Tall, Dark and Cowboy (20 page)

Something moved at the edge of Lacey’s vision, a bright slash in the sky. She turned, but she’d missed it—and as she turned, something streaked across the patch of sky she’d turned away from.

“Meteors,” said a deep voice behind her. Chase’s boots crunched on the dry earth.

She wanted to turn and look at him, but another gleam of light sped across the sky, and she felt riveted, her eyes searching for the next streaking comet. What seemed so permanent was changing minute by minute on a scale she couldn’t even imagine.

“Falling stars,” Chase said, as if she didn’t know what a meteor was.

“Falling?” she asked. “Or flying?”

“Flying, maybe.” He settled down beside her, bringing his knees to his chest and clasping them in his arms as he tipped his head back to share the view. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Falling would mean they’re failing.” She spotted another and traced its path with one finger. “Flying means they’re moving, changing, going somewhere.”

“Like you?”

“Not right now.” She’d been flying as she sped across the country, the Mustang’s bald tires eating up the highway. But she wasn’t flying now. The urge that had struck her at Trent’s party—the urge to simply run fast and far, wherever her feet could take her—had struck her over and over, but she had nowhere to go.

“You’re still flying, Lacey. Still changing.”

She was scanning the sky, concentrating on something outside herself, so she almost didn’t notice when his hand stole into hers. When she focused on it, she felt everything keenly—his skin rough and warm, the faint pressure as he squeezed her hand.

“I mean, look where you started with the horses this morning, and look where you are now. Even a seasoned rider might not have gotten back on Captain after getting tossed like that.” She could hear a smile lightening his tone. “I mean, your butt had to hurt on the way home.”

“It still hurts.”

He reached up with his other hand and rubbed her back between her shoulder blades in slow, gentle circles. It was nowhere near her injury, but somehow it made the ache in her tailbone feel better. She tilted toward him. The fathomless depth of the sky, the wide expanse of the land, the sounds of crickets and calm breezes going about their business without her, had made her feel alone and insignificant, but Chase’s touch reminded her she was real. She wanted to feel his warmth, savor the feeling of closeness to another human being. It wasn’t Chase, she told herself. She just didn’t want to be alone.

Another star traced a shining path across the sky, and he paused, resting his hand on her shoulder. They sat and watched the distant fireworks of the universe in silence for a long while, her hand still clasped in his, his arm around her back, sitting in the dirt by a clump of sagebrush in a world she didn’t know and had never expected to find.

For some strange reason, she’d never felt so at home.

***

Chase stared resolutely at the stars, knowing that if he looked at Lacey, he’d kiss her. She’d looked so alone when he’d walked up. So forlorn, seated Indian-style like a lone toddler in front of the ultimate big-screen TV—but what she was watching was the whole world, spinning around her without a thought for a woman alone and struggling.

Everyone needed somebody. Lacey might not want to trust a man again, but she had to trust someone. And he wanted it to be him.

But he’d promised. He shouldn’t even be holding her hand. After all, he’d hired her. He was her boss now, and any sexual shenanigans were out of the question.

She sighed and uncrossed her legs, tilting toward him as she bent her knees and tucked them sideways. Her hand was in his, his arm around her shoulder. He could hear her breath soft beside him, the one human sound in the quiet Wyoming night.

Maybe he could fire her just for tonight. Then they could do what they wanted. Because he had a feeling she wanted as much as he did.

She tucked her head on his shoulder, and they watched another star streak through the night. He knew the stars were falling, not flying. Nothing was constant, and there wasn’t a single thing in the universe you could depend on—not a sky, not a star, and certainly not the future. He’d worked out a perfect plan for the ranch—one that included finding the right partner so he’d have children to pass it on to. He wanted to pass on all his father had taught him—but now here was Lacey, the last person he’d expected to see in Grady, throwing a cosmic wrench into his carefully planned life like a new star spinning into his orbit and throwing him off course.

“Calamity Lacey,” he said.

