The Cowboy's Secret (Cowboys After Dark: Book 3) (8 page)

Thirty minutes would be plenty of time to have a serious chat and deliver a sound spanking to the feisty young woman before Amelia arrived at 2 p.m.

Leaning back in his chair he smiled as he thought about the sneaky way Amelia had paid for dinner. It was charming and naughty and delightful, and he ached to give her beautiful bottom a sensuous spanking for her trouble.

I would tease you ’til you’d be begging to come, and then spank you some more with my cock buried in your gorgeous pussy. Oh, I know you have a gorgeous pussy, I just know it.

His momentary lapse sent him urgently from his office to his bedroom, and stripping quickly he massaged himself to a powerful, teeth clenching climax, then drifted off to sleep, the image of her face being kissed by the moon’s sliver light the last thing on his mind.

A
fter unpacking some boxes, making phone calls to local tradesmen, and driving to her new home to make more notes about the changes she wanted to make to the interior of the house, she drove to Tom’s Tavern for some lunch.

As she settled into the same table by the window, Tom himself wandered across to take her order. The restaurant side was busy during that hour, but not the bar, and the waitresses didn’t start until 5 p.m.

“Hi there,” he smiled, “good to see you again. This is your first stop in here for lunch isn’t it?”

“It is, and I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.

“We haven’t been officially introduced, the name’s Tom Hanson.”

“I know,” she nodded, “and I’m Amelia Anderson. I just moved to the neighborhood and I’m so glad I found this place.”

“Glad to have you. I’ve seen you sittin’ with Clint Hogan every night. He a friend of yours?” Tom asked casually.

“No, I just met him about a week ago,” she replied.

“Huh,” he commented.
That’s a first. Never seen him eat with a lady, let alone every night.

“Why?” she asked.

“Oh, no reason, just bein’ neighborly,” he nodded. “I’ve got a great ham, cheese and tomato grilled sandwich today, served with a crunchy iceberg salad and fries.”

“I had your fries last night,” she laughed. “I loved them, but I’d better not have them again so soon, you’ll have to roll me out of here. The sandwich and salad sounds great though, and coffee.”

“Comin’ right up,” he smiled.

As she watched him disappear through the swinging doors, she was sure he’d been fishing.

Clint has been coming here for, how long did he say he’d lived here? Two years, and it seems that guy knows nothing about him. Weird.

Staring out the window she saw the clouds gathering, and hoped the weather would hold long enough for her to ride. Her mind wandered to the various tradesmen she’d spoken with that morning. Having renovated many houses she knew the right questions to ask, and what the answers should be; none of them had impressed her.

Thank goodness Clint has offered to introduce me to the fencing guy. I’ll have that under control at least.

Tom returned with her sandwich, and mouth watering, she smiled as she studied it. The sourdough bread had been grilled, leaving dark stripes on both sides, and had been dusted with a variety of spices.

“Wow, that’s one heck of a sandwich,” she declared.

“I use Gouda cheese and heirloom tomatoes. Hard to get those tomatoes this time of year, but it’s worth the effort. I sprinkle them with some balsamic,” he said proudly. “Hope you like it.”

“Oh, my gosh, Tom, this place is a like a gourmet restaurant,” she said. “No wonder you do so well.”

“I love to cook,” he nodded. “I guess I shoulda been a chef, but that’s a whole other business. Too complicated for a simple soul like me.”

“Can I ask you something?” she began,
if you can fish, so can I.

“Sure thing.”

“Do you happen to know where Clint Hogan originally came from? I’m sure I know him from somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve wanted to ask him but I didn’t want him to think I was being nosey.”

At the word ‘nosey,’ her salacious fantasy flashed into her mind, and she felt a small churning in her stomach.

“Honestly, Amelia, I have no idea,” he answered as he dropped into a chair opposite her. “He’s kept his history to himself, and I’m not talkin’ outta turn here. Press him and he’ll be the first to tell you,
where I’ve been and what I’ve done stays where I left it
.”

“Really? How interesting,” Amelia remarked.

