Hometown Cowboy Read online

  He took a step toward the door, the porch’s bright light casting his shadow across the wooden planks.

  The ache for a woman’s soft touch gripped him. He could still feel her body under his hands, petite but toned. Could still feel her lips burning against his. But he really shouldn’t go back in there, because this time he might not be able to stop himself, no matter who walked into the room.

  A dog’s low bark drifted somewhere behind him. He didn’t even have to turn around to figure out who it belonged to. Bogart, Naomi’s German shepherd, came trotting regally up the porch steps. Which meant Naomi wouldn’t be far behind. He should’ve anticipated that, seeing as how her house was right across the driveway. She’d probably been spying.

  “Well, well, well.” Naomi walked into view beneath the porch light, staring up at him like a pissed-off librarian, mouth in a thin line, arms crossed in a stance of unyielding disappointment.

  Yeah, there was no way out of this. Lance sauntered down the steps to meet her.

  “What’re you doing here?” she asked before he could say hello.

  He reached down to pat Bogart’s perked ears. “Came by to check in with Jessa.” The wind picked up, carrying the strong pine scent. He should’ve been cold without his coat on, but the fire Jessa had lit inside him was still going strong.

  “Mmm-hmm. Mmmm-hmmm,” Naomi mocked. “You came to check in.” Her narrowed eyes invited him to a silent interrogation, which he avoided by glancing down at the dog.

  He sucked at lying. “Hey there, Bogart. Out for your nightly stroll?”

  “Don’t try to change the subject.” Naomi’s growl was almost as low as the dog’s. “Seriously. Your hair is sticking up like someone just ran her fingers through it. What happened in there?”

  Actually, he still wasn’t exactly sure, but Naomi wouldn’t let him off that easy. He leaned a shoulder against the front porch column. “I really did come to check in.”

  She raised her brows, admonishing him to continue.

  “But then she saw the damage Ball Buster inflicted earlier, so she wanted to fix me up.” He lifted his shirt to show her the bandage.

  The woman rolled her eyes with a hearty shake of her head. “Fix you up?” she snorted. “So let me guess. You took your shirt off to show her the goods and she threw herself at you.”

  “It was definitely my fault,” he admitted. Things had started out innocently enough. She’d seemed genuinely horrified when she saw the wound. Then he had to go and dare her to kiss him again. He shook his head. “She didn’t throw herself at me.” He’d gone after her. He didn’t know what it was about Jessa, but he seemed to lose what little self-control he had when she was around.

  “Damn it, Lance.” Naomi took a shot at his shoulder.

  At least she didn’t nail him in the ribs. He backed away before she got any ideas. “We just kissed.” Even as the words tumbled out, the argument fell apart. It’d turned into more than a kiss in about two seconds. Two more minutes and he would’ve had her clothes off. He would’ve been buried so deep inside her he might never have found his way out.

  “Jessa doesn’t know how to just kiss,” Naomi informed him, one hand placed on her hip in a sassy way that reminded him of Gracie.

  He might be losing his touch, too. Used to be a kiss was simply a necessary stepping stone to get a woman where he wanted her, but he couldn’t get Jessa out of his head. Hell, he could go for another round of kissing right now. Maybe at his place, so his father wouldn’t interrupt this time…

  “Oh no you don’t.” Naomi shook a finger in his face. “You and Jessa is not happening. So stop thinking about it.”

  He shoved away her finger. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Oh please. Your eyes are all glazed over and you’re practically drooling.” Her glare could’ve incinerated him. “Don’t do this to her, Lance. She’s not like those women who follow you around everywhere.”

  Actually, that had stopped a long time ago. “They’re not there to see me. Not anymore.” There were younger guys. Guys who were happy to take them home for a night.

  Naomi glared up at him, jutting out her right hip slightly, a signal that she was about to change her approach. “Do you want to get married? Have kids? Has that changed for you?”

  “No.” Didn’t have to think about the answer. He’d never wanted that. Any idealistic views he’d had about love had been obliterated the day his mother looked him in the face, then turned her back on him. He didn’t intend to build a life with someone only to watch it fall apart the way it had for his father. The way it had for their family.