“What?”

“Like Calamity Jane. She came out here and shook up everybody in the West. That’s what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He turned, brushing her forehead with his lips. “You’re fired.”

She tucked her head under his chin. “Thanks.”

She tilted her face up to his so his next kiss fell on her lips. That was all the signal he needed. Moving his hand up from her shoulder to her nape, sliding his fingers into the silky mass of her hair, he let her hand loose and swept his fingers over her face. Tracing the curve of her smooth cheek with his fingertips, he kissed her temple, her cheekbone, the hollow beneath it, and finally her lips.

Suddenly the night sky wasn’t black and cold and bottomless; it was deep velvet, soft and nurturing, a shroud to hide and protect them. Lacey paused when his lips brushed hers, and for a heartbeat, he thought she might push him away, but then her lips parted and let him in.

Now it was sexual.

He lost all sense of where they were and focused only on the feel of her skin and the touch of her lips. He drew her close and let himself fall, the sky swelling over them as she let him pull her with him onto the ground. A pebble dug into his shoulder blade and a stick poked his ribs, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care how prickly or hard or unyielding the world was as long as he could be the one to bear it. Him, not Lacey. Pulling her on top of him, he nested his hands in her hair as she caught her balance and settled on top of him.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” she murmured, scattering soft kisses down his jawline. “The rocks…”

“I don’t care.” He brought his hands up to frame her face and scanned her face. “I don’t care, as long as nothing hurts you.”

Her eyes closed while she drew in a breath. He knew she’d retreated inside herself to decide on her own whether she’d let him in or not. She was choosing what power she’d give him and what she’d keep for herself.

When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was soft as the night sky and her lips curved into a smile.

“Let’s go home,” she said. “I don’t want anything to hurt you either.”

***

Lacey tugged Chase to his feet and they walked back to the house hand in hand, helping each other as they stumbled over rocks in the dark. Staring at the stars had made her night-blind, and he wasn’t doing much better at navigating the uneven ground.

She’d vowed to steer clear of Chase and decide her own future. But she’d known ever since she’d seen him sitting behind the counter at the dealership that he was part of her future. She could fight it, or she could face it.

If she faced it, maybe she could be the one to determine just how far it would go.

It wasn’t like Chase took anything away from her when he touched her. Having sex with her husband had felt like handing over more than her body, but having sex with Chase felt liberating, like she was setting herself free.

She paused inside the back door, glancing from the hallway on the left that led to his room to the new rooms on the right where she’d been sleeping. They’d go to her room, not his.

Of course all the rooms were his. It was his house. But she’d put out her things that day, stacking a few paperback novels on the nightstand, tucking her clothes into an empty dresser drawer, arranging a bottle of perfume and some lotions on the dresser. She’d done her best to make it her own small space in the world, and she wanted to share it with Chase—not intrude on his world, but welcome him into what little she had that was her own.

She’d been grateful for the soft mattress the night before, when her back had ached from her fall, and she was even more grateful now to feel it give beneath her as she fell into it with Chase. There was no time for preparation, for plumping pillows or turning back the quilt. Chase fell with her, propping himself on his hands and knees at the last moment so he wouldn’t crush her while they resumed their kiss.

His mouth met hers again, and he let his hips fall, laying the length of his body against hers. She could feel his arousal between them, impossibly urgent, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed him closer with her. Everything in her body warmed and softened. She felt nothing but elation, pure joy, and she wondered if the stars minded falling, because she was falling, falling fast and hot, and she didn’t care. She’d let her emotions burn high tonight, and if it was the last time—well, she had a feeling it was going to be worth it.

Chase slid his hips against hers and she reached up to pull at his collar, a rush of giddy joy bubbling up when it gave in her grip. Snaps, not buttons. They popped open one after the other, top to bottom, and she watched her hands slide over his skin. She took in the square shadows that defined his chest and the muscles below it, memorizing the dark trail that narrowed and dipped below his belt buckle and flowed like a river through the muscular topography of his body. Running her fingertips over square hills and subtle valleys, she followed her fingers with her gaze. She’d seen it all before, but now they had time, and she wasn’t going to miss a single detail.

