CHAPTER THREE

 

Weston cranked up the country music song and thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune, feeling the music. Rolling down the window, the breeze flowed through until he stopped at the last light heading out of town. He threw up a hand to several townsfolk sitting on a bench and they waved in return. A sweet smell wafted from the corner bakery and he had a hankering for one of the lemon rolls. Brie loved the caramel apples coated in peanut butter chips. The light turned green and he made a left, pulling onto the street in front of the shop.

Inside, he greeted the owner, Lanie Mill. “Hello, beautiful. Have any of those sweet lemon rolls and caramel apples left?”

“You betcha, handsome.” The silver haired woman smiled ear to ear, even blushed a little. “Where have you been? Haven’t seen you around much these days.”

“Busy, busy, darlin’.” He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, withdrew a twenty and dropped it on the counter as Lanie handed over a white box.

“I put you a variety in there, Wes.” She winked.

“You’re going to fatten me up.” He rubbed his stomach.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. Let me grab your change.”

“Keep it.”

“You tell Urban I have those brownies he loves.”

“Sure thing.” He dipped his hat and strolled back onto the sidewalk.

“I hear Hugh is running for sheriff, Wes,” the owner of the clock shop said from the doorway.

Weston waved. “You’ll back him, won’t you?”

“He’s got my vote.” The man gave a thumbs up.

Climbing back into his truck with the box situated in the middle of the seat, he started toward the road that would lead him home.

His mind wandered. He’d called and left a message for Sammie yesterday, but he doubted she’d call him back. Hell, there was a possibility she would completely ignore it. Still, even now, he had no clue why she left town. And him. It wasn’t as if they’d been in a long-term relationship, but they’d certainly shared some memorable things over at the lake. His mind wandered back to that sizzling summer night they’d shared on the water that had changed his life forever. He’d told her he loved her and she returned the gesture. They’d both wanted marriage, kids, a loyal partner. Or so he thought.

He’d been a miserable fool.

After she’d left, he’d been angry. Spending too much time at the bar getting drunk, and that was when he swore he’d get Sammie out of his head and heart no matter what it took. Ashley had him locked, cocked, and exploding all in the matter of seconds. She’d been a man’s dream with her flirtatious personality and beautiful looks, knowing full well how lethal she could be. They’d dated for a little over six months and he liked that she didn’t mind that he rode bulls and worked all the time, and she never became jealous over buckle bunnies who wanted his autograph on their tits or ass. When Ashley ended up pregnant, he never thought to ask if the baby was his, although they’d used a condom every single time and she’d told him she was on the pill.

Taking off his Stetson, he tossed it on the passenger seat and swiped the back of his hand over his forehead. His temperature went up every time he thought back to those days when life was easier—simpler. He didn’t mind life now. Things were exactly as he wanted them. He had bigger fish to fry than worrying about days of the past.

Ashley had called him last week and he was shocked down to his dusty boots to hear her voice on the other end. Hearing from her after so long seemed surreal…sickening. He’d cared for her once upon a time, although he knew their relationship had been a rebound from Sammie, but he’d had every intention of offering the mother of his child a home and a permanent place in his life, until she’d decided she wasn’t made to be a rancher’s girl, or a mother for that matter.

Now, he could see his relationship with Brie’s mother for what it was. She had been a peach, and boy was she sweet, often using her ‘assets’ to get what she wanted. Beautiful and seductive, she had the ability to turn every man’s head. She also had a deceitful side, even going off birth control and poking holes in the condoms she kept in her nightstand to get pregnant to keep Weston. During an argument, after she’d told him about the baby, she’d blurted out her manipulative actions, but it was too late because the deed was done.

A person had to be careful what they wished for because sometimes they got it. Ashley had wanted something badly, but once she had it in her grip, she hated the cage it created. She didn’t like being pregnant, often complaining about getting “fat” and feeling miserable. Hell, she didn’t like him much during that time either. She always said she wanted a man who worshipped the ground she walked on and threw it up in Weston’s face that he still loved Sammie. He’d tried to love Ashley, but the most he could give her was respect, the things she needed, and a promise to be there for her and the baby.

