Her Cowboy Lover (Pleasure Ridge Ranch) (3 page)

He did laugh then and pushed part of her loose hair behind her ear. When he reached to caress her cheek, she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his instead. Gradually, the combination of their lovemaking and the long day of travel started to tug on her, making her eyes droop. She really should send Connor on his way, but she couldn’t form the words. It felt so good to be held in a man’s warm embrace, one who expected nothing from her beyond what she was willing to give.

She’d rest, just for a little while. Then maybe they could work on seeing how many more times he could bring her to completion before dawn arrived.

* * * *

Lily awoke with her heart pounding and panic in full bloom. The darkness nearly suffocated her. Why was it so dark? What lurked in the dark? Matthew Macon? Was he here to finish what he’d started that day at the gallery?

She sat up so quickly her head spun. The sound of breathing next to her sent a fresh surge of panic washing through her veins. She jerked that direction, and the first sliver of rational thought broke through the panic.

Connor. The man she’d had sex with. A man she didn’t know. One she knew less than even Matthew Macon.

She turned away from him and became intensely aware of her nakedness. Somewhere in the dark room lay her clothes. She’d allowed what Macon had done to her to bring her to this, to hiring a man who was no more than a whore and having wild sex cloaked in darkness and shame.

She blinked against tears as she slid from the bed. She barely held them at bay until she could close herself in the bathroom. But once inside, they fell down her cheeks when she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. What had she been thinking, coming here? How had she convinced herself this would be okay?

Frustrated, she swiped at the tears. When she felt the tight length of the scar on the right side of her face, she sucked in a ragged breath. She would give everything she had if she could go back three years and not go to the gallery that day.

But what was done was done. There was no going back. She walked to the sink, and when she looked in the mirror she realized that the first hint of daylight was turning the darkness into a faint gray light. She and Connor had slept all night. She’d known she was tired, but evidently he had been, too. She didn’t care to think about why he might be so exhausted.

Lily lifted her hand and ran her fingertips over the length of the scar, the thing that didn’t allow her to fade into a crowd, to fade from the public’s memory. More tears slipped from her eyes, and she sniffed. She had to find a way to get past what Macon had done to her, to be happy again.

And being here at this ranch with a stranger wasn’t it.

* * * *

At first, Connor wasn’t sure what had woken him. He blinked a few times, coming out of what felt like a very deep sleep. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before realizing he could see it. A new day was dawning, and he realized he should have left long before now. He swung to sit on the side the bed, and that’s when he realized what had pulled him from sleep.

He turned to face the closed bathroom door. If he wasn’t mistaken, Lily was crying on the other side. Had he hurt her? Pushed her to do something she wasn’t ready to do? He rubbed his hand over his face before standing and walking toward the bathroom.

"Lily?"

She didn’t answer, but she’d heard him because the sniffling stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine."

The catch in her voice told him otherwise.

"Are you sure?" He lifted his hand and flattened his palm against the door. "Did I hurt you?"

Again, she hesitated, and his heart dropped to his ankles.

"No, I’m fine, really," she said. "I just need you to go."

He opened his mouth, wanting to do something to make up for whatever had made her cry. But she was a ranch guest, and it was his job to do what she asked. He lowered his hand and crossed the room, retrieving his clothes as he went. Once he was dressed, he knew he couldn’t just leave without saying something else, one last effort to make things right. He approached the bathroom door again.

"Lily, I’m leaving."

"Okay."

"If...if I did something wrong, I’m sorry. You can call Heidi, and she can send someone else or refund your money."

Lily didn’t say anything in response, and her silence weighed on him. But it was time to go, so that’s what he did. When he stepped out into the dim early light, he stopped and looked up at the sky, at the thin sliver of moon still visible even though the increasing light had hidden the stars. He felt older and more worn down than he had after being broken during his last rodeo ride.

He took a deep breath and came to a realization. He couldn’t do this anymore. Down deep, he’d known it for a long time. But hearing a woman he’d been with cry, that was the last straw. He’d finish out the week, spend time with Lily if by some miracle she wanted to be with him again. But that was it. He had no idea how he was going to make a living, but this just wasn’t him. He’d tried to make himself believe it was, but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

As the dim gray light started taking on some hints of orange and pink, he spotted a patch of yellow wildflowers on the other side of the gravel driveway. His boots crunched the gravel as he strode toward them. Bending over, he picked a dozen of the prettiest blooms then carried them back to the porch. Not wanting to invade her privacy, he simply laid them next to the front door.

He sighed as he looked down at them, wondering if they would wilt before she found them. Remembering he had a half-consumed bottle of water in the truck, he hurried to retrieve it and place the flowers’ stems inside. It was a pitiful offering, but he hoped it showed her more than his words how sorry he was that her first night at the ranch hadn’t been what she’d hoped.

Connor headed for his truck, a million questions and the heavy burden of responsibility trying their best to break him more than that bull ever had.

* * * *

Lily waited until she heard Connor’s truck drive away before she got in the shower and washed away the evidence of the night before, her tear tracks and the remnants of her little pity party. She was determined to have a good day. If she got nothing else out of this trip, she was going to enjoy the peace and quiet to paint.

After she got dressed and made herself French toast and bacon for breakfast, she headed outside to retrieve the blank canvases she’d brought. Today, she was going to capture the lovely view from her porch. The surface of the lake reflecting the impossibly blue sky, the native plants hugging the lake’s banks, the mountains in the distance.

When she stepped out the front door, her foot bumped into something. She looked down to see water spilling across the porch from a plastic bottle. Her breath caught when she noticed the flowers lying in the puddle. She bent and snatched them up before all of the water flowed out.