  “Jessa does,” Naomi said. “She wants all of that. A commitment. A family. A man to spend the rest of her life with. She believes in that. We might not, but she does.”

  “I know.” People talked about how many times she’d been engaged. He doubted she’d ever gone on “just a date.” She seemed to want something that’d last a lifetime. Everyone in town knew Jessa had that dreamy-eyed view of love. Sometimes he envied that. It wasn’t like her parents had some fairy-tale romance, but she still held on to the hope it could happen. What would that be like? He had no clue what it felt like to believe in something.

  Naomi stepped closer. She was short, but she sure could look intimidating when she wanted to. “She’s been jerked around enough. I can’t be responsible for it happening again.”

  “You? Why would you be responsible?”

  “I’m the one who helped her change her look so she could start winning over donors for the shelter. And I told her to use you as a guinea pig. I told her to try to win you over.”

  That was worth a laugh. “You told her to use me?” Not that he minded…

  But Naomi wasn’t seeing any humor in the situation. “Come on, Lance.” She sighed. “You never even noticed her until she started to dress sexier. Until she wore her contacts. Put on makeup.”

  Maybe not, but he hadn’t had a reason to notice Jessa, either. He didn’t exactly get out much. Besides, it wasn’t the makeup. He couldn’t give a damn about the makeup. That’s not what tempted him to kiss her tonight. That’s not what drove him to keep kissing her until his mind and body were lost in fantasyland. “She wasn’t wearing makeup tonight. And why would you tell her to change her look?” Why did women do that to each other?

  “She wanted to,” Naomi shot back. “And I never thought you’d take advantage of it. I never thought she’d fall for you, of all people.”

  Fall for him. He thought about the way she’d touched him. The way she’d smiled up at him. It all seemed genuine, but… “Maybe she’s not falling for me. Maybe it’s all part of your little plan.”

  “No.” Naomi’s head shook the possibility away. “When she ran over to you today…I knew. She cares about you. And you can’t take advantage of that. It’s not right.”

  He blew out a breath. Wow, women sure knew how to use guilt to trip people up. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of her.” He hadn’t meant for anything to happen between them. Maybe if he hadn’t seen her naked…

  “You and Jessa want two different things. She has a big heart, Lance. And I don’t want her to get hurt again.” That was the final blow. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to kiss her again. Didn’t matter how much she turned him on.

  “I don’t want her to get hurt, either.” She deserved to find what she wanted. He couldn’t stand in the way of that. “I’ll talk to her. Tomorrow. I’ll get things straightened out.”

  But first he had to straighten himself out.

  * * *

  Morning looked different after sharing a hot kiss with Lance Cortez. Jessa opened her eyes. After last night, everything was different. Sunlight flooded the room, streaming lazily in through the large picture window that framed Topaz Mountain. The cliffs appeared to be so close it seemed she could reach out and brush her fingers along their rugged peaks. She stretched out in the creaky bed and let the rays of light warm her face. She’d never dreamed she’d be
so comfortable staying in Luis’s house. The room was so simple—a brass queen bed, an old scratched antique dresser, and a wooden rocking chair in the corner. There were no frills, no pops of color, but somehow the simplicity of it put her at ease. You didn’t need much when you had that view staring you in the face first thing every morning.

  She closed her eyes, letting herself fall back through the hours to last night. A deep vibrato still fluttered her heart. Had Lance really kissed her? Had he really said he wanted her? The images were so soft and hazy, overcast by a thick cloud of desire.

  And yet the memories sizzled through her, an assurance that it was real. It had all happened. The kiss, his strong hands on her body, his tongue against her skin. Her body woke with a start, feeling the sensations again.

  Noise sounded from downstairs—the creaking of the kitchen’s wood floors, running water. Luis must be up.