Several times during the pregnancy she’d threatened him with giving their baby up for adoption and when he told her she couldn’t do such a thing without his signature, she warned him that she’d lie and say she didn’t know who the father was. Thankfully, she didn’t follow through and gave birth to his little girl.

Soon after Brie was born, she left Colton to pursue a career in acting and he figured he wouldn’t hear from her again. Hoped he wouldn’t for his sake, but not for his daughter’s. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Ashley to say when he’d heard her voice on the other end of the phone. Maybe that she was married? Which she was. Pregnant again? He didn’t think she wanted more kids. That she’d heard how Second Chances Securities was growing and thought she deserved some of the action. Or had a terminal illness.

But none of those reasons were hers for contacting him after so long.

She wanted to reconnect with Brie, the child she’d contemplated on giving up for adoption. The child she left when Brie was a baby, leaving a fearful Weston to care for her alone, having no clue what babies needed.

Finding out he was going to be a father had thrown him for a loop, but he’d been happy. He had just turned thirty-one, old enough to leave his bachelor ways behind him and consider his future, but it hadn’t been Ashley he’d wanted to give up everything for. Unfortunately, sometimes fate gave a man what he needed and not always what he wanted.

Wanting to do right, he’d invited Ashley to come live with him on his family’s ranch and she had agreed, but she’d never been satisfied.

And now, she wanted to pop back into his daughter’s life as if only a few months had passed.

Up ahead through the blur of the sun’s rays reflecting off the road, he caught a slender silhouette. It wasn’t until he got much closer that he saw it was a woman. Who the hell would be walking in one hundred-degree temperature? She wore a baseball cap pulled low and long, shiny hair flowed in waves down her shoulders. His gaze naturally sought out the slight bounce of her full breasts underneath the white tank top. Although he wasn’t close enough to see the outline of her nipples, he had a good idea they would be pressed against the thin material.

Did he know her? The wide sunglasses covered half her face, but there was something familiar in the way she walked, her body...

The beauty started waving her hands to get him to stop, and as any good Samaritan would, he pulled to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “You need some help, ma’am?” he asked.

Her arms dropped to her sides and one corner of her mouth twisted. “Oh great! Just what I needed.”

What the hell? She’d flagged him down and now she came off with an attitude.

She dragged off her cap and then her sunglasses, showing off pale blue eyes surrounded by smudged mascara and long, thick lashes. Her surprised gaze met his and he almost swallowed his tongue.

His heart beat slammed against his ribs and it took him a good three seconds to regain his composure. Grabbing his hat from the passenger seat, he smashed it on his head as he climbed out of the driver’s door, still staring at the woman. “Well, I’ll be damned. If it ain’t Houdini’s sister. Sammie Tanner.”

By her shell-shocked expression, they were both thrown off a cliff. She recovered, giving him a grin that showed off nice white teeth as she brazenly moved her slanted gaze from his hat to his boots and back up slowly. “This is certainly a surprise, cowboy. Last person I expected to see was the Wes Jericho.”

“Are you really that surprised considering Second Chances is only three miles that way?” He jerked his head in the direction.

With a roll of her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I should rephrase that. You were the last person I wanted to see.”

He squinted. “Who pissed in your morning coffee?”

“You did when you called me back to town. I’ve had nothing but bad luck since I pulled across the county line,” she grumbled.

“Sorry to drag you away from your castle, but Lucas needs you, not that you would know.” He kicked up a rock. “In fact, if I’d known I’d run into you, I would have driven the opposite direction.”

Something softened in her expression, but only slightly. “Look, I’m as hot as a cactus and about as prickly as one. How about we put our differences aside for a few hours and you help me out? Still good with those?” Her gaze lingered on his hands that were drawn into tight fist.

So, she’d decided to come back to Texas? With an attitude. Lucky him.

How was it that her hair was plastered to her rosy cheeks, her shirt clung to her skin with perspiration, and he was bombarded with images of her naked body slick with sweat in the back of his pick-up truck? He’d sold the heap of metal years ago, but the memories stayed. Standing before him wasn’t the woman that disappeared without saying goodbye, no, she was the woman that hadn’t changed a bit, at least not enough to cause any alarm. Nine years had done nothing but be kind to her, if not give her more curves to hold on to. He shifted in his worn boots, stirring up a cloud of dust in the gravel as he tried to ignore the swelling behind his zipper. Suddenly, the heat became intolerable and his own shirt dampened.