Up close, she realized they were a daisy-like flower with soft yellow petals. She stroked one of the petals and smiled at its simple, soft beauty. Her heart squeezed a little at Connor’s thoughtfulness. When she thought back to how he’d sounded as he’d spoken to her through the bathroom door, she didn’t think he’d faked it. He might not know her, had never seen her, would likely never talk to her again after this week, but there was a genuine kindness about him. She didn’t have to look into his eyes to know that.

And she’d let him leave thinking he’d done something wrong. She looked down the driveway, but he was long gone. Would he come back? She found she wanted him to, at least long enough so she could assure him that he really hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t to blame for her hang-ups.

The phone in the cabin rang, and she hurried inside to answer it. She tried not to think about how much she wanted it to be Connor.

"Hello?"

"Lily, this is Heidi. I called to see if there’s anything I can do for you today."

Something about Heidi’s voice told Lily this wasn’t a call that the ranch’s proprieter made to every guest after their first night’s stay.

"You talked to Connor."

"Yes, he said that you might be leaving or that you perhaps would like me to send someone else."

Lily placed the bottle of flowers on the countertop and imagined this man she couldn’t even picture picking them for her, all because he’d felt guilty about something he hadn’t even done.

"He didn’t do anything wrong. I...I guess I’m still dealing with something that just got to me this morning. It had nothing to do with Connor. Please tell him that."

"So you don’t want to see him again?"

"No. Wait, I mean yes, I’d like for him to come back tonight." She swallowed, embarrassed even though she’d never met Heidi. "Maybe just to talk though. Would he be okay with that?"

"You’re the guest."

Lily understood the ranch’s policy, but something about what Heidi said didn’t sit right. It was as if Connor and his feelings didn’t matter. And the fact that he’d left her this simple bouquet told her that he was a man with feelings. He wasn’t just a sexual plaything.

Then how had he ended up here doing what he did? And why was she so interested in the story behind the man who’d honestly given her the best orgasm she’d had in her life?

Once the call was over, she headed back outside to work on a painting. But after several minutes of trying to make the scenic view work, she gave up and simply stared at the mountains in the distance. She found herself wishing for nightfall. The need to talk to Connor, to tell him herself that everything was okay pulled at her.

Sometimes she wondered if Matthew Macon had damaged more than her face, if he’d broken something inside of her that would never heal. Was that why she’d thought making love to a stranger in the dark would magically make everything better? Was that why she couldn’t stop thinking about that stranger? Macon had done her psychological harm, so the last thing she wanted to do was do that to someone else.

She shook her head. What in the world made her think that anything she could do would cause damage to a man like Connor? She doubted guys who were fragile went into this line of work.

Giving up on being creative for the moment, she headed inside for a glass of lemonade. When she spotted the flowers, inspiration struck. Forgoing the lemonade, she grabbed the bottle of wildflowers and took them outside. After placing them back in the spot where Connor had left them, she retraced her steps back to her work area. She replaced the lifeless canvas with a fresh one and mixed paint until she got just the right shade of yellow.

Something came alive in her as she painted, making her smile as she put just the right curve on a petal. When she realized how different she felt now than when she’d been hiding in the bathroom waiting for Connor to leave, she stopped and stared at the partially completed painting then at the bouquet that had inspired it. Why had such a simple gesture, one that could possibly have been calculated to keep her happy so he didn’t have a ding on his job record, changed her attitude so much?

Maybe because it was so simple, so kind and thoughtful. Maybe because for some reason she couldn’t believe that he hadn’t meant anything self-serving by leaving it by her front door. Why she felt that about a man she didn’t even know, she had no idea. But she did. Something about how he’d treated her the night before, how he’d sounded genuinely concerned that morning, told her he was a good person.

And she couldn’t very well judge him for his job when she was the one paying him to do it.

She leaned back slowly in her chair and placed her paints and paintbrush aside. What in the world was she going to do for the rest of the week? Did she want to talk to Connor again? Would they find anything to talk about beyond her assurances that he’d done nothing wrong?

She lifted her face toward the sun and closed her eyes. She replayed the previous night in her mind. Part of her was shouting that she wasn’t that type of girl, but she couldn’t deny that she’d enjoyed how he’d made her feel. Wasn’t that what she’d come to the ranch to feel, desired? Even if it was a fantasy, did that make the physical enjoyment any less real?

The more questions she asked herself, the more confused she became. Shaking her head and opening her eyes, she picked up her paintbrush and got back to work. Maybe by the time she finished the painting, she’d have come to a decision about Connor and the rest of the week.

* * * *

Connor searched the online job ads but couldn’t find anything that would pay him anywhere near what he made at the ranch. He rubbed his hand over his face, silently cursing that damn bull that had ended not only his hopes for a national bull-riding title but his career altogether. If he could have gotten that title, more money would have come from being a spokesman for certain brands even after he couldn’t ride anymore. Money he could use to provide for his mother’s care.

Unable to stay inside any longer, he left the small interior of his old RV behind and walked toward the creek that ran at the edge of the campground where he lived. Once there, he picked up a few stones and tossed them absently into the trickling water. What the hell was he going to do? Two jobs were always an option, but the sad fact remained that even that probably wouldn’t bring in the kind of money he was now. Whoring brought in the dough. Always had, always would. But it came at a price. Each time he was with a woman he didn’t care about, didn’t even know, it ate away a little more of his soul.

He thought of Lily and how he didn’t even know what she looked like. He couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than all the others.

There was something about her though, something different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he’d thought of little else since he’d left her sniffling in her bathroom that morning.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting his mental meandering. The ranch’s number showed on the display.

"Hey, Heidi," he said in answer.

"Hey. I just talked to Lily, and she’d like to see you again tonight."