  A shot of embarrassment jolted her out of bed. She rarely slept past seven and it was almost eight. Quickly, she shed her flannel pajamas and pulled on yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Stopping in the bathroom, she smoothed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. Her eyes looked tired, but happy, too, as though she was still luxuriating in the exhilarating pleasure of being touched and held.

  She’d never been touched and held exactly the way Lance had done it.

  A bounce snuck into her step as she made her way down the narrow wooden staircase. She found Luis in the kitchen.

  “Good morning.” She greeted the older man with a happy wave. She couldn’t help it. Everything felt lighter. It was so freeing not worrying about things with Lance. Not devising a strategy for how to avoid him or overanalyze what last night meant. It had felt so natural and easy. They’d had fun. He’d been good to her. And that was all that mattered. Instead of lying awake agonizing over what might come from it all, she’d slept deeply and restfully. Such a contrast to pretty much every other man she’d ever kissed.

  “Morning.” Luis nodded with a small smile. He had to have known there was more going on than they cared to admit last night, but she knew him well enough to know he’d never bring it up. He was a live and let live type of person.

  Jessa sashayed past him and filled a glass of water. She liked to down eight ounces first thing every morning. “Can I make breakfast?” she asked, after she’d finished the glass. Nothing said Sunday morning like her father’s sweet potato and egg hash.

  “Nah, you don’t have to cook for me, Jessa.” Luis slipped on a heavy flannel coat. “Besides, Sundays we all go up to Lance’s place for breakfast. Me and Naomi and Gracie.”

  “Oh.” Her heart thumped a bit harder. One kiss and she’d been conditioned. She heard the man’s name and instantly her lady parts warmed right up.

  “Better get your coat,” Luis added. “Cold out this morning. The dew’s as thick as icing out there.”

  “Um.” She sneaked a quick glance at herself in the microwave’s spotted glass. So yeah. She definitely wasn’t looking her best. She hadn’t showered, hadn’t even officially gotten dressed.

  She reached up and patted the straggler hairs into place. “You know, I can stay here. I’m sure he doesn’t need one more person to feed.”

  “Unless I miss my guess, he’ll want you there.” Luis looked her over, those kind eyes crinkled and wise. And…omniscient. That was the word. Though they were watered down with age, Luis’s eyes were so focused and intent they seemed to see everything. “He’ll be glad to see you. Trust me. I know my son.”

  Would he? The thought baited a smile. Would he be as happy to see her as she would be to see him? Already her heart was twirling like she had when her mother would dress her in a frilly skirt.

  “Let’s get a move on. Luis waved her over to the front door. “We don’t want the grub to get cold.”

  Her hesitation melted away. Luis knew his son. And things didn’t have to be awkward. They’d kissed, that’s all. Okay, made out. But only for about three minutes. He’d probably made out with a lot of women for much longer than that.

  She pulled her coat off the rack and slipped it on, then bent to jam her feet into her shoes. “Should we bring anything?” She’d seen some fruit lying around. She could cut it up and make a salad…

  “Nah. Lance cooks for everyone on Sundays.” He held open the door for her. “Not sure where he learned. I never could do much in the kitchen.”

  She paused on her way out to the porch, nerves boiling with the anticipation of seeing him. “You’re sure he won’t mind if I come?”

  Luis looked at her, his face serious and sincere. “You’re practically part of the family. I always promised your dad we’d watch out for you if anything ever happened to him. He’d want you to be part of our family.”

  Unexpected tears pricked at her eyes. Luis had said things like that before, but she’d never felt it hit so close to her heart. In a way, she did feel like she fit. She’d agreed to stay only to do Lance a favor, but truthfully she loved it at the ranch—the surrounding peaks, the old creaking floors, the acres of open space surrounding them. The people. “Thank you.” She squeezed his shoulder and followed him down the steps to the driveway.

  It was chilly, but beautiful, too. The early morning sunlight gleamed so bright it almost hurt to look. Thick morning dew made the ground sparkle. They crunched over the dirt in a sort of awed silence, taking in the pure air, the warm sun, the shimmering blue sky. The closer they got to Lance’s house, the more her insides warmed, the more her heart beat with eagerness. Even though she couldn’t wait to see him again, it wasn’t because she wanted something out of him. For once in her life, she had no expectations. She simply wanted to be around him. To know him better. To see him smile like he had last night.

