CHAPTER FOUR
WYNN USUALLY CONSIDERED himself a happy man, but he damn sure didn’t fall into that particular category right now. Nope. He was mad at his uncle Joe for reneging on the deal for him to have the ranch. He was mad at the cold weather, with those blasted iron-gray clouds that were spitting down sleet on him.
And, yep, he was mad at Carlene, too.
Unlike him, she didn’t seem to be seething, though, and hadn’t been since Joe delivered his verdict. Her lack of a reaction was probably because, unlike yesterday, she was now half owner of something she’d thought she’d lost. Still, she was just half.
No way would the place actually be hers, but she was sure as heck acting as if it was. She’d gotten on with her chores as if nothing had changed.
Along with ignoring him.
He guessed that was her plan—just pretend he wasn’t there for the next fifty years or so. Well, Wynn had done that, too. He’d spent a good chunk of the cold-ass day fixing fences. Normally, it was something he liked to do—the solitude, working with his hands—but it hadn’t given him much solace today.
Plus, there were the aches and pains. Too many of them, considering he was only thirty. Riding bulls had definitely taken a toll on his body, what with two concussions, four broken bones and a dislocated shoulder. The pain wouldn’t interfere with the work he had to do, but each twinge was a reminder that being a bull rider had cost him more than just Carlene.
Wynn finished up a fence repair and rode his horse back through the pasture so he could check on the herd. There were plenty of hay bales all around. Plenty of water from the creek, too. In other words, the Santa Gertrudises had everything they needed to thrive, even in the winter.
But Roman had been right. There was enough land for these cows, but not for the bulls Wynn had wanted to bring in. For Wynn to get what he wanted, he’d have to upset a good balance that Carlene had obviously managed to work out with the cattle-to-land ratio. He’d have to screw up her plan. Since he’d already done that once, he wasn’t so inclined to do it again.
Well, if her plan had truly been to be married to him, that was.
At the time, it’d sure seemed that way. His plan, too. Now, though, she was much wiser, and she almost certainly didn’t have him on her “dream” list. He might make her crap list, though, if he didn’t talk this out with her and let her know that things could stay as is. He wasn’t sure how he would fit into “as is,” which was another reason for them to have a chat.
When Wynn rode back to the house, he didn’t have any trouble finding her. She was in the log cabin behind the main house. It was his grandpa’s old place that was now being used as a storage shed. Or, at least, it had been. But, like the boxes in his room, there was stuff out here, too.
Judging from the cobwebs in her hair and the dust on her work clothes, Carlene had been cleaning. She also had a fire going, and the flames were snapping in the rough stone hearth. The place wasn’t exactly toasty warm, but it was a heck of a lot better than being outside. That’s how Wynn justified going inside with her, but he really did want to know what she was up to now.
“Let me guess. You’re turning this into a B and B or a dude ranch,” he joked.
She didn’t scowl, didn’t look at him as if he were toenail fungus. Carlene actually smiled, put her hands on her hips and glanced around the place as if admiring her work. And she had certainly worked. All the boxes and old tools had been shoved to a corner, and she’d cleared the living room and the area that led to the kitchen. The last time he’d been out here, he could barely get the toe of his boot through the door.
“I’m turning this into a home again,” she said. “Joe didn’t say anything about one of us not being able to move out here. The electricity’s still on, and the plumbing works, so I can live here.”
Wynn frowned, and he wasn’t sure why he was frowning because it wasn’t a bad idea. The place wasn’t huge, two bedrooms and a small bath, but it would be plenty of room for Carlene.
“Anyway, I thought I’d finish cleaning today and get my things moved in tomorrow,” she continued. “After that, you won’t have to see me.”
His frown deepened, and this time he knew why. “What if I want to see you?” he threw out there.
She dismissed that with an idle chuckle and went to the massive window just over the sofa. From here, they had a wide-angle view of the pastures.
“I was going to make this into a chicken coop, but I can build a new one out there.” She pointed to the left side of the pasture. “Or there.” She motioned to the other side. “I guess it all depends on how we divvy up the land. I was thinking about taking the east half and you could take the west.”
He was frowning again. Again, he knew why. “I hadn’t thought to divvy it up at all.”
“Well, we’ll need to do that. How else are we going to fit in all our plans? I figure you’ll want to bring in those bulls, and I want to raise some goats.”
Now, he was really frowning. “Texas ranchers don’t raise goats.”
“No, but Texas farmers do. I took this class on cheese making, and I need goat’s milk for that. I won’t have any trouble selling it at the farmer’s market.”
Well, hell in a handbasket. Now they were getting into the cheese business. Maybe they could build a cracker factory to go with it.