No, this wasn’t good, not at all. He wanted nothing more than to forget how responsive she’d been underneath him. How she’d sunk her claws into his back and he’d liked it…a lot.

Remembering she’d made a suggestion, he dragged his mind back on track and off her body. “What do you need? A ride back to the airport?”

Completely dismissing his sarcasm, she pointed west. “My rental broke down about a mile that direction. I can check the oil, change a flat if needed, but the smoke billowing from under the hood is beyond my capability.” She reached for her phone and held it at arm’s length, waving it through the air. “This damn phone. One would think Colton would have more cell towers out this way by now.”

“And ruin the casual atmosphere of small town living? Not happening.” He pulled off his hat, scratched his head, then resituated the Stetson back into place. She smiled and it targeted every part of his body that needed to back-the-fuck off. He had no desire to climb that mountain again only to be kicked off the top.

Her chest lifted and fell in frustration. Damn, he was wrong. She had changed. She looked better than she did back when they were together. How could that be? Maybe he needed a pair of glasses. Her skin was glowing. Her breasts were larger. And those flared hips could take a man’s eyeball out if he stared too long.

“You think you could help a girl out this once?”

Yeah, he could help her out all right, but saying what he wanted to do aloud might get him slapped into tomorrow. “Just this once. Jump in and show me where your car is stopped.” He sliced a thumb through the air and slid back into the driver’s seat, kicking the AC into high. Too bad there wasn’t a setting for frozen. His body needed a blast of ice to lower the temperature.

He watched her round the front of his truck, her hat and glasses back into place. When she climbed into the passenger seat, he caught a glimpse of dusty cowgirl boots and followed the line of slender, toned legs to the fringe of her shorts that settled on firm thighs. This was going to be one of the longest rides of his life. He forced his concentration on the road as he slid the gear shift into drive.

“You called me about my dad, Wes. I haven’t been home yet. What should I expect?”

He shrugged, feeling as if his black T-shirt had shrunk two sizes and his buckle had turned into a heated branding iron. “He’s getting old, Sam. Everyone does. Even we are.”

She shot him a smile across the bench seat. “You don’t look a day older than the man I knew years ago.”

“If you had x-ray vision, you might say differently.”

“Oh, we all have our internal baggage.” She turned her gaze to look out of the open window and bent her knee, hooking her boot on the seat. The frayed hem of the shorts lifted higher on her thigh and his mouth salivated. What he wouldn’t give for a bottle of water…or a lick of her skin.

Damn. Stop right there, Jericho. This won’t happen. Can’t happen.

Thankfully, he saw the car ahead, hood open, but the smoke she’d referred to had stopped. He pulled over, slammed the gear into park and shut off the engine. He was already looking under the hood when she joined him a second later. He kept his gaze on the engine and ignored her cotton candy scent that lingered in his breathing space. “Can you grab me a wrench from the tool box in the back of my truck?”

She reappeared with the tool in hand, glad she didn’t have to ask what a wrench looked like. He took it from her and fiddled with the battery cables and radiator hose, but to get a better idea of what the problem was, he needed to look at things from the underside. At least he wasn’t wearing his Sunday’s best, but he didn’t want to ruin his lucky shirt, although it certainly failed him today. Grabbing the cotton, he tugged the shirt over his head and hung it on the mirror of the car. He thought he heard her gasp, but when he looked back at her, she had her gaze on her fingernails, probably upset over a broken nail.

Using a jack from the trunk, he lifted the car.

The pavement was hot and it scratched his skin as he eased himself under the fender, exploring the problem, not only with the car but in his jeans that were uncomfortably tight. He adjusted his package before he lost brain cells. When he pulled himself back out, his eyes automatically tracked a sexy trail up ridiculously long legs to back pockets that cradled a nice, firm, rounded ass. Hearing her clear her throat, he stood and swiped the dust and dirt from his hands. He wanted to disregard how good she looked, but it was an impossible task, especially when she was leaning one hip against the side of the car and she’d removed the sunglasses to show off baby blues. He couldn’t resist allowing his eyes to take a languorous journey down her moist neck, across her breasts contained in a thin bra and damp tank. He continued the path down slender waist, flared hips, and luscious thighs to toned calves. He scurried his gaze back on a safer region, although he wasn’t sure how safe because she was looking at him with wide eyes and pouty lips.

