Two to Wrangle (8 page)

T
he second time they rode out, instead of doubling with Ty, Monica rode her own horse down to the river—a sleepy-eyed, swaybacked bay gelding named Cooper. He was certainly gentle enough for her, but he had a propensity to stop and graze whenever the fancy came over him. Once he even tried to lie down, likely to nap, but Monica's shriek as his knees buckled startled him back to a wakeful trot—a jarring pace that made her ass bounce in the saddle. Her thighs were already screaming in agony, as if she'd done a marathon session on a Thighmaster, but she was hard pressed to say who was most to blame for that, the horse or Ty.

They rode in almost complete silence, but it was far from unpleasant. It was the kind of stillness borne of a calm heart and a peaceful mind. After last night Monica felt a little of both, more in harmony with the world than she could recall for a very long time. She and Ty had begun to connect on a level she hadn't anticipated. It was a lot like the breakthrough that Ty had spoken of in regard to training horses—something that happens when you least expect it.

Ty continued to surprise her in so many ways. He was tough but also tender, commanding but considerate. In bed, he'd always been passionate, but last night he'd also shown patience and understanding. Ty was almost an antithesis to her ex-fiancé Evan, and everything she never knew she wanted in a man. But her wants and needs seemed to have taken such an unexpected course.

She didn't know what had prompted her decision yesterday, unless it was all just a subconscious sabotage of her plans to return to New York. She knew she
should
go back, but in that brief silence between her own heartbeats she could almost hear Tom's voice saying “Stay.”

She glanced up from her horse to watch Ty, sitting broad-backed and tall in the saddle. Just watching him ride made her ache in two places at once. He turned his head and smiled as if reading her thoughts, and then pulled up his horse. They'd taken a slightly different route this time, a short ride that bypassed the river and took them straight to the hill and the lone oak tree. Ty dismounted from his horse and reached up to help her down from hers.

He grimaced at her moan as she slid from the saddle. “That bad, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “If I never mount another horse it'll be too soon.”

“I can fix you right up, sugar. Half hour in the Jacuzzi tub in the hotel owner's suite followed by a deep-muscle massage will have you right as rain again.”

“I don't know if I'll ever be right again. Just for the record, in case you're getting any ideas about that
deep
massage, Monicaland is closed until further notice.”

Ty returned a cocky grin. “We'll just see 'bout that.” He turned back to his horse and unbuckled his saddlebags to remove Tom's boots. Just as he'd said he would, Ty was determined to lay Tom to rest in them, but rather than scattering the ashes as she'd expected, he placed the boots against the tree.

“If I shut my eyes I can still imagine him propped against that oak, dozing with his hat slung down over his face.” He surprised her by doffing his own hat and laying it on top of the boots.

Suddenly she could see it too. She watched as he stood there, eyes shut and head bowed, his lips moving in a silent prayer. Tears fogged her vision at the realization that this was it, the final goodbye.

When he finished, Ty came to stand behind her, with his big strong hands resting on her shoulders. “You take all the time you need, sugar.” He murmured in her ear.

There was that kindness and compassion again. She closed her eyes, leaning into the hard wall of muscle that supported her back. The hands on her shoulders tightened ever so slightly as she slowly inhaled a lungful of air scented with grass and just a hint of river mud. Her throat went painfully thick as she released it to whisper a last goodbye.

Thirty minutes after returning to the ranch, Ty drove up to the front porch, where Monica stood, packed bags in hand. She regarded the golf cart with mock seriousness. “Do you really think that thing will stay charged all the way to Vegas? Where's your truck, Ty?”

“Leaving it here. With less than six days left, I'm not wasting sixteen hours of it driving,” he replied.

“So we're flying?”

“Yup.”

“I know Tom had a private plane. Did you hire a pilot?”

“Nope. Don't have to. I'll fly us.”

“You?” She gaped.

“Yup. Tom taught me. Got my license when I was seventeen. Been a while, but I should still be able to take it up and put it back down in one piece,” he added with a teasing grin. “Kinda like ridin' a horse that way. You don't forget.” He patted the seat beside him. “C'mon. Time's a wastin'.”

Monica still hesitated. “That information didn't inspire a whole lot of confidence, Ty.”

“Would it make you feel any better to know I flew us to Colorado every year when Tom and I went elk hunting?”

“So it hasn't been
years
since you've commanded the cockpit?”

“No, sugar.” He laughed. “Six months at most. Feel better now?”

She exhaled an exasperated puff of air. “Why do you always do that?”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Withhold vital information. You can't do that anymore if you expect us to be partners.”

He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her snug against his side. “I'll try and work on that.”

 

A gleaming black stretch limo waited at the curb a few hours later when they landed the Beechcraft Bonanza at Henderson Executive Airport. Ty eyed the car with a frown. “I'm not used to all this conspicuousness, Monica. I'm a pick-up kinda man.”

“But you left your truck in Oklahoma. It only made sense to call Frankie. And besides, it's not like we can't afford it, Ty,” Monica threw the reply over her shoulder as she ducked into the car.

“Seems like such a waste,” Ty remarked once they were inside. “There's only one real good use for a car like this.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “And what's that?”

One side of his mouth curved upward as he tipped his head to the divider. “Ask Frankie to put that up and I'll show you.”

She spoke the instructions to the driver, and then arched a brow. “Is this more of your seven-day persuasion campaign?”

