Cowboy Crushin' (Dalton Boys Book 3) (9 page)

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Now I know how you sound when you come. How you taste. And it only makes me more determined to give you every pleasure I can.”

Her eyelids fluttered at his words.

He leaned over her, putting those big callused hands on her bared torso and gliding them up to cup her breasts. “Now you can lie here with me and talk about your dreams or I can make you scream again.” He waggled his brows, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“This grass is getting scratchy on my butt.”

His chuckle warmed her soul. “Can’t have that.” He found his abandoned shirt and made her lift her hips so he could place it under her. Then while she talked about how she was finished with bad relationships and making stupid choices, he teased her breasts, kissed her belly. And when she confessed how happy she was that he’d fetched her and Alex and brought them to the ranch, he claimed her with his fingers—showing her ecstasy all over again.

“Big day ahead of us, boy. Up into that saddle you go.” Witt hoisted Alex into the saddle of their calmest horse. With the child riding ahead of him for this cattle roundup, he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Can I hold the reins?” Alex asked.

“Not yet. Let me get in the saddle behind you and after a spell, I’ll let you have the reins.”

“Yippee!” Alex’s squeal sent Beck’s horse into a bucking fit.

His brother held on with one hand, using the other to balance himself as the animal whipped him. Hank and Cash whooped with laughter and Kade shook his head.

“Are we gonna do that?” Alex asked Witt.

“Absolutely not.” He slid into the saddle behind the boy and tugged him against his chest to give him a stable seat. Wrapping the reins around his gloved fist, he said to Alex, “Now the way you get him moving is important. You don’t want to frighten him or he’ll take off or throw you. I want you to click to him nice and low, like this.” He clicked.

Alex imitated him.

“A little louder, son.”

Alex made the noise again and the horse started moving. Giggles of glee burst from Alex as they made their way across the field. Witt’s brothers caught up to him.

Hank’s smile was wide when he trotted up. “Having a good time?”

“The best! Witt’s awesome with horses.”

“He is. Witt’s one of the best Daltons with animals. You’re mighty lucky to be riding with Witt. I can’t wait to get my son in the saddle.”

“He’s just a baby,” Alex scoffed.

“Yeah, but he already has his first pair of cowboy boots. So he’ll be ready when the time comes.”

As Hank and Alex bantered back and forth, Witt’s mind wandered back to the house—and to Shelby. He could still smell her on his fingers though he’d washed several times. He loved having her essence soaked into his pores. When she’d screamed her last orgasm, he’d scooped her against him and swallowed her cries.

The temperatures seemed to rise about twenty degrees. He turned his attention to the talk.

“See that herd up ahead? They’ve been grazing a long time,” Cash said to Alex.

The boy nodded, his head thumping Witt’s chest. His heart blossomed with warmth.

“It’s time to get the cows out of the pastures and into the chute.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a tunnel of sorts. We ride all in a row and let the horses push the cows into the chute. Then they are stuck in a pen,” Witt explained.

“Bet they don’t like that.”

They probably didn’t like being loaded on a truck and made into someone’s steak dinner either, but Witt wasn’t ready to tell Alex that. He’d been worried enough about the pork the other night. If the boy spent a little more time on the ranch, he’d learn the ways soon enough.

Witt wanted him on the ranch more—and his mother.

The next few hours were spent herding the cows down the valley, zigzagging his horse behind to get all the strays into the group. Alex accepted the reins and took his part very seriously. He did a fair job and needed little instruction after the first few minutes.

“Let me have the reins now, son. We’re gonna push them inside the fence.”

“Okay.” He passed the reins. “Why do you keep calling me son? I’m not.”

His throat tightened painfully. He focused on the task and tried to forget the feeling of being tied in knots. He wanted this kid in his life as much as Shelby. He’d fallen for both of them, dammit.

With two people to love, the stakes were higher. If he won them, his life would be full and rich. If the worst happened, he’d hurt twice as bad.

Witt yipped a few times to direct the horse. It didn’t do his bidding, so he gave it a tap of his spurs. When it didn’t respond, he trilled his tongue.

