Chapter Five
Charlotte had no experience with kids, but Gracie was pretty great. She was smart, had a ton of energy, and was just all around a fun, happy little girl.
“You need these, and these…ooh, and these,” she was saying, pulling boots from the shelves and stacking them on the floor. Charlotte just sat on the bench facing the massive wall of boots, all shapes and colors of them, and let the little girl do her thing.
The store clerk on the other end of the shop behind the register didn’t seem to care, and neither did Tripp. People around there must’ve been really laid-back, because children weren’t even allowed to go in most shoe boutiques in downtown L.A. Much less touch anything. Wyoming was more refreshing and calm than she’d expected. There was no having to battle a crowd, and no one was judged based on what designer label they wore.
“Whoa, these are super purple,” Charlotte said, holding up the last pair of boots Gracie brought her.
“Uh-huh,” Gracie confirmed and went back on her rampage.
Tripp just stood by the wall, arms crossed, looking like he was thinking through a kidney stone. The turmoil in his eyes pricked her nerves with little needles of anxiety.
She remembered those same turbulent eyes, wild in the darkness as he looked up from between her legs.
She shivered and refocused on the plethora of boots in front of her.
“Hey, Gracie?” she called, and the little girl skipped over. “You’re the expert here, so you have to tell me what I need for going out in the mud and working on the farm. Are these good for that? I want to make sure I don’t slip and fall when I have to milk Wynonna.”
Gracie pinched her little chin and stood exactly how her father was currently standing. Pretty cute. She stared down the boot selection then said, “Slipping and falling hurts a lot. My daddy falls by the cows all the time.”
Charlotte laughed, and Tripp cleared his throat.
“I don’t fall all the time,” he muttered.
“We need to get you girl boots like Daddy’s,” she said cheerfully, and ran back to the wall on the other end of the room. “You try the purple first, though!” she called over her shoulder.
Charlotte obeyed and grabbed the purple boot.
“You don’t have to do this,” Tripp said quietly enough that Gracie wouldn’t hear.
“Do what?”
“Pretend like you’re having a good time.”
“But I am,” she said honestly. She put the boot to her foot and tried to pull it on, but it was snug. “Well, aside from you jumping between happy and pissy like a bipolar cowboy.” She tried to jam her foot in, but the leather was too thick and tough.
Oh, for the love of…
She put the boot on the floor and tried to shimmy her foot in that way.
Tripp’s gaze might as well have been a tangible thing, it was so heavy. She looked up and found him staring at her hard, only this time, the turmoil had turned to lust, and the heat in his eyes flashed across her skin like fire.
His lips were parted, arms flexed at his sides.
She swallowed hard, not knowing why this instant change in him had occurred, but she liked it. He was hot and intense and…
She looked down and gasped.
Her skirt was rucked up high on her thighs, and she’d been so busy trying to get the boot on she hadn’t realized she was going all Basic Instinct on him, opening and closing her legs. From where he stood, Tripp was getting a prime view.
“I see your mood changed yet again,” she said, a little breathless, and crossed her legs, giving up on the purple boot.
He glanced at Gracie, who was still half an aisle away, but happily looking at the wall of boots and humming to herself. He came to kneel in front of Charlotte, and his closeness made her breath catch. She could feel his warmth, smell the spice of his soap mixed with Wyoming sunshine wafting from him. Same as the first night she’d met him.
“You can’t force things,” he said, cupping her calf in his calloused hand, sending shivers down her spine. He gently lifted her leg enough to position the purple boot beneath it and slowly slid her foot in. Her thigh barely parted, but with him this close and kneeling, he could see her panties, she was sure of it. And she kind of liked it.
She also liked this Tripp. The sexy, intense Tripp, with his hands on her skin.
“It wasn’t long ago I found myself in this position,” he murmured, continuing to slide her foot into the boot while oh so slowly spreading her thighs wider, his fingers trailing up her inner thigh. Her breathing quickened, her panties instantly damp. “By far the best meal I’ve ever had was right…here…”
His fingers brushed her through the silky fabric, ghosting over the place she needed him to touch immediately.
She gasped but in a split second, Tripp was gone, back to leaning against the wall. Charlotte blinked wildly, adjusting her skirt.
