The Cowboy's Saving Grace, an erotic western novella (Taming the Cowboy) (10 page)

She was eager enough, too. And it had been so long. It seemed right that her drought was broken by the father of her child.

The next song was apparently a line dance. She backed away from Liam when he tried to pull her into the line. "I have no idea," she said, waving her hands in front of her as she retreated to the edge of the dance floor. "I'll just watch."

Oh, yes, that was a pleasure. She loved the way he moved, thumbs tucked in his belt, ass gorgeous in tight Levis. His shoulders rolled to the rhythm, his booted feet moved deftly through the steps as he shuffled, kicked, circled, stepped. When he turned in her direction, his gaze met hers and he grinned before taking the next turn.

"Hey, come on, let's dance." A cowboy grabbed her waist and swept her toward the floor.

A surge of panic rolled through her. The cowboy was bigger than Liam, stronger, and he had a good grip on her. She tried to slip free, but he tightened his fingers on her hip. "No, I don't—I can't—"

The cowboy released her then, so abruptly she almost fell. She regained her balance to see Liam in front of the stranger, head tilted back, shoulders squared. The cowboy who'd held her—she got her first good look at him, tall, dark and drunk, wearing an embroidered shirt that probably cost more than she made in a night—didn't back off. Why should he? He was half a head taller than Liam, and broader. And younger.

"She doesn't want to dance with you," Liam said, his tone even.

"Sure she does. She was just waiting there to be asked."

"You didn't ask. You took. You need to show manners, son. You don't touch a lady without asking. Am I going to have to teach you that lesson the hard way?"

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "You think you can take me?"

Liam inclined his head. "I know I can. Not my first bar fight."

Okay, what was this primal thrill going through her that he was defending her honor? She'd been taking care of herself for ten years against men who didn't understand the rules. And as much as she wanted to punch them, sometimes, she couldn’t let Liam get in a fight. She stepped close to Liam and touched the back of his fist.

"It's okay. Let's not ruin our night over this."

He glanced over at her, his eyes icy. For a moment she thought he didn't hear her, or wouldn't listen, but then he opened his fist to take her hand, and nodded.

"Saved by a woman," the other man sneered.

Liam tensed, but continued to walk with her to the table.

"Thank you," she murmured when they sat and he motioned for a waitress.

"Just pissed me off."

"I mean, thank you for walking away."

He blew out a long breath. "You're right, no sense in letting him ruin our night."

"I am kind of pissed, though," she said, tracing a design in the condensation left by her beer bottle. "I was having fun watching you dance. I think Noah may have gotten some of his moves from you, the way you shake your ass out there."

He flashed a surprised look at her, then smiled, reluctantly. "You think I shake my ass."

"I witnessed it."

He leaned on the table and took her hands in his. "Maybe I need your hands on it to hold it still, then."

Just his words sent heat flooding through her. "Next song."

The waitress brought two more beers and they drank a little before returning to the floor to another slow song. As promised, she tucked her hand in his back pocket, aware of the possessiveness of the move, surprised that she had no issue with it.

He took off his hat and placed it on her head, just as another couple bumped into them, hard enough to knock the hat off.

She released him to sweep it up before it got crushed, straightening to meet the angry eyes of the big cowboy. Beneath her hand, Liam tensed, and she felt his breathing change.

"Maybe we should go," she murmured.

"Hell, no. You said it—he's not going to ruin our night. We'll just be aware of where he is, and avoid him."

She nodded.  "Good plan."

He tucked her back against him and smiled when she put his hat back on his head.

***

Grace hadn't danced so much for pleasure since she could remember. They'd danced to fast songs, and an older line dance that she'd learned in high school, but her favorites were the slow songs, wrapped in his arms, in their own little world. She wondered if they'd go back to the RV tonight, or if he'd stay over at her place. The thought of spending the night with him had her floating.

He was hurting a little when they walked out to the truck, she could tell by the way he held his shoulders. Maybe she shouldn't have let him spin her like he had, but she’d loved the way her skirt had swirled, loved how he’d caught her back against his chest. He was digging his keys out of his front pocket when he was tackled from the side and taken down on the gravel parking lot.

