on, you know y
ou think I’m sexy when I sing.”

She nodded and stared at him through the veil of her lashes. “Speaking of singing, I’ve been thinking…”

“Is that right?” He picked up a twig and rolled it around his fingers.

“I’d like to
do another show to benefit the Cure for Cancer Foundation at the rodeo coming up. The foundation is located in San Antonio and I did some research last night. Being here makes me think of Gramps. His cancer had spread so quickly. I feel like I should do something.”

“Because you feel guilty for not being here when he pas
sed away.” The words tumbled from him before he thought how she would respond. Her eyes turned watery. Would she cry?
Shit!
He deserved to hang by his toes.

Hesitant, she said, “I guess I do feel guilty.
I know what you think of me not being here with him, but I didn’t know he was sick. If I had, I would have dropped everything.”

“And that’s why he didn’t call yo
u, and he asked me not to either.”

“What?” She pushed her fingers through her hair. “Why?”

“I spoke to him every day the last two weeks of his life, April. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him at the end.” His throat constricted as he remembered how much the man had suffered the last month.

“You sure did give me hell in Houston over not being here.”

“Damn, sweetheart, you got to admit that you disappeared. But, hell, I should have called and told you he was sick, even if he’d gotten angry.”

Biting her lower l
ip, she swiped away a tear from her cheek. “Honestly, I don’t know if I could have handled seeing him in pain. I’m glad you were here for him.” She laid her hand on his as electricity shot up his arm and seeped into his veins. When she pulled away, his skin turned icy cold. “Being here on the farm, I feel so much closer to him.”

“H
e loved you very much. He understood your demanding career.”

“I went to his grave earlier. Did you plant the flowers?”

He nodded. “It seemed the least I could do.”

Tears started pouring down her cheeks and a scorching heat filled his lungs. “Damn, we can’t have this.”
He dragged her into his arms and a gasp fell from her lips. At first, she stiffened, but soon she fell against him and laid her head on his shoulder, sobbing.

“I-I don’t know what’s come over me,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“This is good for you.”
But not for me.
He didn’t like seeing her sad. “Let it all out, sweetheart. Let the guilt go.” He soothed her with kind words, combing his fingers through her hair while rubbing the small of her back. Just like old times.

She sniffed loudly and
dropped her head back, gazing up at him with red-rimmed eyes and moist cheeks. He couldn’t imagine a more innocent expression. His mind traveled back to the marriage proposal. She probably believed he’d asked her out of obligation, but she had no clue what she meant to him…still after all these years. Being here, with her in his arms, was a harsh reminder of how much she’d buried herself into his soul back when life was easy.

Her tears dried.

“All better now?” He swiped his thumb across the remnants of wetness. An impish smile spread her perfectly shaped lips. He wanted his kiss her—more than just a kiss, but he wanted a replay of their lovemaking. And something far more dangerous. He wanted her to fall in love with him, again.

“
I’m better,” she whispered. His hand went back to hair, entwining his long fingers in the tresses.

****

April stared up into Dante’s heated gaze. She knew he wanted to kiss her, and she wished he would. Oh, how she yearned to have him slip his hand inside of her shirt and knead her aching breasts. Touch her tender skin and mold her body to his.

Her stomach growled, breaking the mood, and she dropped her hand to her belly.

“Hungry?” Thick brows curved above curious eyes.

“V
ery.”
But not for food
.

“I’ll cook you lunch.
And because I didn’t think you’d have anything besides eggs, I stopped and picked up a few groceries.” He was already pulling away and she had no choice but to drop her fingers from his shirt.

“You
are cooking?”

He grinned. “I can cook a little. I learned
quickly when I couldn’t stomach another bowl of cereal.”

“
I don’t think about the fridge being empty. I guess I need to start.” He held his hand out and she accepted his help up from the ground. She swiped the grass from her bottom. “But you didn’t have to get my groceries.”

Nodding and
giving her a sweet wink, he said, “I need to make sure you’re eating.”

Five minutes later, they were in the kitchen and from her perch on the bar stool, April watched Dante unload the groceries. She spotted a pink box and she sat up straighter. “Did you stop at Elsa’s Fluff?”

“Yes, but this surprise is after you eat your food.” He stuck the box in the fridge. “By the way, Elsa said hello.”

She could smell the chocolate from across the room and if she had only herself to think about, she’d skipped anything of nutritional substance and go straight for the goodies.
“You met Elsa! Isn’t she amazing?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about amazing. I stopped and picked out dessert and that’s all.”

April laughed. “Oh, you didn’t notice how adorable she is? She’d make a perfect girlfriend. In addition to looks, her baking skills are the bomb.”

“Are you trying to hook me up?” He seemed
slightly offended.

“Not you, but I did think of
Deckland. I think they’d hit it off.”

He gathered items from one of the bags and set them out on the counter. “You really do need to stock your shelves. I’m about useless in the kitchen and I still would know to have basics like salt, sugar and milk.
And coffee. What’s a home without it?”

“Are you completely ignoring what I
said about Elsa and Deckland?” she huffed.

