Chapter 27

Shawnee’s heart jolted when she saw the beam of Cole’s flashlight appear around the end of the grandstand. She flopped onto her back and pressed her palms into the mattress, barely able to hear his footsteps over the pounding in her ears. Crunch, crunch, crunch…closing in fast. Damn, the man could cover ground in a hurry when he put his mind to it. Every step was like the twist of a key, winding up a spring inside her.

Thud!

She shot off the bed at the single, deep knock. Her palms were damp as she smoothed one hand down her green nightshirt and the other over her hair. Geezus. You’d think she’d never done this before. She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk slowly to the door.

It was like kicking open the hatch of an airliner, midflight. The sight of him—a mountain of hard, rumpled male—sucked the air out of the trailer. Shawnee had to grab the door frame to keep from being dragged with it by his sheer gravity. A squiggle of unexpected apprehension tickled her chest.

Damn. That was a lot of man.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She nodded, any cool, teasing words wiped from her mind as she stared at his chest. His T-shirt was ragged around the collar and worn so thin she could see the outline of his nipples. Suddenly, she absolutely got why men loved wet T-shirt contests. She dragged her gaze up to meet his and lost another chunk of her vocabulary. His eyes were doing that hot, smoking thing, and his hair looked like she’d already been running her fingers through it. Stiff, starched Cole was nowhere in sight, and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle what had shown up in his place.

“I stopped by earlier.”

“I know.” There. She could speak. Sort of.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“You didn’t knock.” She knew, because she’d barely breathed the entire time he’d stood outside her window, hoping but not hoping he’d take the hint and go away.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

Hah. Fat chance, when her body was revving like a dragster on the starting line. She could practically smell the burning hormones. If there’d been a snowball’s chance in hell she wasn’t going to jump Cole, it had melted the instant she realized he was furious—not at her—but at himself for not trusting in her ability. She’d always been attracted to men who respected her as a roper, but she’d never had one flat-out declare that she was, in this particular situation at least, the better hand for the job.

There was no bigger turn-on than a guy who thought you were a stud.

“I knew you’d be back,” she said, in answer to his implied question, and angled her head toward the lighted digits on the microwave. “Right on schedule.”

His eyes drifted down, over the shimmering silk nightshirt to her bare legs, and on to the toenails she’d painted a juicy purple. “Why not earlier?”

“I prefer not to have Hank outside doing play-by-play while we rock this trailer.”

His head snapped up and his nostrils flared, like a stud horse scenting a willing mare. Shawnee’s body responded with an equally primitive rush of heat. He started to step inside, then stopped. “I, uh, didn’t bring…”

“Condoms?”

A hint of red stained his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you could get the dog to fetch them,” she said, with a pointed look past his ankles.

“The…oh shit. I forgot.” He jerked around. Katie’s expression was somehow both mortally wounded and murderous. Cole gestured toward his trailer. “I’ll just…”

“I’ll be right here.” Lord knew she wasn’t setting a single bare toe outside, with Katie curling her lip and sending off death vibes.

He vaulted out of the trailer, not bothering to use the steps. The dog fired one last snarl over her shoulder as she stumped after him. Shawnee stood in the middle of the floor, left in awkward limbo. Did she just stand there, like he’d hit the pause button? Go sprawl on the bed and try to look seductive? Yeah, right. She folded her arms to contain the slow ka-thud, ka-thud of her heart and stared down at her feet, admiring the way the polish glittered when she wiggled her toes. Maybe she should—

She let out a squeak when Cole burst through the door and slammed it behind him as if the devil dog was on his heels. “What did you do, sprint?” she asked.

“I didn’t want to give you time to reconsider.” He was winded, and in one hand he clutched an entire box of condoms.

Shawnee raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or intimidated.”

“I wasn’t planning on using them all tonight.” He ducked his head and peeked through his eyelashes, which of course were long and dark, damn men and their genetics. “I thought I should leave them here, since my trailer is always parked right next to the trucks and all.”

She probably should’ve been annoyed at his assumption that this was an open-ended invitation, but instead it was sort of, well, sweet. And that thought threw her totally off stride. She was prepared for hot and sweaty. Sweet, not so much. She glanced around, at a loss where to take this next. The couch? The bed?

She could just grab him and kiss him, and let it go from there.

He smiled, so pure and full of light it was as if a mist had lifted behind his eyes. Until this moment, when she saw him completely unguarded, she hadn’t realized how many layers of protection Cole kept between himself and the world. And no wonder. Her heart twisted at the sight of the bashful boy who peered out from inside this massive man. Wary. Vulnerable. So very vulnerable.

