Chapter 34

For the second week in a row, Jacobs Livestock left pieces of itself behind as the rigs rolled out onto the highway. Even with Joe to ride shotgun in Tyrell’s place, Cole felt the empty spaces. They gnawed inside him, nibbling down his nerves like mice chewing on electrical wires, threatening to short circuit his system.

So he talked.

About the stock. Violet. What a great season Delon was having and what were his chances of repeating as the world champ? Any and every subject he and Joe had in common. At first, Joe was startled. Then wary. Then he seemed to recognize why Cole was suddenly as chatty as a sugared-up third grader and played along, asking questions, nudging out stories from when they were all kids.

Violet was going to wring his neck for some of those.

So why hadn’t Cole told them before? Even with Joe, with his family and closest friends, all the people he would trust with his life let alone his pride, he’d fallen into the habit of keeping one finger on the mute button. Letting go felt like relaxing a muscle that had been clenched for years.

Four hours down the road, the exhaustion slammed into Cole. He turned the wheel over to Joe, tilted back the passenger seat, and fell into a fitful half sleep, peppered with dreams and memories that twisted together and apart and together again, exposing more internal wiring, overcharged and throwing sparks.

He woke with a lurch to the flash and boom of lightning.

“Just a thunderstorm.” Joe slowed the rig as the first fat drops smacked the windshield, building to a deluge. “No severe weather warnings.”

But it had caught Cole completely off guard. In the turmoil of the morning, he had forgotten to check the weather along their route. Somehow, that was the last straw. The final failure that threatened to tip him over the edge. He dug his fingers into the armrest, struggling to swallow the ball of emotion that choked off his airway. It hurt enough to make his eyes water.

“It’ll be okay,” Joe said, his gaze fixed on the rain-slick road. “The worst is over.”

He could’ve been talking about the storm, which was already slackening off to a steady drizzle, but Cole thought there was more to the assurance. He only nodded as he checked the weather app on his phone. A slow-moving green blotch stretched over the Texas border and into Utah, covering the town where they planned to stop for the night.

As predicted, there was still a steady patter at one a.m. when they pulled into the rodeo grounds where Violet had arranged for them to unload and bed down. Normally, the sweet, clean smell of it would’ve lifted Cole’s spirits. Tonight every drop was a tiny dart against his skin. One more complication he’d failed to anticipate.

But the horses threw up their heads and snorted, frolicking like kids in a sprinkler. The bulls lumbered out of the trucks and drew in deep breaths, grunting their appreciation.

“They won’t melt,” Shawnee said, noticing Cole’s expression as she passed by leading Roy and Sooner to their pens.

But they wouldn’t rest. Not like usual.

Raindrops continued to slant across the headlights of the trucks and glisten on bright-yellow slickers as bodies strode in and out of darkness, hauling hay bales and checking water tanks. It was close to two a.m. before everything was fed and settled and the humans began straggling toward their various bunks. Cole watched Shawnee dump grain into buckets for her horses, give them a final pat, and start for her trailer, where Analise was already sleeping. And Cole had Joe rooming with him. But he wanted Shawnee, warm and soft and solid.

A hand clapped on his shoulder. “I’m out,” Joe said. “See you in the morning.”

Cole jerked his gaze away from Shawnee. “What?”

“I’m bunking with Cruz.” Joe grinned at Cole’s confusion. “Give me some credit, buddy.”

Cole didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded. Then he all but sprinted to catch Shawnee. He grabbed her arm to swing her around to face him. “Stay with me,” he blurted.

She hesitated. For the first time he could recall, Shawnee looked indecisive. As if she truly wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. Or she was trying to figure out how to tell him to get lost. Apprehension coiled through his chest. Somehow, he’d done it again. Said or done something wrong without even knowing.

Then her jaw set and her eyes narrowed. “It’s just sex,” she said, so forcefully he blinked.

“Okay.” He would’ve said anything right then if it got Shawnee into his bed.

“Okay.” She reached for the door handle. “I’ll grab my toothbrush and be right over.”

The knot inside him let go in a hot rush of relief. “I’ll wait here.”

When she came out of the trailer carrying nothing but her toothbrush, his thoughts disintegrated. They walked the ten yards to his trailer in silence. He opened the door and held it for her, then moved the dog bed to the tack room and ordered a disgruntled Katie inside. Her malevolent glare promised he’d pay. He made a mental note to keep his clothes picked up and his closets locked for the next year, minimum.