“Garrett called earlier,” she continued, still looking out the window. “Apparently, Birch left here this morning and went straight to talk to him. Garrett thinks I’m miserable and offered me a job. A place to live, too. He said I could use the guesthouse on the ranch.”
It took Wynn a moment to process that, and something jumped right out at him. Obviously Garrett, and maybe plenty of other people in Wrangler’s Creek, thought this living arrangement wasn’t a good idea.
It wasn’t.
But why were they so sure of it?
“Are you miserable?” Wynn asked.
She snapped toward him, and when she looked at him, he could almost see the regret she had about spilling that. Again, he wanted to know why.
He gently took hold of her arm and turned her so they were fully facing each other. “Roman hinted that something had happened after I left. There are enough people worried about you that I know something’s wrong.”
Carlene huffed. “Well, what’s wrong is my ex-husband breezed back into my life and keeps trying to put the moves on me.”
That was true, but there was something else. “What the hell happened after I left three years ago?” It was time he got some answers, too.
She huffed even louder than the last time and would have dodged his gaze if he hadn’t kept a grip on her arm.
“I’m not leaving this cabin until I find out what went wrong,” Wynn added.
Carlene stared at him. And stared. Then she muttered a few words of profanity. Wynn stared at her, as well, waiting. Because there was nothing that was going to make him back down from getting an answer.
Or so he thought.
But he’d been wrong.
Carlene caught onto the front of his shirt, wadding it up in her hands, and she yanked him to her. In that same yanking motion, she managed to land her mouth right on his. And she kissed him. Really kissed him. She made it hot and deep right from the start. Not many places to go from there, except maybe straight to bed.
She tasted like birthday cake. Always had. Something sweet and fun. It was a taste that filled him with expectations. And lust. Especially lust. He went from surprised to rock hard in seconds.
Of course, Wynn knew this was a ploy so that he wouldn’t press her on the question, and that riled him. But it didn’t rile him enough to put an end to the kissing. He wanted this for just a little while longer.
Carlene gave him longer.
She kept kissing, and she lifted her hands, sliding them around the back of his neck until there was nothing between their bodies.
He expected her to protest, but that wasn’t a protesting sound she made. It was a purr. Soft and silky. Just like the woman herself.
His chest was already pressing against her breasts, and he moved his hand to the front of her shirt to do some touching and playing. She made another of those purrs, and he could tell that both the kisses and the touches were heating her up. Since he was well past the heated-up stage, he forced himself to think of what to do next. He could just go with the flow, but that would land them on the floor for some crazy, fast sex. Or he could consider that this maybe wasn’t the best idea.
His erection didn’t want him to consider it. Actually, no part of his body wanted it, but he had to look beyond the moment. Something he wasn’t always good at doing. Still, Wynn tried, and what he saw was that this could seriously screw up the tenuous relationship they had. And if it didn’t screw it up, it might give Carlene expectations that he wasn’t sure she should have.
Not right now, anyway.
And that’s why Wynn pulled back and looked her straight in the eyes. “We’ll have sex after you tell me what happened.”
Man, it was hard for him to do that. Having a hot, willing Carlene in his arms was pure fantasy material. But there was a price here that Carlene might not want to pay.
“Did you have a miscarriage or something?” he pressed. Because that was the bad thing that kept coming to mind—that she’d lost a baby, their baby, and he hadn’t been there with her when it happened.
“Fine,” she snapped.
But Carlene didn’t say anything else. She stepped away from him, folded her arms over her chest. Her bottom lip began to tremble a little while the seconds just crawled by.
“I had a breakdown, all right?” she finally said.
So, no miscarriage, but Wynn had to shake his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I went crazy, and they had to put me in a place for crazy people. There. Are you happy now?” Unlike him, she didn’t wait for an answer. Carlene grabbed her coat and stormed out.
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU going to do?”
Carlene stared down into her beer. The answer wasn’t in the mug of Lone Star, so she looked at her friend who’d asked the question.
Mila Banchini.
She was seated across from Carlene in a booth at the Longhorn Bar. When Mila arrived about an hour earlier, she’d been in a fairly good mood. After all, with their busy schedules, they didn’t get together that often for drinks anymore. But Carlene had clearly managed to spread her doom and gloom mood to her friend. Mila’s forehead was bunched up, and there was concern in her eyes.
Carlene was certain there was a Texas-sized amount of concern in her own eyes, too. It coordinated well with the doom and gloom.
“I never wanted Wynn to know what happened to me,” Carlene said. Since there still weren’t any answers in the beer, she had a sip of it.
Mila lifted her shoulder. “It’s hard to keep secrets in Wrangler’s Creek.”
Carlene made a sound of agreement. “True. But in this case, I thought it was okay because only Roman and you knew.”
And they knew because Mila had been the one to drive Carlene to the hospital in San Antonio. Mila had called Roman shortly thereafter so he could wait with her while the doctors had been evaluating Carlene.
