“WITH A RING on your finger and a baby on the way, don’t you have a curfew?” Cull laughed and tossed the football.
Kace caught it against his chest and frowned. “No, I don’t have a curfew, although I did promise I’d be home before it got too late.” He returned the ball. “If you’d open yourself up to dating you might eventually find someone who’d like you too. Then you’d stop making jokes about marriage and commitment.”
Cull sniffed. “I’m not looking.”
“Is that right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dropping the football to the ground, Cull grabbed his water and downed it.
“It means, I saw it.” Kace swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. “I saw the way you looked at her. Who is she anyway?”
Leaning against the rail to the arena, Cull shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I invited her here to the ranch because she didn’t have a place to stay.”
“You didn’t quite answer the question. By the way, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Tyler saw it too.”
“Don’t do that, man. Just don’t.” Cull shook his head.
“Do what?”
“Because you’re in a happy relationship you think everyone should be in a happy one too. I’m okay with me as I am.” He crushed his bottle and tossed it into the trash bin.
“Oh, you mean you enjoy being a sour puss?” Kace laughed.
“Sour puss? Is that what married men say? By the way, how’s work?”
“Another bar fight break up. This time I saved my phone, but my back wasn’t so lucky.” He stretched his arms above his head.
“Go see the chiropractor.” Cull’s gaze automatically moved to the garage apartment. He hadn’t seen Monica since dinner last night. He’d left the ranch early to take care of some business and came back to do his chores, ignoring the need to go knock on her door to see how she was doing.
“I’ve got to go, bro.” Kace buddy-slapped Cull on the back. “I miss my wife.”
“Fine, run home. I have things I need to do anyway.”
What he was ready for was a nice, long cold shower. He stepped inside the house and inhaled. Something good smelling filled the air. His Ma was probably already preparing dinner and his stomach growled. He couldn’t wait. Although he wasn’t jumping for joy that he was back living at home, it did have its perks. Outside of the satisfaction of his belly being satisfied, he also loved his childhood home. His father had built the house with his own two hands and his Ma had decorated it to accommodate five hellion boys and a daughter who could hold her own against her brothers. That house had suffered some wear and tear over the years, but it was sturdy.
He stepped down the hall following the aroma of Ma’s cooking to stop dead cold in his tracks. Bent over a mop with her behind stuck up high wasn’t his Ma, but the woman who’d occupied his thoughts most of the day. Monica.
Lord have mercy.
For a moment he’d forgotten how to breathe, and he had to force air into his lungs to stay alive.
She was vigorously scrubbing the floor and had no clue she was no longer alone. He opened his mouth to alarm her of his arrival, but snapped it shut and clenched his teeth. All blood drained from his head to his cock as he watched her. Her rounded bottom was encased in a pair of cut-offs and the fringed hem landed on firm, rounded thighs that made his fingers itch to grip. He ran his hungry gaze down the length of her toned legs to her bare feet when his phone vibrated from his back pocket. He ignored it as his blood pressure skyrocketed and a burst of familiar heat burrowed behind his zipper.
He had been lured by the scrumptious smell of something in the oven, but his stomach’s needs were forgotten in the wake of the beauty who seemed to be taking all her frustration out on the floor.
She turned slightly and he could see her tongue rolling in and out of her mouth as if she concentrated fully on her task. Her hair was pulled up into a messy topknot and so messy that tendrils of hair had fallen around her rosy cheeks. His mind wandered down a no-end road wondering if this was what she looked like after making love. A man would be lucky to have the privilege of seeing that expression in bed…
Stop, man. This was nowhere to allow the mind to go.
God, why couldn’t he help himself.
She was breathtaking. Sure, he’d noticed this fact before, but there was something genuinely sexy about her all sweaty and hair a mess.