Grace barely had time to scream as she recognized the embroidered shirt. She grabbed at it, pulling back, but she may as well have tried to move a boulder. His fists rained down on Liam so that she couldn't even see him. She screamed again, and kicked the attacker in the hip, putting all her weight behind it. The man howled and turned to glare at her, which gave Liam the upper hand.

Liam flipped the bigger man onto his back and raised his fist, but before he could land a blow, the guy sat up, dislodging Liam and punching him in the jaw. Grace swung her leg back again, ready to kick Liam’s adversary in the gut, but two other guys rushed forward and grabbed Liam by the arms, pulling him up and off his attacker.

At first, Grace thought they were security guards, and all she had to do was explain, but they didn’t release Liam right away, instead holding his arms back as the first cowboy came at him. The snick of a switchblade registered just as the bigger man drew back his fist. Grace saw the glint of metal in his hand, and charged, knocking him sideways, then down on the gravel.

“Grace!”

Liam’s shout carried over the sound of her skirt tearing, of skittering gravel, her own grunt of pain as she landed on top of the big man, knocking the breath out of her. Through the haze of pain, she saw the flash of the blade as it arced toward her. It bit into her forearm and sliced toward her wrist. She would have cried out, if she’d had any breath. Instead, her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, but she grabbed at the wrist to hold the knife away from her, in case he decided to take a second swing.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her away. She swirled to fight back, tripping on her skirt, only to realize it was Liam. He shoved her behind him, but all she could think about was the knife. He couldn’t get hurt—he wouldn’t be able to ride tomorrow. She ran forward and jumped on the bigger man’s back, latching her good arm around his throat, throwing him off balance.

This time the hands that pulled her off were not Liam’s, because he was in front of her. Instead, she caught sight of a utility belt, then a law enforcement emblem. She didn’t have time to register what branch before her hands were dragged behind her and cuffed.

***

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Grace drawled from the emergency room examining table, her gaze averted as the physician’s assistant stitched up her arm.

Liam crossed his arms tighter about himself, forcing himself to watch the needle moving in and out of her skin. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her face. Her cheek was scraped from her encounter with the gravel parking lot. Her upper arm had a scrape, too, and her back above her top. She was more beat up than he was. She was going to feel it tomorrow.

“I’m supposed to keep you safe. And here you go flying after the guy like a linebacker.” He’d never forget the sight of her, blonde hair and white skirt flying at the guy, like an avenging angel. But now her white skirt was torn and stained with her blood.

At least he’d gotten her out of the cuffs by explaining very calmly to the nice cops that they’d been jumped. Even that hadn’t gotten them off until he pointed out a surveillance camera and they’d seen for themselves. All the while, Grace’s blood had been dripping down her arm.

She was pretty pale now, but not feeling pain, since they’d numbed her arm and given her a pain killer.

“Not how I expected the night to end.”

“Yeah?” He forced his gaze to hers, forced a smile. Best to distract her, even if he didn’t want to distract himself.

“First date?” the PA asked.

“No,” Grace said, as Liam said, “Yes.”

The PA looked from one to the other, confused.

“Technically, our first date,” Liam said.

“But we have a son together,” Grace elaborated.

“Interesting,” the PA commented, drawing the word out.

“We may be doing things a little backwards,” Liam said.

“My head’s a little swimmy. Can I lay down?” Grace asked.

“Just a couple more stitches,” the PA assured her.

Liam moved to sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her and letting her lean against him.

She sighed and closed her eyes. “I was so scared he was going to stab you,” she murmured. “Wasn’t right, those guys holding you.”

“You were brave as hell.”

“I didn’t even think.”

“You saved me, Grace.” He smoothed her hair back from her injured cheek and looked down at her closed eyes.

“All done. Let me get that bandaged and you can take her home.”