Back inside the living quarters, Shawnee was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. With his toothpaste. He shivered a little at that small intimacy. First his bed. Then his toothpaste. Then…

She came out of the bathroom, walked straight up to him, and pulled him down into a kiss that was cool and minty and hot enough to sear his synapses. “Don’t take your time,” she said, and peeled her shirt off as she walked toward his bed, her bra following close behind.

He practically ripped his clothes off in the rush to wash up and get to her.

But when he stepped out of the bathroom, he stopped dead. So did his heart, for a full beat. She was on her belly, on his bed, naked. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, a few long curls trailing down to nestle in the curve of her lower back, fingering the dimples above her butt. In the soft yellow glow from the light above the sink, the parts of her skin that hadn’t been touched by the sun glowed like a pearl in contrast to her golden-brown arms and legs.

Lord, he was a sucker for a woman with a farmer’s tan.

Music began to play, low and mellow. Shawnee set her phone aside, then propped her head on one hand to tilt an eyebrow at him. “So are you just gonna stand there and stare?”

“Yes.” No. He had to touch her.

She smiled. It broadened into a grin as he stumbled toward her, trying to kick off his underwear without stopping. Even the insistent tap of raindrops on the metal roof of the trailer receded into the distance as she rolled onto her back and exposed every inch of gorgeous nakedness to his greedy eyes.

He forced himself to slow down and slide onto the bed with a little finesse, instead of falling on her like a starving coyote. Then he couldn’t decide where to put his hands first. Breasts were the obvious choice, but it seemed like he should work his way up to that, so he started with her shoulders, shaping the muscles with his palms as he traced her tan line with his thumbs. He bent his head to bury his face in all that fabulous hair. It was damp, smelling of rain and shampoo and wet horses.

“So soft,” he whispered, burrowing in deeper so the curls tickled his face and throat. “I like when you don’t put stuff in it.”

She snorted. “My dragged-through-the-bushes-backward look?”

“You look fine. Besides, I didn’t fall for you ’cuz you’re pretty.”

She jerked away from him, her jaw dropping. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t mean…it isn’t that you’re not…” He screwed up his face, cursing silently as he scrambled for the right words. “I like you better without all that stuff.”

She stared at him for several excruciating seconds. Then she huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.”

“I know.” And he kissed her, because it was a whole lot safer than talking.

And much, much more fun.

He turned his hands loose, letting them roam where they wanted, exploring all those lush curves and valleys while she did the same, until they were both gasping and groaning. She plucked the condom from his fumbling fingers and took her time doing the honors—payback for the “not ’cuz you’re pretty” crack, she said—then shoved him onto his back, straddled his hips, and took him in one smooth, heart-stopping move. But instead of riding him, she lowered herself so she was stretched out full length, her weight pressing him down into the mattress so they were connected, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

Closer than he’d ever been to another human being.

When she began to move, it was an intensely intimate slide of body against body, breath tangled with breath, his hands stroking her back and butt in time with the small, exquisitely slow movements that generated enough friction to heat his blood to boiling and blow his mind into the stratosphere, taking Shawnee along with him.

On the way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, he tossed her one of his T-shirts and grabbed his underwear. When he crawled into bed beside her, she pressed a lazy kiss to his shoulder before rolling away and pulling up the sheet. “If you’re done poking me, Gus, I’m gonna sleep now.”

He laughed at the Lonesome Dove reference, then settled back and listened, cataloging her going to sleep noises—soft rustles and breaths and the quiet creak of the mattress as she got comfortable. Up here in the nose of the trailer, with the ceiling only three feet above his head, the steady tap tap tap of raindrops became more and more of an irritant, as if each struck his own skin. He imagined the horses and bulls hunched against the rain. More hours of rest lost…

Nothing you can do about it. He tried to concentrate on the sound of Shawnee’s breathing instead, waiting…waiting…

When she hadn’t stirred for a full two minutes, he eased his hand over until his pinky finger found skin. A tiny point of contact, like a ground wire. More minutes passed as he focused his entire being on that one warm spot. It was almost enough.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” He jerked as Shawnee flung onto her back. “Roll over.”

Cole tugged his arm from underneath her. “Why?”

“Let it be known that I only cuddle in emergencies. And being the inside spoon makes me claustrophobic, so roll over.”

He did. She wrapped one arm around him, spread her palm over his heart, and burrowed in close, a miracle of warm, silky flesh curled around him. Once again, she literally had his back.

“Listen to the bass,” she ordered.

He focused on the music still spilling from her phone, picking out the bass line and following it like a winding trail into a shady summer forest. Cole smiled as her breath tickled the nape of his neck. He was nearly asleep when he realized he’d told Shawnee that he had fallen for her.

Oh shit.

Then another, deeper warmth blossomed in his chest. He’d told her…and she was still here.