All hell broke loose. Thousand-pound animals scattered, the horse whirled. Alex tipped out of the saddle and Witt lashed out. When his fist closed around the boy’s shirt front, adrenaline smacked his system. He yanked Alex up and found him covered in blood.

“Kade, clear my way!”

Assessing the situation in a blink, Kade used his animal to separate the herd. Witt locked an arm around Alex’s middle and rode hell-bent for the house. He barely reined up before he jumped off, Alex in his arms.

“Shelby! Momma!” He didn’t know how bad Alex’s injuries were, but he had to get him to people who could help.

The women burst onto the front porch. Heart a wild bronco in his chest, Witt stomped up the steps with Alex. Blood drained from Shelby’s face and she swayed.

Witt thrust the boy into his mother’s hold and caught Shelby before she went down. She bent over and vomited. The sickness splashed his boots and he reached for her honey-brown locks before she let loose again.

“Take care of her, Witt. I’ve got Alex. He’s okay—looks like a cut lip. I’ll take him inside.” Momma carried Alex past.

Shelby almost tipped over. With one arm around her hips, Witt kept her on her feet while she emptied her stomach. She panted.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Alex…”

“He’s all right. Momma says it’s a cut lip and wounds like that bleed like the devil. She probably has him fixed up and eating cookies already. I’m more worried about you.” He scooped her against his chest. Her arms were weak around his neck and her cheek clammy.

He took her into the kitchen, which had always served as the ER when he was a kid. Here Momma had patched up Witt and his brothers more times than he could count.

Alex sat having the blood wiped off his face.

“Looks bad but it’s not. See?” Momma pulled the cloth away to reveal a split lip—deep enough to bleed like hell but it didn’t need stitches.

“Set me down, Witt.” Shelby’s voice was reedy.

“She’s had a shock. Put her in the chair, Witt, or she’ll pass out.”

“What a terrible mother I am, reacting that way when I saw my baby hurt.”

Witt placed her gently on the seat and she reached for Alex’s hands. The boy blinked at her, less pale than she was by far.

Looking between them, Witt replayed the events and tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. They’d been on the calmest horse. It shouldn’t have reacted to the cattle’s quick movements.

“It’s my fault. I made a noise the animals didn’t take well to. They started pushing and our horse spun. Alex fell out of the saddle, and I caught him before he hit the ground. Must have smashed his mouth when he fell.”

Alex tried to talk around the wet towel pressed to his lip. “Why di eee do at?”

“Some animals don’t like certain noises, and one of those cows must not have liked the sound I made.”

“Disss one?” He made the trilling noise and Shelby made a noise that was part laugh, part sob.

Witt slid a hand around her nape. She was still cool to the touch but some of the color was returning to her face. Witt bent and pressed his lips above her ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Witt…why?” Confusion knitted her long brows.

“He was in my charge. You trusted me to keep him safe.”

Alex pulled the towel—and Momma’s hand—away from his face. “I’m okay. But Mom looks terrible.”

She laughed with more strength. Witt fetched her some lemonade and ordered her to drink it all before trying to stand. By the time she’d drained the glass and Alex had downed a cup of milk and two gingersnaps, Witt finally felt the tightness in his chest ease.

Shelby pushed aside the glass and got to her feet. “I have to clean the porch. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Oh no, you won’t. I’ll take the hose to it in a few. You sit with Alex.” He sent Momma a look, and astute as always, she made excuses about the load of laundry and left the kitchen.

The clock above the stove ticked and the refrigerator whirred. Witt pulled up a chair so the three of them were huddled together. “You’re okay, son?”

Alex nodded and grinned around a mouthful of crumbs. “These’re good.”

“The best.” Witt patted Alex’s shoulder and turned his attention to Shelby. “And you?”

She covered her face with her hands. “That’s never happened before to me. I’ve never gotten sick at the sight of blood.”

“Maybe because it wasn’t coming from your son. Sweetheart, please forgive me.” He gathered her face in his hands and brushed his lips over her crinkled forehead.