Liam wanted to take her back to the fifth wheel, mainly because he didn’t want to answer any of Teresa’s questions. But she’d be more comfortable in her own bed, in her own clothes. He plucked at her ruined skirt. He’d replace this as soon as he could.

***

“I think it’s funny,” she said as he guided her into the apartment. “I’ve worked in a bar for ten years and this is my first bar fight.”

“I live to serve.” She was almost dead weight. He would have lifted her and carried her to bed, but his shoulder hurt like fire. He should have had the doctors look at it while they were in the ER, but one impending hospital bill was more than enough.

“You do bring a lot of action with you. A car break-in, a knife fight in a parking lot. Maybe I’m bad luck for you.”

He knew it was the drugs talking, but the words hit low. “Maybe I’m the one who’s bad luck for you.”

He got her out of her ruined skirt and blouse, taking a discreet look at the labels so he could replace them, then tucked her into bed. He thought about crawling in with her, but he'd intended to go home tonight, to leave her at the door with a kiss, make her spend the rest of the night thinking about him. Hell, she'd be thinking about him when she woke up in pain, no doubt. But he couldn't leave her alone. She wouldn't be able to pick up Noah with that arm. He had to stay. Only not in here. She needed her rest.

***

Grace shuffled into the living room, feeling like she'd been the football in a particularly rough football game. Everything hurt. Her arm throbbed from the stitches, her back hurt where she'd scraped it, and, well, the quick glance at her reflection in the mirror made her wince. She hated to take pain medicine when she had to take care of Noah, though. Today was Saturday, and Teresa had gone to visit her daughter. But damn, she hurt.

She stumbled to a halt in the doorway to see Liam curled up in Noah's daybed, the little boy snug against his side, Liam's hand tucked around him. God, what she wouldn't give for a camera, because it was the sweetest thing she'd ever seen. She backed away, not wanting to disturb them, but bumped into the door, sending a riot of pain through her arm.

"Mommy?" Noah sat up and looked over his father at her, blinking sleepily.

Before she could grab him up so he wouldn't wake Liam, Liam stirred and turned to look at her, his expression identical to his son's.

"You're awake early." His voice was gruff with sleep.

"Why did you sleep out here?"

"Didn't want to bother you. Was going to go home, but thought you might need help with Noah."

"Liam, you're riding in a few hours. You didn't get a good night's sleep out here."

He made a snuffling sound. "One has nothing to do with the other. What time is it?"

"Almost nine." They'd gotten out of the ER after three.

He sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face. "I need to get back. You still up for coming to see me ride?"

"Of course. You want me there." But maneuvering a stroller with her arm was going to be a challenge. Better than lugging Noah around in her arms, though.

"Doesn't matter. If you don't think—"

She held out a hand to stop him. "I'm going."

"You need help getting dressed?"

Relief rolled through her. "And washing my hair. I think there's still gravel in it."

His eyes flashed, just for a minute, then he reached for the remote and turned on the TV for Noah. "Need to give your mom a hand, buddy. Sit here and watch for a bit, then we'll get you dressed and head out for some breakfast. Deal?"

"Deal," Noah echoed.

Liam kissed the top of his head and swung his legs out of bed.

***

Never in Grace's life had she expected Liam could get naked and in the shower with her and not pin her to the wall, or go down on her, or want her to go down on him. But no, despite his erection, which brushed against her ass every few seconds, sending fireworks sparking through her, he was all business, scrubbing shampoo in her hair with his strong fingers.

Sometimes too strong. "Ouch!" she said as he pulled a strand of hair at her temple...again.

"Sorry. You have a lot of hair."

She did, a lot, and wild if he didn't let her rinse it and get conditioner in it. "Maybe you can help me braid it after?"

He chuckled, his breath hot against her shoulder. "You give me a lot more credit than I deserve. I've never braided hair before."

"Not even on your horse?"

"Not even. Jonah wouldn't stand for it. The other horses might make fun of him."

She laughed as he threaded his fingers through her hair, trying to get the last of the shampoo out. "Where do you keep him? I mean, you don't drag him with you all over the country, do you?"