__________

Maria

I SHIFT UNCOMFORTABLY in the chair. Ranger is only a few inches from me now, close enough for me to smell his masculine scent: the outdoors, hay, desire. He’s perched himself leaning his behind against the edge of the table, and I think the desire part might be mine, but the way he’s been talking, the way he’s been acting, I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one.

Being so near to him makes me feel even smaller, and he looks even bigger. He’s one of the largest men I’ve ever been this close to. I fight the urge to glance down, but my eyes have a mind of their own, landing on the zipper of his Levi’s... I swear it’s filled out more than is polite.

Embarrassed, I quickly look away at the wall where there are family pictures hanging in a bundle. Some are old, sepia-toned, and others have what must be Ranger and his parents outside this very house with another young man I assume is a brother. They’re all smiling in every one. And in every one, Ranger has a black cowboy hat on his head, always at the exact same angle. I’m sure it’s the same hat he was wearing when I arrived at the farm.

The kitchen is lit by a ceiling light, making the canary-yellow walls almost garish. The paint looks like it’s been here a while. It has that rich, thick tone that only comes from the buildup of layers as it’s retouched over time. It contrasts starkly with the outside, where the world is cast in an odd grayish green so that barely any sunlight penetrates the single kitchen window. I swallow hard and pull on my fingers while he talks to my dad for the second time this afternoon. It’s nearing three o’clock now, and the rain is picking up again on the windows, drowning out the soft ticking of the wall clock.

“Yes, sir.” Ranger’s eyes are on mine as he talks to my father on his cell. “Jasper County weather service issued a tornado warning until midnight. Sheriff’s department says Route 6 is flooded over, no passing, and lines are down all over.” His voice hits the low notes, and he draws his eyebrows together as he regards me.

He nods a few times then hands me the phone. My father’s voice comes through.

“Hey, baby. I’m fine here. The truck, on the other hand, not so good. Branch came off that huge oak by the driveway, straight down over the hood. You okay there? Another line of the storm coming through. Tornado siren going off again over this way. I think you should hunker down there. I’m okay here. Don’t want to risk you traveling in this.”

As Ranger stares at me intently, I drop my eyes. My clothes are filthy from sitting and sweating in that chicken coop. I lift my glass to my lips and take a long drink of the sweet, cold liquid, trying to quell the heat that is rising in my core.

He’s still wearing his denim shirt, and although he’s secured the bottom button, it’s still showing off the world’s most perfect chest. Just enough hair covers cut, square pecs that lead down to the indents of a six-pack that leaves me struggling for breath.

I find myself licking my lips and clearing my throat over and over, certain my discomfort is providing Ranger with an ego boost I’m sure he doesn’t need.

“As soon as it clears...” I hear myself mutter as Ranger reaches over and casually twists a length of my hair between his fingers, sending a shiver through my body that visibly shakes my shoulders. “Ranger says the storm shelter has outlasted a hundred years of weather out here. I’m fine.”

All logical parts of my brain tell me I should swat his hand away. I should be frightened to stay the night in this hunky cowboy stranger’s home. But I’m not. I’m strangely calm about it. Even excited, if I’m honest.

Dad assures me he’s okay again. “Let’s wait it out, honey. That’s all we can do. Got to get used to this sort of thing out here. Call again in a few hours to check in, but I think you’re safer there for tonight. With the power out and the lines down, it’s not much fun over here, and nothing you could do even if you risked it.”

I empty the rest of the sweet tea into my mouth and set my glass down on the table. Stay the night. That thought makes me press my thighs together just to stop the tingling.

With a deep, settling breath, I say goodbye and click off, handing the phone to Ranger’s waiting open hand. My panties are soaked just by being this close to this cowboy. I’m pretty sure if I wiggle just right, press my legs together just enough, I’d probably come right now only from looking at him.

The look in his eyes tells me he is quite pleased with something. I amuse myself with the idea that maybe he knows I’m on the verge of a spontaneous orgasm.

As I stare up at Ranger leaning next to me against the edge of the kitchen table, he shifts, adjusting himself as he repositions his body. I fight not to look at his crotch again, instead focusing on his face, the curl of dark hair around the backs of his ears, the peppering of dark scruff along his jaw.

“My dad’s okay, at least,” I manage.

“Yep. You will be too.” He nods, reaching up to take off his hat and set it on top of a stack of Horse & Rider magazines, then leans forward, his eyes first on my lips, then meeting my gaze squarely, unafraid. “And I mean it. More than you could know.”

He runs a hand over his jaw, gripping it so the tendons in his forearm are forced to flex. The veins shift and move under skin that’s decorated with just the right amount of dark hair. For the first time in my life, I understand the term “arm porn” because the orgasm that is threatening to break sends a clench into my gut.

He reaches over and brushes a rough thumb on my cheek, smoothing away sandy grit that’s attached itself to my face.

“Shower’s down the hall.” He tips his head in that direction. “Plenty of hot water. Lots of water pressure. And I’ll grab you one of my T-shirts if you’d like to get cleaned up. Be longer than that dress on you, you are such a wisp of a thing.” He shakes his head with a smile that shows off the sexiest white teeth I’ve ever seen.

“Uhhh...” I stammer.

A shower sounds amazing, but I hesitate. I draw a shoulder toward my ear.

“I’m a gentleman, Maria.” He must have picked up on my tension because his voice is soft and reassuring. “I’m not going to lie and tell you I don’t want you more than I want my next breath. But I’m just talking about a shower right now. I know sittin’ in that coop in ninety-degree weather, then running through the dust back here to the house, has left you a bit gritty.” That thumb moves down, and he pinches my chin, leaning my head back to look up.

He stands, running his other hand gently down my arm, leaving billions of tiny earthquakes where his fingers trail, and I stare up at him like a starstruck little kid.

For a moment, a vision plays out in my mind’s eye... There’s me in a cotton dress and white apron, standing outside this very house, and Ranger is moving toward me from the barn. He’s dressed in a black T-shirt, black jeans, caramel-colored suede chaps. And of course, he has that black hat on his head, set at just the right angle. My belly flips and tumbles at the fantasy. He’s coming home, and that’s not a place; it’s me. I am his home.

I startle at the sound of his voice.

“I’ll go set out a T-shirt and towel. You come on along in a minute. I’ll get the shower good and hot for you.” With that, the sound of his boots on the rough floor fills the kitchen as he disappears down the hall, leaving me liquefied.