“So pretty!” Gracie said, running over to look at the purple boot on Charlotte’s foot.
Wait, when had that happened? Oh, yeah. When she’d been on the verge of having an orgasm in the middle of the boot aisle of Wrangler’s while the man’s daughter was mere yards away. Thank God he’d pulled out. Almost literally.
Charlotte had to clear her brain and get a grip quickly.
“Yes, very pretty.”
“These are like Daddy’s…but for girls,” Gracie said with confidence, and handed Charlotte a brown leather boot that looked feminine yet built for a rough day on the farm.
“I like them,” Charlotte said, and started to try them on. She avoided eye contact with Tripp this time, but she could feel him looking at her. And there was no easy way to get out of the purple boot and into the other, so she just had to flash away.
Once she got them on, she really did love them. The distressed leather felt comfy and durable, and the way they scrunched a little around her ankle looked good even with her sundress.
“I think these are winners. Good work, Gracie. I may have to hire you to be my personal shopper.”
Gracie grinned, and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile back. On their way to the checkout, Charlotte grabbed a pair of jeans in her size and added it to her purchase.
She was set.
Well, almost. She just had to get back to her car, which was at Tripp’s, and somehow broach the topic of the tractor without sounding like she needed his help.
“See, Daddy, wasn’t this fun?” Gracie asked, tugging on her dad’s hand.
Tripp smiled, but there was a heat behind it as he looked at Charlotte. “Best shopping experience I’ve had in a while.”
Tingles rose from her toes to her scalp.
“But now I’m starving, and we need to get back,” he said to Gracie, obviously loud enough for Charlotte to hear it.
“Daddy gets grouchy when he’s hungry,” Gracie said to Charlotte.
She looked the man over, all six-plus feet of sexy, looking at her like she might be his last meal and he’d die happier for it. “I bet he does,” she whispered.
Tripp’s gaze blazed over her. “Only when I’m craving something specific,” he said. When those sinful eyes roamed from Charlotte’s breasts to her legs, she was ready to beg him to devour her.
He met her eyes and she stumbled a little, bumping into a rack of shirts. It was enough to break the spell. She refocused on the task at hand, which was fast becoming “don’t get caught up in Tripp’s eyes.”
…
Jesus Christ, Tripp was going to lose his mind. That shopping experience was a special kind of torture. The glimpse of Charlotte’s creamy cleavage and silk panties would be enough to give him a hard-on for the rest of the night.
Not to mention, Gracie really liked her. Gracie eagerly gravitated toward women in a way that made Tripp uneasy, but she had never sought out a woman quite like this before. Like there was a real connection. Teachers, troop leaders, friends’ moms were all well and good, but her attachment to Charlotte was more. Tripp was treading dangerous water with his daughter’s heart. And he’d never gamble with that.
Still, tonight he couldn’t get the smell of Charlotte out of his nose. She was sunshine and flowers and sex. All that smooth skin and those toned thighs. He wanted her legs wrapped around him again.
They didn’t speak on the ten-minute ride back to his ranch. Gracie did, though. A lot. And all to Charlotte.
When they pulled up, Tripp got her out. “Run on in, baby girl. Help Uncle Bo finish up those steaks.”
Gracie did what she was told but waved before disappearing inside. Smiling, Charlotte headed for her car and put her shopping bags inside. It wasn’t until she shut the door and turned to face him that Tripp realized he’d been following her like a damn puppy.
She blinked, clearly not expecting him to be right there. “Look, I know we’re not friends or anything,” she began, “and honestly, I don’t even know what your problem is with me half the time, but we’re neighbors.”
“His problem” had everything to do with not wanting to get involved with Charlotte, yet wanting more of her at the same time. A lot more. Starting with a kiss. Then a night. Then another night. And then another.
But idiot that he was, he didn’t say any of that.
Instead he took a step toward her. “My problem is I’m hungry.”
She edged away, her eyes going hot. “I have no idea how I missed it that first night, but I think you’re just grouchy no matter what.”
“Maybe. Only one way to find out.”
He took another step and she tried to counter, but he’d backed her into the side of the car. Her eyes went wide.
That’s right, darlin’. You’re trapped.
It was just them, alone in the dirt driveway, surrounded by a wide-open Wyoming summer.
