Destiny Wears Spurs (5 page)

“Well, you’re a regular chatterbox. How do you mend a fence, anyway?” Like she hadn’t been watching him do just that all morning, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She peered into his smoky-gray, bedroom eyes--all sleepy-looking and half-open--then lost her train of thought.

“Better eat your sandwich before the flies get at it.”

“What? Oh, right.” She snapped out of her dreamy state, and heat surged to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. What did you say about the fence?” She took a bite of her ham and Swiss, feeling like a teenage girl on her first date. Only this wasn’t a “date”, she reminded herself.
Focus
.

“Nothin’ much to it. We pound wooden fence posts into the ground and then string barbed wire between them.” He finished the last bite of his roast beef as his gaze roamed over her features, and his brow creased.

She looked at him and tucked a corkscrew piece of hair behind her ear. “What can I do to help? You said you wanted someone who’s hands-on. I can be hands-on.”

He coughed. “Yeah, but I’m sure this isn’t what you bargained for.”

“What better way to learn about your business, right? And I can do chores. How hard can they be?”

“Right.” He grabbed her hand and ran his thumb across the skin she’d just put lotion on. “Obviously harder than the chores you’ve been doing.”

She pulled her hand free and tucked it under her thigh. “I’m a quick learner, and I’ll do anything you say.”

“Right. Well, let’s see. Bobby usually does the work in the stables ... but his grandmother got sick, so he has to go help her. If you think you can handle it, you can take over his chores for the rest of the summer.”

“The stables?” She chewed her bottom lip. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but okay. I promise I won’t let you down. Just tell me what to do, and it’s done.”

“Trust me,” she scoffed, “barn duty is the last thing on my mind. What I really want is to play with--” She jammed the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth to prevent the rest of her sentence from slipping out.

Think, think, think
.

Chewing like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, she polished off her mouthful. “What I mean is I can’t wait to play around with some ideas for your campaign. Working on the ranch is one way to get those creative juices flowing,” she said in a rush, relieved only those words emerged.

She had a tendency to say what was on her mind without thinking. Another reason she wasn’t CEO material. It wasn’t like she could say,
Hey, stud, I don’t want to work for you, I want to play with you
. Since that possibility was out of the question, she had to keep a lock on her loose lips. But a small part of her began picturing what it would be like to press those same loose lips tightly to his.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said.

Her whole body jerked. Did she speak out loud again? Lord only knew with her track record. If she had, maybe he thought her loose lips had let slip the slogan for his ranch. Now, if she could only think of a slogan for play, maybe she could salvage her lunch meeting.

“Right, uh, come play with my toy,” she blurted just as he lifted his water jug to take a swig.

“Huh?” A spray of water flew out of his mouth, and he gaped at her, choking.

Okay, maybe she
hadn’t
spoken out loud a moment ago. Great. Now, how was she going to backpedal her way out of this latest disaster? “Um, my boy toy.
Cowboy
toy. Toys. Cowboy toys.” She gestured wildly with her hands, trying to think of something. Anything.

“What in God’s name are you talking about, woman?” He swiped the dribble from his chin with the back of his hand, recapping the jug of water.

“Come play with my cowboy toys, um, here at Rafferty’s Remote Ranch?” She smiled weakly. “Just brainstorming again.”

“That’s your slogan?”

“Yeah, you know, cowboy toys. Saddles, spurs, ropes,” a long sigh slipped past her lips, and she shivered slightly, “leather, muscles, sweat ....”
Oops
.

His mouth hung open and eyes scrunched up in a horrified expression. “I think you’d better storm someone else’s brain,” he sputtered. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Kidding. Right. That’s me, always the jokester.” Had she really come up with such an awful slogan again? God, she hated this. No one in his right mind would make her CEO of any company. If she weren’t so worried her father would lose everything, she’d tell him that. But the stubborn man wouldn’t listen, forcing her to ask--no, ‘beg’--him for a chance to prove herself capable. She was capable, all right.

Capable of acting like a complete moron.

“This is a family ranch. Didn’t your father tell you?”

“Family ranch. Got it. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
Liar
. But dreaming about what she wanted to do with this cowboy wasn’t the best inspiration for coming up with a “family” ranch slogan.

Cody glanced over to the tree. Monica’s gaze followed suit. His men had eaten their lunch there, but they were gone, probably back to work in another part of the pasture.

Picking up the trash around him, he stood. “Lunch is over.”

“Okay.” She gathered her trash and uncrossed her legs. Millions of tiny pinpricks shot through her thighs, then her calves, continuing right down to her toes. Sitting pretzel-style in crisp new designer jeans and too-tight boots hadn’t been such a good idea. She stifled a cry.

“New might be in, but those sure as hell aren’t
broken
in. It’s a wonder you can walk.”

“Oh, please, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?”

“Whatever you say.” He got up, but didn’t offer her his hand, just stared at her with that annoying arched brow.

She struggled to her feet and took a step, but her knees gave out. Letting out a yelp, she floundered and her trash flew everywhere. Panicking, she grabbed onto the closest thing.

His waist.

She froze with her arms wrapped around his middle and her face buried in his center. Feeling returned to her limbs, but his wide, sculpted chest held her attention. It felt like hugging Paul Bunyan.

With her nose and mouth mashed against his hard pecs, she inhaled his musky scent and sighed dreamily. His pecs twitched, and she gasped, mortified. Lord, she had to stop acting on impulse. She couldn’t look at him. He didn’t say a word, but his chest began to rise and fall a little faster. The trash he held fluttered to the ground as he gripped her shoulders and brought her to her feet.