Cull didn’t have a clue where he should look first because every part of her drew him like a fish to a worm. Tight shorts that lifted on her bottom ever so slightly when she moved. That gorgeous heart-shaped ass that made him salivate. Her legs weren’t too long, but they were toned and would fit perfectly around his hips. He would bet his life that she tasted like the wild honey from the combs they had out back. Or the plump blueberries in the patch by the barn. He’d sit there for hours, plucking and eating the fruit—just as he would sweet Monica, that was if she wasn’t off limits.
She was tiny. A little under weight. No doubt he could wrap his fingers around her waist and touch his fingertips, yet her curves were like a back road. When he moved his eyes upward he noticed the little jiggle to her breasts as she scrubbed joyfully. His palms itched to move forward and hold them, support them, suckle them. Give them the attention he’d been craving for since he’d seen her naked. Hell, since he held her in his arms.
This wasn’t like him. Not at all. Was he aging and losing his mind? Lack of sex was making him susceptible? He’d never had blurred lines between right and wrong, but if this was so wrong, then why did it seem as right as the sun coming up in the morning?
He couldn’t have her. He couldn’t allow his heart to get mixed up in the equation. She had a history, and future, that had no place for a lawman. She was paid to love which probably meant she had no emotions. Wasn’t he accused of having no emotion on more than one occasion?
His phone vibrated from his pocket again.
Pulling it out he read the screen. “How about a movie at my place? M.”
He gulped down air. It was Melissa and ‘movie’ was metaphor for sex. An image of the voluptuous blonde filled his mind just to be pushed away by the visual loveliness ten feet from him—Monica’s wide hips swaying like a pendulum as she continued to mop the floor. That one particular spot had to be clean by now, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the view.
Dropping his phone back into his pocket, he crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance, demanding that his body take a chill because if he wanted sex, he’d have to visit Melissa as he’d done several months ago. It looked like he’d have to go another several months without holding a woman. He chalked up his overactive libido to that simple fact, he hadn’t been laid in too long. Three months equaled three years when it came to his Cade libido. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d yanked his own dick to ease the tension and self-pleasure certainly wasn’t a substitution for making love. Why didn’t he just turn around and walk, no run, to Melissa. After all, she was offering herself up like a delicious buffet and he knew he’d enjoy himself. He always did. So then why wasn’t he moving? His feet were plastered to the floor. If he wasn’t careful Melissa would stop offering since he’d turned her down the last three times. It wasn’t everyday a man found a woman that agreed to his terms—no strings and no bling. Finding someone in a small town who wasn’t looking for forever was a difficult task.
Everyone in Wyoming knew the Cade family. Women tended to enjoy their company, that was until his brothers all got hitched and were eyeball deep in pleasing their wives. He was the lone single Cade brother and he was determined to stay free and easy. However, that didn’t solve his itty-bitty—or rather large—problem of the moment. He looked down at his stretched zipper and sighed. He was misbehaving badly.
It was time to stop staring.
“Monica?”
****
Monica realized cleaning was a very traditional thing and some people might think her ridiculous, but she enjoyed scrubbing, the smell of bleach and taking care of a home. She’d spent most of the day scouring an already nearly spotless home and found it to be relaxing, and energizing. Every scrub here and polish there took her mind off her troubles and boy did she have a lot to clean away.
She also found that she liked to cook.
Searching through a recipe box, she’d found one for lasagna and, although she doubted it would taste as good as Beatrice’s who was an award-winning cook, it did smell amazing as it baked in the oven. She also made a cookie pizza made with fresh fruit, even blueberries picked that morning from the patches. Preparing something delicious was the least she could do for the family who had been so kind to her.
Turning to reach the spot in the corner, she saw a shadow and she jumped. Lifting her chin, she met the beautiful gaze of the man who’d paid her dreams a naughty visit last night. Weakened by his presence, she took a staggered step back, dropped the mop as her foot slipped on a wet spot.
A squeal slipped from her clenched lips as she felt both feet sliding out from underneath her. Flailing her arms frantically, she waited to hit floor, but in the next instant, a pair of strong, comforting arms were holding her as she looked up into that mesmerizing gaze. Cull had saved her from falling and now had her tucked closely against his broad chest. He smiled and her world lit up from the inside out. She felt as if she’d been graced with a gift. Seconds ticked by and neither made a move to peel their bodies away from one another.