He kissed her again, and she focused every ounce of her consciousness on the feeling of his lips brushing hers—the taste of his tongue, the slight hint of mint on his breath, and the sweet scent of grass and pine and straw that might be some manly aftershave or might just be the scent of a man who led his life outdoors. She tucked her face into the angle under his jaw and breathed him in as she rubbed her cheek into the rough stubble of his beard. Slipping the shirt off his shoulders, she stroked her hands over the muscles of his back.

She could feel his hands running over her too, exploring with the same fervor. He was watching her with the same intent determination to see everything, to miss nothing, to savor every second. They were both living wholly inside the moment, relishing every detail of touch, taste, and smell.

She was determined not to miss a thing, and she hadn’t—except for the one, inconsequential detail of how she’d ended up naked so fast. She’d been so lost in tracing the contours of his body that she hadn’t realized he’d uncovered hers, and her T-shirt and bra, the pink pants and sandals, were scattered on the floor like debris from a bomb blast.

She laughed, tilting her head back, but the laugh turned to a gasp as his hands swept down her belly and cupped the warmth between her legs. His fingers stroked while his kiss deepened. She was slick, so wet and ready, and his touch made her lose her sense of how perfect
now
was. She arched up to meet the next moment, the one where he’d be inside her, where the heat would build and she’d explode like one of those falling stars slamming to the earth and sending up a fountain of sparks and flame.

“Easy,” he whispered. “We have time.”

She knew he was right, but she wanted that release so badly. Struggling to slow her heartbeat, she clenched her fists and pressed her cheek into his shoulder, closing her eyes and letting her body move with the feelings building inside her as his fingers dipped and stroked. Twice she thought she was lost, and twice he drew back, kissing her back to the present. Then he kissed her breasts, her belly, the curve of her hip, and suddenly his mouth was there, right
there
, and she could feel warmth rising inside her.

She rose on the wave, the warmth cresting and breaking until it washed away and left her lying limp on the bed. When she swam back to reality, he was propped on one elbow, watching her with all the wonder she’d felt watching the stars. She felt like what they’d discovered in each other was as big as the universe and just as deep, just as far-reaching, and just as eternal.

Reaching up, she stroked her hand down his chest, starting at his shoulder and trailing her hand down the hollows and swells. She traced his muscles with the back of her fingers, then swept her hand back up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

She might not be on top, but she was in charge. She sipped and tasted, stroked and soothed, dipped and licked, then flexed her hips against him. Tugging at the waistband of his jeans, she twisted the button undone and tugged the zipper down, trailing her fingers down the hard length of him.

***

Things were moving along fast—too fast. Chase wanted to take it slow this time, make sure Lacey knew this was about love, not sex.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Wait.”

“What, are you scared?” She looked up at him, all glimmering eyes and teasing smile, and waiting got even harder.

“No. Yes. Maybe,” he said. Then he said something unintelligible, a cross between a moan and a shiver as she stroked him, then moved her finger in a slow, teasing circle. She tugged at his jeans, spreading the fly open and hauling them halfway down his hips before pulling away the elastic band of his boxers to reveal one very, very clear indication of how he felt about her.

But that wasn’t the feeling he wanted to concentrate on tonight. They’d had sex in the office and in the motel, but he wasn’t sure they’d really made love either time. They’d been too caught up in their mutual physical need to really think about their feelings.

And she wouldn’t meet his eyes. He’d noticed that since the episode in the truck. Whenever he fixed his eyes on hers, she shied like a scared filly. It was as if she didn’t want to acknowledge who he was; as if she wanted to pretend that it was his body she wanted and not
him
, his love and his faith and his willing and inevitable surrender.

“Lacey, wait.” He sat up, pulling her with him. “Wait.”