“Depends,” he replied. “Does making you swallow back a scream count as persuasion?”

His words awakened ripples of desire deep in her belly.

“That's a mighty tall order, cowboy, but I'm not sure a scream is what I really want to swallow.” She let her gaze drift to his lap.

“If that's what you really want, sugar, I'm more than happy to fill that order.” He pulled her roughly onto his lap. “But I was raised that ladies always come first.” While one hand cupped the back of her neck for a hungry kiss, the other slid up her leg. He slipped his long fingers into her panties as his hot mouth swept up the length of her neck. He stroked and caressed her mound while murmuring dark and dirty words that sent pools of liquid heat between her thighs.

Ty's trashy talk never failed to turn her on.

He licked and tongued her ear, then continued nuzzling and nipping as he worked his way back down her throat, pausing for a soft bite at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. One hand unbuttoned her blouse, freeing a breast.

Wary of the driver, she suppressed a moan as he took her nipple into his mouth in a feasting frenzy. In seconds Ty's sucking mouth had Monica shuddering with the first tremors of impending orgasm. She reached for him. His hips went into motion as she rubbed him though his jeans. “Ride me now, sugar.”

Her need at fever pitch, she tore off her panties as he freed himself. He took her face in both hands, kissing her hungrily while she straddled his hips. He continued long, lush kisses as she lowered herself slowly onto his erection. Holding herself back, she slowly swiveled and teased, watching the flare of desire in his eyes until he released her face to grip her hips, driving them all the way down.

They sucked in a synchronous gasp at that euphoric moment of penetration.

Panting with the need to move but wanting to draw out the exquisite torture, she squeezed her inner muscles.

He let loose a deep moan that vibrated her insides. He thrust, driving upward. Deep.

“Oh. God,” she moaned. Digging her fingers deep into his muscular shoulders, she met his next thrust in counterpoint.
So big and hard.
He gave another thrust.
Freaking fantastic.
Her head rolled back in ecstasy
. And mine. He's all mine.
Her last thought froze her.

Was she taking that part for granted? Ty was long accustomed to playing fast and loose. Although he'd told her there hadn't been other women and that there was no one else he wanted, how long would that last? Would their relationship end the moment he got the money he needed to rebuild the hotel?

She shook the hair from her face and tipped her head back to stare into his. “What are we doing, Ty?”

His mouth curved into an irresistible smirk. “Humping in a limousine like horny prom dates.”

“Well, yeah,” she chuckled. “But that's not all, Ty. This thing between us is all screwed up. We're
business
partners, remember? This trip was supposed to be about our partnership in Brandt Morgan, and here we are again.”

“Because you can't keep your hands off me, but I got no problem with that.” He slid his hands to her ass. “Don't stop now. We're just getting to the good part.”

“Is this all we're going to do for the next week—screw each other senseless?”

The smirk stretched wider. “Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me.”

“I'm serious, Ty. We need to set some ground rules here.”

“You need ground rules? I just need grinding. Quit talkin' now, sugar. You're gonna ruin the mood.”

“Please,” she persisted. “We really need to talk about this. We need some parameters for this to work.”

“Fuck it, Monica,” Ty dropped his head onto the leather seatback with a groan. “There's a time and place for talkin'. And this ain't it.”

“What did you bring me here for?” she demanded.

“You wanted to know why the hotel is so important to me. I intend to show you, but if we want to spend the rest of our time screwing each other's brains out, I have no problem with that.” He brought his hands up to her shoulders. “Do you, Ms. Brandt?

She stared back at him with brows furrowed, her mind and emotions raging. Her powerful physical reaction to Ty scared the hell out of her, and her emotions even more, but did she really want to risk pushing him away just to get things back on an even keel? Her brain said yes, but her body and heart both screamed no.

“All right, Ty,” she replied slowly. “Suppose I decide to stay here after this week. What happens then? Do I get an apartment somewhere? Do I take over the owner's suite?”

“I s'pose that all depends on how much space you need,” he answered carefully.

“Maybe the better question is how much
space
do you need?”

“Shit, Monica. I'm eight inches inside you right now. I'm not looking for space. Is that what's really eatin' you?” he asked. “If that's all you're fretting about, we can share the owner's suite. Hell, we can even share my place.”

“Your place?” she asked warily. “Are you sure about that?” His words filled her with a bittersweet memory of the night he'd offered to show her the sunrise over Red Rock Canyon from his bedroom terrace. It had been their best night together and the last before the ugly breakup that had followed only hours later.

“I'm sure that I'd like nothing better than to wake up every morning buried deep inside you.”

She let loose a snort. “I'm not getting this, Ty. You just told me less than a week ago that you don't ‘do' relationships? You made your feelings on the subject perfectly clear. Do you expect me to believe that in less than a week you've had a total change of heart?”

“It's been much longer than a week,” he confessed, adding with a self-deprecating laugh. “But sometimes I'm a real bullheaded sonofabitch. I admit I have a piss-poor track record for anything long-term, but that doesn't mean I don't want to try. If you don't feel the same way about trying, why did you come out here with me?”

“Because I felt I owed it to Tom,” she said. “He believed in you enough to put you in the CEO chair. I thought maybe I should try to understand why.”

“And that's all? Because you felt you owed Tom? Sounds mighty flimsy to me.”