Something ignited in her pensive glare. Anger? Desire? A bit of both? “Is there a problem?” She splayed her hands on her tilted hips.

Yeah, a big one behind his zipper, but he didn’t want to give her the pleasure of knowing she still turned him inside out. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t find a woman to fill his needs, but the truth was, he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. His daughter was number one and the ranch number two and between the both of his priorities, getting laid, or even a simple dinner and movie, didn’t exist. Damn, he was pathetic. “Your radiator is busted. You’ll need a new one.”

“Crud! I’m in this town all of a half hour and things are already falling apart.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t tell you the best part.”

“Sock it to me. When it rains, it might as well pour.” With her long fingers, she pushed her damp hair away from her cheeks and exhaled with a deep moan.

“Spencer, Colton’s one and only mechanic, is away at a relative’s funeral. He won’t be back for a week so you have no choice but to call the rental place and get them to come get her. I hope you weren’t planning to high tail it out of Dodge any time soon.” He had to clamp his lips tightly shut to keep from smiling. He wasn’t sure why it humored him that she was stuck, but he did have a good idea. Colton had the best views this side of Texas, but she was the best damn thing he’d seen in years. He swept his gaze over her, stopping momentarily on her nails that were neat and recently manicured, and he didn’t see any broken talons. He knew what manicures were because Brie educated him on the things he needed to know about girls. Of course, he couldn’t put into words how grateful he had been for Pippa and Harley taking over some of the more femininely duties with his daughter. Although he’d painted enough nails and toenails to last a lifetime, he wasn’t much good at staying between the lines. But a daddy always lowered his manly pride to please his girl.

 

*****

 

Sammie caught the cowboy’s lingering stare on her nails. The one part of her that wasn’t dirty or sweaty. She had never needed a shower more.

When a woman saw an old flame, especially the very man who she still thought of, she wanted to look all dolled up, or at least presentable. Her hair was flat. Her makeup had melted. And she’d sweated enough to fill a pool.

When it came down to it, she knew she’d run into him…eventually. Colton was only so big, yet she’d hoped it would be later instead of sooner. When that time came, she had wanted to be prepared, put together and preferably wearing that cute little dress that still had the tags on. Instead of admiring her, even noticing that she worked out in the gym, he was getting a kick out of her situation.

Why did she care what he thought? What they shared was history. The old feelings were gone, but were they? Taking a swift glance over his broad shoulders and detailed abs, she wanted to fan herself or jump into the nearest lake, which she’d done enough of back when they’d shared long nights by the water. She’d been thrown into a twilight zone of emotions when she saw him pull up wearing that panty-melting grin. Yes, she cared, especially seeing that time had been very good to him. Back in Chicago she saw a lot of business men dressed in designer suits with their hair combed back into slick styles. But Weston Jericho was a cowboy, all the way down to the center of his bones. His hat was worn and dirty, the rim a little askew. He had a good two days’ worth of beard on his jaw, but the black stubble was a stark contrast for his bright, blue eyes. His nice fitting jeans, faded and frayed, set low on slender hips accentuated by a large, silver belt buckle with the name Jericho and a bull engraved on it. She knew because all the Jericho cowboys had one. He and his brothers were renowned bachelors, not just in Colton, but all of Texas. There wasn’t a single woman, some married, above the age of eighteen who didn’t wish at one time or another to snag one of the sexy, blue-eyed, Jerichos who were local rodeo stars. She guessed, even years later, things were much the same.

Her gaze automatically fell to his empty ring finger. He wasn’t snagged yet.

She’d bet her eye teeth the lady folk wanted him more now than ever. No doubt, he’d beefed up in all the right places since the last time she saw him. Without his shirt, she got a good view of his solid, toned muscles. Wide shoulders. Twelve pack abs and a spattering of dark hair on his chest. Just enough to prove he was eating his meat and potatoes, and working the land. His appealing, blue gaze reflected that he was a confident, skilled man. Back years ago, he knew his way around the backseat of a pick up so she could only imagine what he’d learned over the years. She’d noticed that his ebony hair was tangled with silver threads, especially at his temples.