Feeling ridiculous, she lifted her gaze until it locked with his. He stared at her with intense eyes and that same creased brow, then his mouth swooped down to cover hers. His fingers tightened on her shoulders, and he pulled her closer.

What is he doing? Duh. He’s kissing you, dimwit
.

Oh, Lord, she couldn’t think straight. A shiver rippled down her spine, and she ceased to think at all as his mouth worked magic on hers. His lips moved back and forth like an artist’s brush stroking the canvas, softly, carefully.

The air sizzled. Her lips burned hot and tingly, and her stomach pitched. She’d never felt that when Wendell had kissed her, and she’d been engaged to the man.

She should stop Cody. God, did she have to?

His fingertips slid up to her neck and his thumb dipped into the hollow of her throat, then he broke away for air. She couldn’t stand it. Wise or not, she had to have more. Throwing her arms around his neck, she locked her lips onto his once more, surprising him, but only for a moment.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips. Opening for him, she slipped her tongue out to circle his. He plunged deep, robbing her of her breath for an endless moment of ecstasy.

Suddenly, Cody’s eyes flew open an inch from hers, with their noses still touching. He blinked, came out of his daze, and jerked back, looking stunned. Clearing his throat, he shoved a shaky hand through his hair and couldn’t quite meet her eyes as he took a step back.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” He coughed, darting a glance toward the tree again.

Monica followed his gaze, glad his men were still gone and hadn’t seen him kiss her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him to kiss her again. “Don’t be. I’m not,” she whispered, touching her fingertips to her lips and immediately regretted those words. He was her client. She wasn’t supposed to be glad he kissed her, but damn if she wasn’t.

His eyes flicked to her mouth and held, his jaw clenched, and he strode away to join his men without another word.

She sat down, heart pounding. It was either that or fall down. What had gotten into him? She hadn’t even though he liked her. Her mind felt as rubbery as the rest of her body from the first touch of his firm lips. Soft and slow and delicious, over and over and over until she’d melted into a puddle of desire right in front of him.

“Yum-yum” didn’t begin to describe how he’d tasted. She licked her lips and groaned, falling back onto the soft green grass. His taste lingered. Lord help her she was in big trouble now.

* * *

The next morning, Cody stared up the hill with Babe quietly munching grass beside him. He’d grant Monica five more minutes, and then he’d ride out to join his men. Yesterday, he’d come up with what he thought would be the perfect plan. Barn duty.

He knew she would insist on accompanying him out on the range if she thought that was where the “toughest” work was. She’d be right, but he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.

He would do whatever it took to keep her from being a distraction. She couldn’t hold her own on a horse--a must when working with cattle--and cattle spooked easily. Knowing her, she’d fall off and get trampled. Working in the stables wasn’t child’s play, either.

He glanced up the hill again, wondering what was taking her so long. Maybe he’d pushed her too hard yesterday. She’d never ridden a horse, and he hadn’t exactly given her the gentlest of rides. Why did she have to be so small? The moment he’d realized she was “Mo,” he’d known she’d never survive the summer on the cattle ranch.

“Shoot, she didn’t even last a day,” he mumbled to his horse, and felt a twinge of disappointment that she’d quit. “Well, this is what I wanted.”

Cody laughed and shook his head. “Well, it’s for the best.” Yesterday, he’d made a huge mistake. One minute they were talking about work, and the next she was yammering on about playing with her “cowboy toy,” or some such nonsense. If that was her idea of a slogan for his ranch, no wonder her father was pulling the wool over her eyes. Well, at least Cody wouldn’t be lying when he had to say he didn’t like her campaign.

He frowned, still uncomfortable with deceiving her.

In the meantime, he needed to avoid her until her time ended, or she quit, whichever came first. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her yesterday. Christ, that was a stupid thing to do, but he wasn’t a goddamn saint. She’d been as clumsy as a newborn foal falling into his arms, but when she’d pressed her lips against his nipple, hell, he’d just about lost it then and there.

Electricity. Pure, raw, and more powerful than a swig of his ranch cook’s homemade moonshine. He groaned. Dammit. He liked his life just the way it was. A bit predictable, a bit boring, but nobody got hurt. He never should have touched her, because he couldn’t get the rose-petal softness of her cheek out of his head. He licked his lips and cursed. The honeysuckle taste of her insisted on sticking around.

“Where the hell is she?” he snapped.

Babe whinnied.

Cody walked a few yards and scanned the hill one last time. No Monica. Looked like the new guy--rather, “gal,”--was late. Cursing a blue streak, he shoved his Stetson down low on his head and stormed over to his stallion, kicking up dust with his boot heels. “Come on, Babe. We’ve got work to do.”

“Okay, babe. I’m ready when you are.”

Cody whipped around, and his heart jumped in his throat at the sight of Monica. He had wondered if it would be even more awkward between them now that they’d kissed, but she seemed happy to see him. Unable to deny he was glad to see her too, he did his best to cover it. She stood there with a bright smile on her face, looking absolutely wonderful.

Wonderful!

Fury filled him. She had some nerve showing up late. To think he’d spent all last night feeling guilty over the part he’d played in her imagined discomfort. After the wild rides she’d taken on the backs of Snoozer and Babe, he’d thought she’d be sore as hell today. What a joke. She looked fit as a fiddle. What happened to, ‘I promise I won’t let you down. Tell me what to do, and it’s done?’