“The sheriff checked him out, he’s got nothin’ criminal chasin’ him, and he’s a good, honest guy. I’m not sayin’ anything he wouldn’t tell you himself. He’s just a bit of a mystery.”

“I guess so,” she nodded.

“Enjoy your lunch,” he smiled, standing up, “and I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

Biting into the warm sandwich she rolled her eyes in pleasure, and when Tom returned with her coffee she grinned up at him.

“This is the best sandwich I think I’ve ever had, and I’m being serious.”

“Thank you,” he beamed. “I sure appreciate you sayin’ so.”

As she ate her meal and drank her coffee, the conversation with Tom stayed with her. Clint really was a man of mystery, and the voices in her head began in earnest.

No-one can keep secrets today, not in this world.

Apparently Clint Hogan can.

She finished her lunch and glanced at her watch; she still had thirty-five minutes to kill.

Hmmm, I wonder what I’d find if I showed up to the ranch this early.

Probably nothing.

You’re probably right, still, you never know.

It’s rude to be early, just as much as it’s rude to be late.

I won’t be any bother. I’ll go straight to Jiminy.

This isn’t a good idea.

I know, but I’m still going to do it.

Leaving a generous tip on the table she waved to Tom as she headed out, and as she settled behind the wheel of her car she felt her pulse accelerating.

You’re sure you want to do this?

No, but I can’t help myself.

You’re hoping to see something.

Well, duh, of course.

Careful what you wish for!

Taking a deep breath she drove out of the parking lot, and in five minutes the familiar white fencing came into view. Slowing down and scanning the area she saw two men riding away from the paddocks; she assumed it was Mitch and Zane, though they were too far away for her to be sure. Pulling into the driveway she moved slowly forward, taking the lane that led to the barn, ignoring the one that would have taken up her the knoll to the house.

She parked near the barn, and as she stepped from her car and wandered towards Jiminy’s corral, she was surprised to see a large horse trailer parked behind the round pen. The back doors were open, the inside had been swept clean, but there was no-one to be found. Jiminy Cricket, hearing the arrival of his new best friend lifted his head and nickered at her.

“You sweet thing,” she murmured walking over to him. “You want a peppermint, don’t you?”

Fishing her in pocket she pulled out the pink striped candy and held it out for him, smiling as she watched him happily gobble it up.

“I guess I’ll take you out and start getting you ready,” she remarked, but the sound of a car caught her attention, and looking back to the driveway she saw a black Mercedes sedan heading up the knoll towards Clint’s house. Eyes peeled she watched as it passed his home, stopping at the guest house, and when she saw Clint step out to greet his visitors she caught her breath.

Huh, maybe coming early was a good idea after all.

Or a bad one!

She watched an older man and a young woman climb from the car; the man shook Clint’s hand, they talked for a minute, then the man climbed back inside the car and drove away. Filled with a hot curiosity she saw Clint take the young woman by her upper arm and lead her inside. Amelia’s eyes fixated on the closed door, and she felt her heart hammer as she thought about creeping up to the rear of the guest house.

Don’t be an idiot.

There’s no-one around. It’ll only take a minute.

You’re out of your mind.

Ignoring her warning voice she darted into the barn to make sure it was empty. Checking the tack and feed rooms she found not a soul, and hurriedly returning to the corral she walked past it to the far side so she could hike up the back of the gentle slope. To her delight she found a path was already in place, and heart pounding she walked forward, finding the climb an easy one, but when she reached the top she paused.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Neither can I. Please turn around.

For a moment she considered the option, but the temptation was too great. Walking cautiously forward she headed to a window, but to her great disappointment the curtains were closed and there was no possibility of peeking. Moving around to the side of the house she discovered the same was true of those windows as well. Frustrated she turned to leave, but to her horror she banged into a brick wall, the brick wall being a strapping cowboy blocking her path.

Gasping and stumbling backward, she stared in shock at the piercing blue eyes that glowered back at her from under a black cowboy hat. The man wasn’t tall, but his chest and arms were powerfully built, his muscles easily discernible through his thick, plaid shirt, and before she had a chance to speak he clutched her elbow.

“I-uh-I came to, uh, ride Jiminy,” she stammered.