  The thought made her smile as she followed Luis up the porch steps.

  She’d heard Lance had built his own house a few years ago, and it was gorgeous, all log and stone. A wraparound porch wound around the entire thing, making it cozy and welcoming. She passed a wicker swing, which looked like the perfect spot to sit out with a glass of wine on a cool autumn night…

  “Here we go.” Luis opened the front door, not bothering to knock.

  The inside of Lance’s house was as impressive as the outside. Jessa crept across the slate-tiled entryway, trying to take in everything at once. The comforting smell of black coffee, the warm tones on the walls, the framed scenes she recognized from around the ranch. The main floor was a completely open concept, a living room with leather furniture clustered near a large stone fireplace on one wall. Beyond that, the space opened into the masculine gourmet kitchen with dark wood cabinets and grayish concrete countertops.

  A large dining table sat in front of a beautiful bay window, and it was already laden with dishes and food—some sort of decadent-looking coffee cake, a pan of eggs, a plate of crisp bacon.

  God, it smelled heavenly.

  A set of French doors near the kitchen busted open. Gracie came skipping through, followed by Naomi and Lance.

  Oh, Lance. A faint humming purred inside her. If it was possible he looked even better than he had last night. Fitted faded Levi’s and an unbuttoned flannel with a tattered henley underneath.

  Heat flashed the way it had when he’d first pressed his lips into hers.

  “We saw some deers!” Gracie cried, skipping over. “A mama and two little ones.”

  “Wow.” Jessa knelt down to her level and folded her into a hug. “I’d love to see them,” she said, as though she didn’t see deer walking down the street every day in Topaz Falls.

  Naomi ruffled her daughter’s red curls. “You could’ve seen them if this little princess hadn’t scared them away.”

  “I was trying to be quiet but they were so cute.” Gracie grinned up at her, those jewel-like eyes shining. “One of the babies got this close!” She held her hands about six inches apart while her mother laughed.

  Jessa laughed, too. The little girl had some mad skills in the art of exaggeration.

&
nbsp; As soon as the laughter faded, an awkward silence settled. Awkward because Lance still stood by the doors, his arms crossed, staring at her.

  “Come on, sweet girl,” Naomi said, steering her daughter away. “Let’s get those grubby hands washed up before breakfast.”

  As she passed, Naomi gave Jessa a small smile. A tad sympathetic?

  Unease spread through her, taming the elation she’d felt since she’d woken up. Why was Naomi looking at her as if she felt sorry for her?

  “Grub ready yet?” Luis asked his son, heading for the table without waiting for an answer. “I’m starvin’.”

  “Uh. Yeah.” Lance seemed to shake himself out of whatever held him in a trance. “Just about. You can have a seat if you want.”

  Luis didn’t have to be told twice. He crossed to the far end of the room and sat himself at the head of the dining table.

  Lance approached Jessa, but he didn’t look at her. Not really. His eyes shifted. “You came.” The words weren’t happy. They weren’t even welcoming. And for someone who’d been so adamant about kissing her last night, he sure was keeping a chilly distance intact.

  “Um, yeah.” She tried to make eye contact with him, but he looked away. “Luis insisted. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” He seemed to shrug it off like he didn’t care either way before he left her standing there and went to the coffeepot in the kitchen.

  Gracie skipped back into the great room. “Papa!” Since Naomi’s parents had moved to Florida a few years ago, Luis was the closest thing Gracie had to a local grandpa.

  He rose from his chair and lifted her into the air while she squealed. Then he set her down in the chair next to his, and their heads bent together as she chattered about the deer.

  Jessa watched Lance move stonily in the kitchen, her feet rooted to the floor. Suddenly she felt like she shouldn’t be there. Like she didn’t belong after all.

  Naomi came to stand by her. A little too close. “So how was your night?” she whispered.