Panic fluttered deep in her stomach. Oh God, what had she done?

The smile dropped away. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” She took a step back, found the edge of the counter, and braced her suddenly untrustworthy knees. It was too late to turn back. She’d already breached his defenses and been admitted into the secret garden. She hugged her arms tighter around herself and stuck out her chin. “You have to agree to the rules, first.”

He swallowed visibly. His gaze swept around the trailer, with special attention to the bed, then back to her. “Like establishing personal boundaries and safe words?”

“Safe…what?”

His cheeks colored again. “I read on the Internet if things are going to get a little, uh, rough, you should—”

She burst out laughing. “I’m not gonna chain you to the bed—unless you want me to. Otherwise…I meant that you need to understand my relationship ground rules. I don’t do serious, and I don’t do long-term. Ever.” And because this was Cole, she had to be extra specific. “When my job with Jacobs Livestock is over, so are we. Agreed?”

“But—”

“No buts. No convincing yourself that I’ll change my mind, or maybe you can drop by my place back home once in a while for old times’ sake.” She made her words deliberately hard and cold. “When September ends, I’m gone.”

Cole frowned at her. “Why?”

“Because that’s the way I roll.” And explaining the reasons was a pit she had no desire to dive into. “Nothing personal. Same applies to everyone. Take it or leave it.”

“Even if—”

Especially if. Her heart twinged, still beating its wings against the cage after all this time. “No exceptions.”

Cole studied her intently, as if looking for a crack in her armor, or a loophole to wiggle through. After a long moment, he nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” There. She couldn’t be any clearer. Cole was thirty-five years old and he might not date a lot, but this wasn’t his first barbecue. If he chose to take his chances, any pain and suffering was on him. “So…”

“So.”

When he didn’t make a move, she shifted, one set of bare toes covering the other. “Well, this is awkward. Now that I’ve got you here, I can’t decide what to do with you.”

“No problem.” He tossed the condom box up onto the bed, toed off his boots, and advanced on her, one deliberate stride and then another, until his scent drenched every molecule she breathed in—warm, spicy, and utterly male. He stopped a few excruciating inches short of touching her and his smile came again, this time slow and anything but pure. His voice rumbled so deep in his chest she could feel the vibration in her nipples. “I have a list.”

Her laugh broke in the middle when he raised his hands, his fingers feathering over her cheeks, then threading into her hair. He turned his palms up and let the curls slide across them almost to the end, then trapped one with his thumb and brushed it over his upper lip, his eyelids drifting down as he inhaled. “Soft. Smells like cookies.”

“Vanilla shampoo,” she choked out. For some reason, she was having trouble breathing.

When he’d told her that autistic people tended to have heightened senses, she hadn’t translated it into touch and scent. Or realized it could be contagious. Suddenly, every nerve ending was super-charged, the gentle tug of his fingers in her hair sending a rush of tingles across her scalp.

“Mmmm.” He caught up a fistful and sniffed again. “Nice.”

He draped the curtain of hair over her shoulders, then cupped her elbows and all but lifted her off her feet. She grabbed at his waist as he moved her over until her heels bumped the steps to the bed, in the nose of the trailer. “Step up.”

She did. One step, then the next, too mesmerized to argue. Strange, to be able to look Cole directly in the eye. His were the color of misty summer mountains, shot through with cobalt that brought to mind a secret lake only a blessed few ever stumbled across. A place to rest, and let your worries trickle away.

Or explore, the way Cole’s fingers trailed sparks down to her right wrist and closed over her hand. “Flex.”

She blinked away the haze of lust and squinted at him. “What?”

“Make a muscle.”

She gave a baffled huh, but curled her fingers into his belt loop and flexed her arm.

“That’s where the magic lives,” he said, cupping the bulge of her biceps and squeezing gently.

“Not magic. Practice.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me.” His thumb rubbed mind-bending circles on the inside of her upper arm. “I tried to learn to heel steers. As far as I’m concerned, any time someone catches feet, it’s magic.”

“Maybe you need a better teacher.”

He shook his head. “I’ll stick with the horns and let you clean up behind me.”

“For now.”

“For now.” But something about his tone—agreeable almost to the point of smugness—made Shawnee’s radar beep.

“Cole, I meant—” The warning was cut off by an embarrassing squeal when he hitched his hands under her armpits and plunked her butt on the bed. She was not used to being tossed around like a lightweight. “Damn. You could warn a girl.”