“I’m trying to.” He busied himself cracking eggs into a bowl.

“So, is this your way of saying Deckland wouldn’t be interested in her?”

“I don’t stick my nose into his dating life.” He glanced up. “He’s a big boy and if he wants a woman he can get one.”

“But he is a great guy. How has a woman not grabbed him up?”

Whipping the eggs, he added a few spices. “There was some chick named Aspen who he seemed interested in, but she took off.”

“Took off? Like how?” April asked.

“I don’t know. Ask Peyton. They were best friends.”

Sliding off the stool, she went to stand next to him. She glanced across the counter top full of canned goods. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” It was touching that he’d do this for her.

A mischievous grin covered his mouth. “I try.”

“Need some help?” she asked.

“No, you sit right there and look beautiful.”

“Should I have my feelings hurt?”

“
I’m not saying that to be mean, but do you cook anything besides cereal?” He cracked another two eggs. “You said you hate cooking.”

“
Cereal doesn’t require cooking.”

“Exa
ctly.” A wide smile broke out over his delectable face. “I tasted the cake you made yourself for your nineteenth birthday. I think it scarred my taste buds.”

She playfully pinched him. “That’s not nice
.” Feeling inadequate, she grabbed a head of lettuce. “I can make a salad.” She didn’t want him to think she was entirely hopeless in the kitchen. Throwing a tomato, cucumber and pepper into a bowl, she went to an empty space on the butcher-block island.

As she diced and sliced veggies, he dragged a
chair closer to her and straddled the seat, facing her. Suddenly, the knife grew heavier and she became more uncomfortable. Knowing he was watching her brought every hair on her body to attention.

“
Have you thought anymore about the proposal?”

Slicing into the pepper, she attempted to concentrate on making the
pieces uniform. Licking her lips, she said, “Of course. How would I forget it?”

“And no conclusion yet?”

Popping a slice into her mouth, she chewed slowly. “Not yet.” The warm, savory smells of his cooking started filling the kitchen and her stomach rumbled, finally hungry for something more than his kiss.

“Do you doubt my sincerity?”

She swallowed. “Maybe.”

“T
hat’ll change.”

Putting the knife down, she turned to him, staring into his twinkling gaze. “Is that right? Explain.”

The timer dinged. “Saved by the bell. I better go get the egg and potato bake out of the oven.”

April snorted. “Can’t you talk and use oven mittens at the same time?”

“Are you going to finish that salad before it wilts?” he challenged.

Laughing, she quickly tossed the ingredients. “Done, and I still have all ten of my fingers.”

“Let me see.” He placed the hot plate on the stove then came to her, taking her hands into his, examining each of her fingers. “They look fine, but how do they taste?” He brought her hand to his mouth, licking each finger, as if she were a lollipop. Fire ignited through her veins and capsized logical thought. When the last digit slipped from his mouth, he let go of her hand and disappointment slithered through her. His gaze held hers and she was lost. “Yes, very good.”

April knew, without a doubt, that fighting her feelings for Dante would be wasted energy, because he’d
always own her heart.

Chapter Fifteen

THE YOUNG BULL rider tightened his chaps around his thighs and pulled on his worn leather gloves. He climbed over the cage and straddled the bull that snarled and beat at the dirt with his left hoof. Dread crossed the rider’s bearded face then he turned green as the bull struck his head off the side of the chute. The animal hopped and bounced a few more times as if he could smell the fear.

“H
e won’t last.” Dante elbowed Dillon as they watched from the rail. “He looks like he’s at a cross between shitting his pants or running home to mommy.”

Dillon shrugged. “If I had to climb atop a beast like Mercy I’d be shaking in my boots to
o. I ain’t afraid to admit it.”

“I don’t think Mercy will show any sympathy this afternoon. He’s rearing to go.”

The horn sounded and the door shot open. Mercy shot out of the cage, bucking, hopping and thrashing the young rider like a paper doll. The rider’s expression became more petrified as he tightened his grip on the rope. The bull gave a double kicker and the rider dropped.

“
Yeah, didn’t think he’d last eight seconds.” Dante hooked his booted heel on the bottom railing. “I miss the ride.”

Dillon gave him a sidelong glance. “You were lucky. You got out without any long-term damage.
There comes a point that every man must stop doing crazy things for an adrenaline rush.”

Dante sno
rted. “I sold the Harley.”

“Is that right?”

“If a baby car seat doesn’t fit on the back then I don’t need it. I’ll miss her, but a cowboy does what needs done.” He scrubbed his jaw and stared into the arena, but seeing nothing.

“
It’s about time, bro.” Dillon thumped him on the back. “And it was just a bike. You have a pot of gold waiting at the end of the rainbow.” He glanced at his watch. “What time is April performing?”

“One-thirty. And where the hell is Deckland?
” Dante dropped his boot and scanned the crowd.

Dillon shrugged. “I don’t know what’s keeping him.
Hey, there are two familiar faces. Chance Taylor and Duke McGraw.” He pointed to the two brawny men coming their way.

“We thought that was you two rednecks,” Chance said as he
approached. “How are you doing, cowboy?”