And imagine was exactly what her mind did…

She had the strong urge to fan herself, but it wouldn’t do a bit of good.

Things weren’t the same and she had to keep that in mind. If this was nine years ago she would have greeted the cowboy by jumping into his arms, kissing every inch of his face, and saying, “I love you.” Oh, to be young again. She wasn’t the same naïve, happy-to-a-flaw girl who’d graduated college thinking she had the world, and dreams, by the reins. One late night in a barn changed all that for her. Would Wes understand? If she thought his world wouldn’t have been upended, she would have told him that same night, especially when she’d driven by his house a dozen times on her way out of town. She’d stopped on the county line and spent an hour debating what she should do. She’d wanted to see Wes—wanted to divulge all her secrets, but fear had kept her steady inside of the car.

In the end, she’d pulled away and never looked back.

Although she, and a dozen other women, still carried the crush for Wes, that was as far as things would go. She wasn’t in Colton to stay and getting involved with a memory could only spell disaster.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

At the husky-toned offer, her inner thighs quivered. “What?” Ride had so many definitions and she touched upon every naughty one.

“A ride.” One corner of his mouth lifted and his blue gaze twinkled. Could he see right through her? “A lift to Tanner Ranch.”

Although she heard every word he said, she stood there staring, stuck between the words ‘ride’ and ‘lift,’ both so different when spoken from a dimple-bracketed mouth. “I-I…well…” The thought of being in his truck, a few feet away from him again, no matter how close the ranch was, almost made her melt into her boots.

“Hey, if you’re worried, you know I don’t bite. Just a nibble on occasion.” He winked.

Oh sheesh! Her libido slammed into overdrive. His teasing flirtation conjured up memories of him nibbling her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and the secret part of her that trembled with a need she hadn’t felt in so long. The sun grew hotter. The scent of the sunflowers scattering the fields mixed with heated pavement swirled underneath her nostrils. And there was something else. Soap, leather and musk. An irresistible combination. “I don’t think this is a clever idea,” she mumbled.

 “Or you can walk, Seesaw.” He laughed.

Narrowing her gaze, she stuck her hands on her hips. “I haven’t been called that in years.”

“Well, now you’re back in Texas, sweetheart. We do things differently here.” He winked and her toes curled.

Stop betraying me, body. All his sweet charm would work on the young woman she’d been right out of college, but she was older, smarter, educated on men who wanted one thing. A man couldn’t just sweep in with his panty-melting grin and deep dimples and get his way. No way in hell. Her legs were locked together tight.

She looked up and down the road as a dust tornado swirled in front of her. As much as she didn’t want his help because she was independent and didn’t want to owe anyone anything, but she also didn’t want to walk three miles, let alone two feet, in this heat. The only thing she had on her mind was getting a cold shower and filling her stomach because she hadn’t eaten since she ate at a greasy road stop diner that had her popping antacids for fifty miles afterward. And there was a third thing on her list and that included a cowboy, a bed, and a whole lotta loving. Nope. Won’t happen.

What was wrong with her? Since she’d left Colton, every man she met, every sexual encounter, she’d set the tone of the relationship. Made rules that were sometimes outrageous and impossible, but she’d wanted to stay in control. Looking back, obviously Brady had been a comfort zone, and why she’d stayed with him for so long. He fulfilled her need for companionship, at least for a while, and when she wanted sex, he was safe and if she tried real hard she could have an orgasm with him. Most of the time though she relied on her vibrator to fix that need. In a matter of less than an hour, Wes had switched things up. She was out of control. He was dangerous and she wanted nothing more than to grab him by the collar, climb into the backseat, and relieve a part of her that ached for his touch. And when it came to an orgasm, there wouldn’t be any trying because standing there looking at him, she could almost have a big O.

Stepping foot into town had made her fizz-headed. She could treat this as she would a client she was handling, with logic and compassion, but keep her emotions behind closed doors.

Sure, she could do this.

Grabbing her suitcase and rounding the front of his truck, she dropped her bag in the back, jerked open the passenger door and slid inside, instantly cooled by the cold air blowing through the vents. Yeah, this was the right choice.