He didn’t know where his mind went when she was around. He just knew he needed a single taste, a single touch, to get him through.
So he took it.
He teased his lips against hers, and she wasn’t pulling away. So he nibbled on that plump bottom lip, then took a gentle bite.
She moaned and grabbed the car behind her for support. He chuckled against her mouth. He was getting to her, just like the other night. She’d been so high on the pleasure she’d reached out, trying to get her hands on anything she could.
And he needed his hands on her. To hold tight and deep and lose himself.
He slid his hand up her thigh, only this time, he didn’t stop. He pushed her panties aside and rubbed that soft, tender spot between her legs.
“More,” she whispered. “Please…” Her whispers were soft but throaty. Need radiated from her like steam.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said against her mouth. He drove one finger inside her, and her lips trembled against his. She was trying to hold on to control, but he had no intention of letting her.
As he worked her with his mouth, he reveled in how well he could read her body already. How well she could read his. She clearly needed him, and God it felt good. He’d forgotten what it was like to be wanted like this. If he had his way, he’d bury himself inside her sweet heat and not come out for weeks.
“How do you do this to me?” she asked with a little anger behind her words.
“You’re the one that’s a pain in my ass,” he growled.
“Oh, I’ll be a pain in your ass, all right.” She shoved her hands into his jeans and grabbed his ass, her little nails digging into his flesh. He hissed and fucking loved it. He’d never met a more intense woman in his life. He wanted to toss her between orgasms until they were both out of breath and couldn’t walk.
Intending to deliver on that idea, he hooked his fingers and rubbed the sensitive spot inside that made her go wild. She cried out. “Jesus, darlin’,” he groaned. “You’re soaking for me.”
She frantically nodded and rocked against him, her body telling Tripp exactly what he needed to know. She wanted more, and he wanted to give it to her. Using his free hand, he set about unsnapping his belt buckle, aiming to give her a lot more. But then she tensed. She was close. So close, she was gasping trying to control it.
“Don’t you dare try to deny me,” he warned. “I’ve earned this, and you’re going to give it to me.” He abandoned his buckle and added another finger, pumping into her faster. She gasped his name. “That’s a girl. Give it up. You’re right there, I can feel you.”
“Oh God…” She clung to his ass, digging her nails in, he expected blood.
He surged his fingers deep and used his thumb to stroke her clit at the same time.
She fell apart, writhing and shuddering and crying out his name through her pleasure. Pleasure Tripp felt honored to give her. He wanted her never to forget that he was the one making her come. It was his name on her lips, damn it, and he wasn’t ready for her to be done yet.
He crushed his mouth against hers and kept right on fucking her with his fingers. Her writhing turned to thrashing. Over and over her sexy body shuddered and melted for him, her little sheath squeezing the life out of his fingers. Only when her sweet voice turned ragged did he finally let her come down.
He brought her down slowly, kissing her, gentling his fingers, until slowly pulling away. He wanted her so much. Not just because he was hard as a fucking rock in his jeans, but because when she opened her eyes and gazed up at him, he felt seen. Like she knew what he was, with his flaws and how badly he irritated her, and yet she was still there.
He was the one who wanted more now. He brought the fingers he’d just used on her and tasted them. Damn, the woman was delicious.
She blinked several times, and Tripp waited for what he was dying to hear. That she wanted him. Wanted to take this to the next level. That she wasn’t going to be difficult anymore so maybe they could figure out a way to—
“Tripp?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes?” His lips pulled into a smirk. Here it comes…
“I need to borrow your tractor.”
His mouth dropped open. “What?”
She adjusted her dress and smiled as if he hadn’t just made her come hard and long in under two minutes flat.
“You mentioned being neighborly,” she said with a coy smile. “Well, I appreciate that, and I’ll see you in a few days to harvest the pears.”
He couldn’t find the words to say anything, because all the blood was in his dick. He couldn’t fucking think, and all he could smell was her. She was going to ditch him with a hard-on and the reminder that he’d just been inside her…sort of?
Yep, she was. With one last smile, she got into her car and drove away.
Tripp kicked the dirt and scowled at her disappearing car. He knew staying away from this woman was the best idea—knew it and disregarded it. He was going to have her.
He had to have her.