He flicked her a grin that was like striking a match to tinder. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She started to scoot back and make room for him, but he caught her ankle, holding her in place. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Moving on to the next item on the list.” He lifted her foot to inspect her toes, then stroked each one between his fingers, massaging. “I had to pencil this one in, after I saw the purple toenails.”

She groaned with pleasure. “Remind me to thank Mariah again for the polish.”

“For both of us.” He gave her a nudge, pushing her onto her back. “You have amazing legs.”

She opened her mouth to argue. Her legs weren’t long. They weren’t skinny. In fact, they were…oh God.

He worked his way over her arch, her calf, and on to her thigh, his fingers kneading the muscles in a way that might have sent her into La-La Land if his thumb hadn’t been trailing along, brushing the most sensitive spots—around her anklebone, behind her knee, along the tender inside of her thigh. The pressure inside her built with every touch, spiraling higher until she nearly whimpered from the intensity of the ache. He pushed the nightshirt up as he went, and gave a low, appreciative growl when he saw the matching underwear. For a long, breathless moment he just drank in the sight. Then he planted a hand on either side of her hips and lowered himself down to brush his lips over the barely there silk and lace.

Fire shot through her, a scorching need that pooled beneath his lips. She shoved at his shoulders, pushing him upright as she jackknifed into a seated position. “Come here, dammit.”

“But I’m not even halfway through—”

“You can finish later. Right now…” She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt.

He gave an exaggerated sigh, but lifted his arms obligingly so she could push the soft cotton up, pausing to admire the landscape. She leaned in and burrowed her nose into the wiry mat of dark hair, then flicked her tongue around one flat brown nipple. Cole sucked in a breath and yanked the shirt the rest of the way off. He flung it over his shoulder, then shucked his jeans and kicked them in the same general direction.

Oh my. If she’d still had ovaries, they would’ve starting spitting out eggs at the sight of him. Nearly naked, Cole seemed even larger, his body thick and muscular. And very well proportioned.

Shawnee gulped, sliding away from him. She’d never felt physically vulnerable with a man, and it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but with his size and strength, Cole could overpower her without breaking a sweat.

Either he read her body language or it was an effect he had on all women. He followed her onto the bed but touched only her chin, a featherlight brush of his fingertip, his expression grave. “If you need me to ease up—or even stop—just say the word.”

“Same for you,” she shot back.

He grinned, a brilliant flash that lit up his eyes and melted her brain—and several other vital parts of her anatomy. When he lowered his body over hers, he led with a kiss that picked up right where the last one had left off—on the edge of madness. Shawnee dug her fingers into his shoulders, then his back, dragging his weight down on her and reveling in the way he surrounded her, blocking out all other sensation except the crush of him against her. Hard where she was soft, and just as inflamed.

Suddenly, there was no more patience. No more teasing. They wriggled and shoved at underwear, hissed in approval when hands and fingers found hot, exposed flesh, muttered impatiently at the need to pause and deal with the condom. And then they were there, at the brink, gazes locked as he eased inside. Her breath hitched and her hips shifted, seeking to accommodate him, inch by inch. Sweat sheened his forehead and was salty on her tongue as she bit his shoulder, driven by an insane urge to leave a mark. Bury herself so deeply under his skin that this man, of all men, would never forget her.

And curse them both.

“Now,” she breathed, digging her heels into the backs of his thighs, seeking oblivion in pure physical sensation.

He made a dark, triumphant noise and began to move—slow, strong, relentless. Shawnee grinned at the creak of metal and springs. Then she wrapped her hands around his butt and urged him deeper as they proceeded to rock that trailer hard. Not to mention her world.

Minutes or hours or half an eternity later, she floated lazily back to the surface, sprawled facedown across Cole’s chest. He’d rolled over at some point, dragging her semiconscious body with him. Now she listened to the deep thud-thud-thud as his heart settled into a normal rhythm. His hand kept time, rubbing slow circles on her back. She drifted along in the post-sex nirvana between sleep and awake, her entire system humming with pleasure. Who knew nitpicking attention to detail equaled cataclysmic orgasms?

“I’ll do better next time,” he murmured drowsily.

Geezus. Was that humanly possible? She slid her palm over his stomach and threaded her fingers through the springy curls of his chest hair. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’ll bet you would.” His laugh was a barely audible vibration against her ear—like so much about Cole, ninety percent below the surface. His hand migrated around to cup her breast, and she arched at the brush of his thumb over her silk-covered nipple. “We can pick up where I left off. Next on the list is getting your shirt off.”