“Nothing to forgive, Witt. How can you think that? You’ve done so much for us.”

Their gazes met for a long heartbeat, making him wish like hell they were alone.

“Who puked on the porch? Is the boy okay?” Beck called from the front of the house.

The tips of Shelby’s ears tuned red.

Witt chuckled. “I’ll clean that now. You stay with Alex.”

She caught his hand before he walked away. Her eyes were wide and clear. Last night they’d grown almost black in the moonlight before she’d thrashed in bliss under his touch.

He hardened.

“Witt, thank you.”

“You never really bond with somebody until you hold their hair while they puke.”

From the doorway, Beck issued a laugh and clomped into the kitchen. “Hey boy, share some of those gingersnaps with me.” He raised his chin to Witt. “I’ll take care of your woman.”

As Witt went outside to clean the porch, he shook his head at the situation. In a matter of half an hour, he’d run a gamut of emotions. From terror to tenderness to burning with need.

It was inevitable—he was going to fight for Shelby and Alex. More than ever he knew his course.

Darkness had descended slowly over the fields of Paradise Valley, making one thing at a time vanish—distant cattle herd, outbuilding, barn. Shelby let the calm settle over her and she snuggled deeper into Witt’s heavy barn jacket. It smelled of him and her body reacted with fierce need.

The things he’d done to her the previous night in the field…she couldn’t stop reliving the moments. Had she ever known such strong releases? No, not even when she was in lust with Vonny.

Automatically she fished her phone from her back pocket and looked at the messages.

A dark rumble sounded near her ear. “No cell service here.” Witt sank to the Adirondack chair next to hers and stared into the fire. The rest of the Daltons were gathered around, talking and laughing. Beck strummed a guitar.

She looked at Witt’s profile, aware of the hard set of his lips and the way he was avoiding her gaze. He was upset with her.

Unsure how to breach the gap, she returned her attention to her cell and thumbed to the next message, which was a text she’d received from an old boyfriend she’d run into before leaving her hometown. He’d asked her to look him up when she came home for a visit.

Witt’s hand closed around hers and he plucked the phone from her fingers. She could barely issue a gasp when he tossed it.

She watched the device arc through the darkness toward the fire.

“Holy crap, bro, what’d you throw in there?” Beck asked from the opposite side of the flames, never missing a chord of his song.

“Cell phone.” His tone was deep and brooding. It raised shivers all over Shelby’s body and made her throb between her legs. But it also pissed her off.

“Why did you do that?” She jumped up and started toward the flames to retrieve her phone.

He hooked her around the middle and hauled her back. “Don’t you touch it. In fact, come with me.” He started walking, towing her along like a naughty puppy. She ground her teeth together but waited until he stopped some distance from the fire and their voices would be muffled by a round hay bale.

She set her hands on her hips. “Who do you think you are?”

“The man who’s sick of you waiting for other men to text you. Last night when you were talking, you said you were finished with bad relationships.” His face was stony in the dim lighting from the moon.

“I’m not looking for the texts because I
want
those men.”

“No?”

“No! Witt, I dread seeing another text. I hate having men who won’t take no for an answer. They just keep pursuing me, plaguing my life. They call, text, try to get dates and make promises I don’t want. I’m trying to control them, and the only way I can do that is to tell them I’m not interested.”

“Is that so?” He crowded her against the hay, his big body heating her from head to toe. She looked into his eyes looming so close. His lips closer. She swallowed hard.

What were they talking about? She couldn’t remember anything but his kisses. The cowboy was the best kisser she’d ever known and her body screamed for more. Nipples straining, panties flooding.

“I’d say I’m sorry about your phone, but I’m not.”

“Is that so?” she mimicked him and was rewarded with a crook of his lips. She drowned in desire.

“Yeah,” he drawled, leaning closer until their lips were a breath apart. “Call me jealous but I want you all to myself. Especially when you’re on my ranch and when I can still taste you.”

A full-body shiver racked her as she conjured images of him licking his fingers clean after she’d come on them.

“I want to taste you properly, but I need to know there’s something between us. Something closer to what I want from you.”