“Not interested,” he gruffly replied marching her away from the house.

“Where are you t-taking me?”

Ignoring her question he started down the track back to the barn, and try as she might to wrench her arm free it was impossible, his fingers had her in a vice.

“P-please,” she begged as they reached the bottom. “Let me explain.”

“Any explainin’ you can save for the boss,” he growled leading her into the barn.

“Dammit, let me go,” she demanded, hoping an offensive attitude might prove more effective than the woeful one. “Clint knows me, he was expecting me.”

Reaching the tack room he opened the door, led her inside and released her, but before she had a chance to speak, or even attempt to run past him into the barn, he swiftly turned and closed the door. As she listened to him turn the key in the lock she clenched her fists and stamped her foot.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” she shouted, and grabbing the door handle she rattled it furiously, but found it well and truly locked. “Shit! I can’t believe this. I’m such an idiot.”

Looking around she realized the only place to sit was on top of one of the tack trunks, so finding a thick saddle pad she put it in place and dropped down.

I don’t know how you’re going to talk your way out of this one.

There’s nothing I can say. I’ll simply tell the truth. My curiosity got the better of me. That’s it.

Better make sure you sound like you regret it.

That will be easy, I do, big time.

Leaning back against the wall she closed her eyes and sighed.

“I am such an idiot,” she repeated softly. “I swear, there’s something seriously wrong with me.”

C
lint had been watching for old man Tate and his daughter when he’d spied Amelia’s car driving down to the barn; she was early, very early, and grabbing his phone he’d hastily called Sam.

“A woman is here to ride Jiminy. She’s arrived way ahead of time and I’m in The Woodshed,” he’d said urgently.

“I’m out in the back pasture. I’ll get there as fast as I can,” Sam had promised.

“If she stays down at the barn with Jiminy that’s fine, just stop her if she starts up to the house.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam assured him. “I’m on my way.”

A few minutes later the black Mercedes had pulled up to the door, and as Clint had stepped on to the porch he’d glanced down; Amelia was standing by Jiminy’s corral, staring up and watching. Silently grimacing he’d turned his attention back to the matter at hand; the pouty teenager had left the car and her eyes were glowering at him.

“Come back in about twenty minutes,” Clint had told her father, “and Anastasia, you and I are gonna have a little chat. See if we can work out your problems. You got your phone in that bag?”

“What’s it to you?” she spat.

“It’s in there, I made sure of it,” her father replied as he’d climbed back into his car.

Clint had taken the girl by the elbow and walked her inside, locking the door behind them. He’d already decided on his ‘Shock And Sore’ introduction, a quick, sharp visit with his crop to get her attention, then ten minutes in the corner to consider her predicament.

Marching her straight to the buffet, knowing the sight of his many implements would be intimidating, he grabbed the crop of his choice.

“I’ve heard all about you, and you don’t scare me,” she snapped, trying to wrestle away from his grasp.

“I’m not interested in scarin’ you, but you will listen, and you will lose that attitude,” he said calmly, and lifting the crop he delivered three harsh swats across the middle of her backside, then immediately released her.

She squealed loudly as she grabbed her bottom, then stared up at him in stunned alarm.

“Take yourself into that corner over there, and put your hands behind your head,” he growled. “You’ve got three-seconds to do it, and if you’re not there you’ll get three more stripes. Test me and your ass will be sorry.”

Every defiant bone in her body screamed at her to rebel, to curse at him, to throw a massive tantrum, but the steely glint in his eyes and the burn in her bottom made her pause.

“One, two-”

“Okay, I’m going,” she cried, and hands still clutching her stinging seat she moved quickly to the corner to which he had pointed.

“Hands behind your head,” he reminded her.

Lifting her hands off her backside she placed them behind her neck, and though she was wriggling, she didn’t say anything or look back at him.

Excellent start,
he thought.
This might be easier than I anticipated.

“You think about why your ass is on fire, you think about what a brat you are, how rude you are to the parents who have done nothin’ but love you. Think about all the crap you’ve pulled, and in a little while we’re gonna have a conversation.”