“Sorry, I think I dirtied up your nice clean floor,” he said in a husky voice that made her nipples tighten.
My goodness, the man had the nicest, sweetest smile she’d ever laid eyes upon. All she could focus on was the masculine curve of his mouth, plump lips and those dimples that she could bathe in. Her axis tilted slightly, and she wanted to follow that mysterious draw to those amazing lips knowing she’d find joy in kissing him. She heard a soft sigh and realized it had come from her.
But there would be no kissing going on in the Cade kitchen that afternoon and the only heat came from the oven. He mumbled a curse and set her down, but he wasn’t in any hurry to release his hands from her. Did he sense that her knees were weak? Could he hear the pounding of her heart? She stared up at him, stumbling for something to say that wouldn’t be “Kiss me” or “You have the most amazing eyes”.
Knowing that he expected her to say something, anything, she had a hard time moving past the brain fog. Time slowed down to a crawl as she lost herself—truly lost herself. He looked so handsome in a white, dusty Stetson, a T-shirt that was a tad dirty too, but looked soft enough to cuddle in. Moving down the length of his worn jeans with the fist-sized hole below the left pocket, she could see the line of his thick thighs. Lord, he was the dictionary definition for stud.
As she continued to stare dumbly, she imagined what it would be like to know him well enough to drag that shirt right off his body and play with his ripped and sculpted abs. Sure, she’d never seen him naked, but her X-ray thoughts told her she wouldn’t be disappointed in what she’d find. He reminded her of one of those heroes she used to read in comic books.
Whoa! I read comic books?
Working her bottom lip, she hoped more memories would float into her brain, but they didn’t come, as always.
Finally, she broke through the mindless bubble. “You saved me from hitting my head again.”
A chuckle rang from him and before she knew it, she was smiling too. How did he do that? Make her happy. Make her delightfully off kilter.
“What are you doing?” He finally removed his hands from her and she instantly felt a rush of cold.
“I-I was mopping,” she muttered. “You’ve seen a mop before I hope.”
“Yes, I know you were mopping. But why?”
“I’m helping your mother. It’s the least I could do. I find it to be very—”
“Dirty?”
“Relaxing. And I’ve made dinner. I know it’ll be nothing like your mother’s, but I did follow the recipe closely.”
There was that smile again, but this time it packed the punch of a heavy weight boxer, but she remained on her feet. He stepped over to the fridge, opened the door and dipped his head in. Her eyes were hung up on how his Wranglers fit his firm bottom. When he pulled himself out of the fridge she jerked her eyes up and their gazes clashed. The fireworks went off in her pink parts. The man was potent, and she couldn’t get enough.
He popped the lid to the pop can and brought it to his mouth, sipping, but his eyes remained on her.
Clearing her throat, she picked up the mop and busied with rinsing it out in the bucket of water. “So, do you like lasagna?” She hoped he did. Somehow that meant something to her.
“One thing you’ll learn, there isn’t one of us Cades who is particular. You could serve us potted meat and we’d scarf it down.” He winked and it did something to her insides—something that made her want more.
Yet she wasn’t sure if she could take his response as a positive or negative.
Pouring the water down the drain when she turned and swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, she realized he was watching her. She must look a mess. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked at the floor. “I should run and take a shower.” She set the bucket and mop down, then pulled off her bulky yellow cleaning gloves. He was still staring.
“You have a little smudge of dirt.” He swiped one finger down her cheek.
A little gasp slipped from her, much like it would if she experienced the beginning of an orgasm. Her whole body trembled. Nervous, she took a step back, hitting the edge of the counter. “Oops. I-I better get back to the apartment. I have twenty minutes before the timer goes off.” She backed her way to the door.
By the time she’d made it outside, she was sweating profusely and ready to melt into a puddle.
What she didn’t know was that Cull was standing at the window watching her with a smile on his face.