He must have sensed her euphoria. “Nice, huh?”

“I’d forgotten how hot it gets here.” She pulled out the hem of her tank to let the air cool her covered skin.

His smile did funny flips to her stomach. “You’ll get used to it quick enough. I’m sure it’ll all come back to you how a country girl cools off.” He pulled the truck onto the road toward Tanner Ranch.

“You referring to cold beer by the water?”

“That and skinny dipping. We wouldn’t want to forget that part.”

“Lawdy.” She whistled through her teeth, feeling the flush from the tip of her roots to her painted toenails. “I can’t believe we skinny dipped together. You saw me naked more than my momma did.”

“We did a lot of things together, few cooled us off though.”

He could have easily reached over and touched her, but his hands were still on the steering wheel. Fireworks went off inside her body. She turned her cheek and stared out the window, not seeing anything through the haze of her thoughts. “Don’t get any ideas, slick. I’m a different woman—completely different.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you’re completely different. That adorable southern twang is returning. I’m waiting for that rowdy, country girl to bust out. The one who saw everything as a challenge.”

She wouldn’t bite if he was fishing, and she guessed that’s exactly what he was doing. Instead, she concentrated on the familiar scenery through the window. Her old stomping ground loomed before her, luring her with sprawling, rolling hills spotted with bluebonnets and shrubs. This area of Texas had been gifted with lots of rain over the last few months and it showed in the vibrant color of the grass and foliage, a lot different than the busy streets and sidewalks in front of her apartment.

Hearing him turn up the music to an old favorite song, she shifted and caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at her legs, and the twinkling in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. A sliver of her wanted to tell him, “Keep your eyes to yourself, cowboy,” but another part, a bigger part, quivered at the knowledge that Weston Jericho, most wanted bachelor of Texas, still found her attractive. She didn’t come home to get tangled up in some second chance romance. She came to check on her daddy and eventually get back to her life faraway from Texas—and the charm of a certain cowboy.

Seeing the white confectionary box sitting between them, her mouth salivated. “Are those Lanie’s treats?”

He smiled. “Yes, they are.”

Her stomach growled. “Sharing is caring, don’t you think?”

“Help yourself,” he offered.

“I think I will.” She opened the box and looked at the variety of goodies. It was hard to choose, but she went for the sweet roll. She bit into the moist confection and closed her eyes, enjoying the depth of flavors. When she opened her eyes, Wes was staring at her. “Sorry. I haven’t had one of these in so long. I couldn’t find anything that matched although I tried real hard.”

“I remember how you loved the lemon rolls.”

“You brought me two and a coffee every Sunday morning.”

“Before church,” he added.

She blew out a long breath. “Those were the days. Sitting and listening to the pastor preach about behaving and then we’d spend the rest of the day swimming. I swore Pastor Devon could see right through me as I sat in the pew wearing my bikini underneath my clothes.”

He blinked. “Hell, girl. When did you ever wear a suit swimming?” he teased.

“Exactly.” She laughed, pinched off a bit of roll and popped it into her mouth.

“Pastor Devon once came to the ranch telling my dad that his sons were rowdy and we had the devil buried in our blood. Pops reminded him when they were kids and used toilet paper to paint the town and drink moonshine from a jug. The pastor never came back and every Sunday after I got the biggest greeting from him. Unbelievably, I still visit Pastor Devon at the nursing home.”

Finishing her roll, she licked her fingers and laid her head back on the headrest, the whirling sound of the air blowing through the vents relaxed her until the silence became an itch that she needed to scratch. Logic told her not to ask anything personal, but she couldn’t help herself. “How are things at Second Chances, Wes?”

“Same ole, same ole,” he said in a slow drawl.

“That’s a very vague answer.” She shifted. “So, maybe you’ll fill me in on exactly why you called me out here. I’d like to know what I’m walking into. You said you think daddy is sick, but I don’t remember him being sick a day in his life, not even with the sniffles. I swear I think he hid a bottle of whiskey and when he felt a little under the weather, he kicked back a shot and poof! He was well again.”

“I visited Lucas just as he was finishing a sewing project.” He scraped a palm down his cheek.

“My dad was sewing? Really? What was he sewing?”

“He’d stitched up a wound on his hand after he’d taken a fall.”