Carlene groaned softly. Not exactly sugarplum memories. “I might have told Birch, too, when I had too much to drink at Sophie’s party.”
“No.” Mila immediately shook her head. “You told him you were still in love with Wynn and that Wynn had broken your heart.”
Carlene stared at her and was about to ask how Mila could possibly know that. Then she remembered that Mila had been in the car with them that night. Well, it was something, at least, that Carlene hadn’t blabbered to Birch, but that didn’t undo the bottom line here.
Mila and Roman had kept her secret.
It had been Carlene who’d ratted herself out to Wynn.
Or, rather, she’d told him just enough to let him know that, because of him, she had crumbled like a dry autumn leaf under the heel of a boot.
“So, what are you going to do?” Mila repeated. She had a sip of her own drink. Not beer. It was pink and had a skewer of cherries and pineapple chunks spearing out of it.
“Murder is illegal in Texas.” It was Carlene’s attempt at a joke.
Mila patted her hand. “You don’t want to murder Wynn. And that’s the problem. You’ve always wanted him. Still do.”
Yes. And Carlene didn’t even attempt to lie about it. A lie that big might have sent a lightning bolt right at her. And speaking of lightning bolts, one did come into the bar.
Wynn.
He stepped in, looking around, and the moment he laid eyes on her, he started her way. Carlene so wished she’d found answers in her beer or in this chat with Mila. No such luck, though. She was completely clueless about how to handle this.
Wynn, however, seemed to have given this some thought.
He set aside her beer, hauled Carlene out of the booth and kissed the living daylights out of her. It happened so fast that she didn’t even see it coming. But, mercy, she felt it all right. The tingling came, and it didn’t seem to matter that she was answerless or that this was going on in the middle of a crowded bar. For a few seconds, everything vanished but the heat that the kiss was generating.
Wynn kept kissing her until they’d die if they didn’t break for air. That’s when Wynn stopped kissing her and grabbed her coat from the booth.
“Carlene and I have to...uh, talk,” Wynn said to Mila.
Mila smiled. “With you two, sometimes kissing works better than talking.”
Carlene agreed, but then again, that was because she was under the influence of the blistering attraction. That’s why she didn’t stop Wynn when he helped her into her coat and took her outside.
His truck was parked right by the door, and he’d left the engine on. It was warm when he pulled her inside and he got behind the wheel. It became even warmer when he kissed her again. Not just her mouth, either.
Oh, man.
He went after her neck, tonguing her in the most sensitive spot she had above the waist. She cursed him for remembering the location of that spot—just below her ear. And she cursed him again when he reminded her that he knew how to use that spot to make her want a whole lot more of him than just his mouth and tongue.
His hands, for a start.
And he gave her that, as well.
Those nimble fingers worked their way beneath her top, found her bra and pushed down the cups so he could pinch her nipples. Again, they were hot spots, and Wynn knew it. Coupled with the neck kisses and his other hand sliding up her thigh, Carlene was ready to get him naked right there.
And then someone tapped on the window.
Wynn and she flew apart as if they’d just been caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. Which was the truth. At least, they shouldn’t have been doing it in front of the Longhorn.
Carlene had to wipe off the condensation on the window before she could see the tapper. It was Roman. He was scowling and smiling at the same time, something that only Roman could have accomplished.
She lowered the window when Roman motioned for her to do that. “Busy?” Roman asked.
There was definitely no smiley part in her scowl. “I know I’m playing with fire,” Carlene said. She kept her voice at a whisper, but Wynn probably heard her anyway.
“Well, as long as you know what you’re doing,” Roman said. His scowl was gone now, and he was back to his usual badass expression.
Oh, Carlene knew what she was doing, all right, but she had no idea what the consequences would be. At best, there’d be a lot of confused feelings. At worst, well, she didn’t even want to go there.
Roman took something from his pocket and tossed it into the truck. A condom. “Be safe. And if you find a lull when Wynn’s tongue isn’t in your mouth, maybe you should tell him what happened to you after he left.”
“I did tell him,” she said. At least, she’d given Wynn the big picture. Not the details, though.
Wynn leaned forward so he could make eye contact with Roman. “You’re not going to threaten to kick my ass if I hurt Carlene again?”
“Oh, that’s a given. But only Carlene can decide if she’s going to let you do that to her. And only you can decide if you want to avoid the ass whipping by doing the right thing.”
With that annoying advice, Roman strolled away and into the Longhorn. It was annoying because it was true. On her part, anyway. She held her own destiny in her hands. She could put an end to the kissing and not risk another broken heart. Another meltdown.
Or she could do something that would prove she was no longer going to fall apart without him.
She picked up the condom and showed it to Wynn. “Let’s put this to good use right now.”