Learning to Ride (4 page)

Tanner was probably
asking for trouble.

Okay, he was definitely asking for trouble, but right then, he didn't much care. Something about her seemed to shake all the good sense right out of his head. She brought out the impulsiveness that he thought he'd left behind with his early rodeo days, and for some reason he didn't want to fight it.

Madeline, on the other hand, seemed determined to fight it for him. He could practically see her earlier resolve cool the warmth that was there when she'd laughed a second ago.

Back to square one, he thought grimly.

Stepping back, she shook her head decisively. “I'm not going to get my purse, thank you, and I'm definitely not going out to eat with you.”

She said it as though he'd suggested they skinny-dip in the town's memorial fountain at high noon. It hit him all wrong, especially after the playfulness they'd just had. He crossed his arms and scowled at her. “And why is that?”

“Tanner, I thought I made this clear. I don't want to be seen with you. If you hadn't wooed me with promises of free yard work, you wouldn't even be here now.” She blew out a short breath, stirring the loose hairs around her face. “It was a stupid move on my part, and I'm not going to make it worse by going out with you.”

He gritted his teeth together. Well, if that didn't beat all. Here he was, offering to feed the woman after slaving away in her yard all day, and suddenly she was acting like she'd as soon dine with a raccoon than eat with him.

What had happened to the fun, sexy stranger he'd spent the night with? The chemistry was still there; that was for damn sure. He'd seen the widening of her eyes and the quick rise of her chest when he'd trapped her against the cabinet. He'd
felt
the pull between them, clear as day.

But something else was in her eyes now as she looked at him with her chin lifted and her shoulders ramrod straight. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it looked a lot like regret. Why? For having him over now, or for tangling with him in the first place?

Hell, she probably thought she was too good for someone like him, what with her fancy car, designer clothes, and Ivy League education. She saw little more than a man in a sweat-stained tee shirt and old, worn-out jeans and boots—his favorites, of course—sullying her kitchen while his old Chevy hunkered in her driveway.

He shook his head, wondering why he had bothered when she'd so clearly wanted to avoid him this morning. Pride and the love of a good challenge were a dangerous mix of personality traits.

“Thank you for the clarification,” he said tersely. “My apologies for imposing myself on you. You can rest assured I won't do it again.”

With a curt tip of his hat—manners were manners—he turned on his heel and stalked outside, letting the screen door slam behind him. He paused long enough to gather up the last two bags of lawn debris before making his way around the house to his truck. He tossed the bags in the back with more force than necessary before slamming the tailgate shut with a satisfying thud.

He wasn't used to rejection. Women liked him, and he liked them. But this was more than just a woman turning down his attentions. Madeline was something different. There was a sizzle between them that had robbed him of his better judgment. Spending time with her gave him the same sort of risky thrill riding a bucking bronco always had—a feeling he'd missed like hell since leaving the circuit.

Even so, he'd be damned if he'd butt in where he wasn't wanted.

He walked around to the driver's side door and pulled it open, ignoring the familiar squeak of the old hinges. The truck had belonged to his father, and he loved everything about the old rust bucket. And really, after all his years on the circuit, Tanner could relate to the truck's wheezes and groans.

He put one foot up on the running board when the sound of his name brought him up short. Glancing up, he saw Madeline jogging around the side of the house, her ponytail swinging. He narrowed his eyes but stayed where he was. Now what? He rested his elbows on the ledge of the open window and waited for her to reach him.

She stopped just on the other side of the car door. “That came out all wrong,” she said, a little out of breath. She paused to draw in a steadying lungful of air before setting her golden gaze squarely on him. “It's not you. I'm just…overly protective of my reputation here.”

“Ah, the old ‘it's not you, it's me' line,” he drawled, one eyebrow lifted.

“I'm serious,” she said, stepping closer in her earnestness and setting one hand on the door ledge beside his elbow. “I like you, and I'm sorry if I came across as ungrateful or rude, but it was a shock having my coworkers dissect my personal life. This merger is the biggest thing ever to happen to my career, and I won't derail it by losing my colleagues' respect.”

He wanted to make another smart remark but stifled it. It was big of her to come after him like this, and he really couldn't fault her for not wanting to be gossiped about. He'd spent his entire adult life doing the same. “People won't respect you less for making friends, Madeline.”

She gave a short laugh. “Is that what we're doing?” she said wryly. “I want the people here to take me seriously, and I don't think that'll happen if I get involved with the local heartthrob. I'm not giving all the local Tanner fans further reason to hate me, thank you very much.”

“Heartthrob?”
he said, letting out a crack of laughter. “I suppose I should be flattered.”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “As if you didn't know what the women in this town think of you.” Her lips tugged into a small grin.

“I'm more interested in what you think of me,” he replied lightly, only half teasing. “But all that aside, you, Miss Harper, jumped to conclusions.”

Her eyebrows tilted up. “About what?”

“You assumed that I was ignoring the fact that you wanted to stay beneath the gossip radar. I understand that you don't want to draw attention to us, and I respect that.”

“But you asked me to go out to eat with you. How else was I to interpret that? There are like two restaurants in this whole town. It'd be impossible not to be seen.”

“Now, see, that's where you're wrong,” he said, letting the words percolate in a bit of mystery. He climbed into the truck and pulled the door closed. Leaning his head through the open window, he gave her a challenging grin and nodded toward the passenger side. “Get in.”

She looked unconvinced, but he could see he'd piqued her interest. “I don't have my purse. Or my phone, for that matter. And where do you want to go?”

He turned the key and the old truck roared to life. “You don't need either where we're going. Just trust me.” For some reason, it was important to him that she have a little faith in him. If she didn't, then he'd know for sure that she didn't believe he was a man of his word.

For a few seconds, she stood rooted in place. He held his breath, wanting her to agree, but wanting more for her to
want
to agree. Finally, she shot him a wide, adventurous smile that he felt all the way to the pit of his stomach. She'd taken the bait.

Coming around to the passenger side, she pulled open the door and climbed in. “Alright, cowboy. I'll trust you. Don't make me regret it.”

Triumph and excitement warmed his blood as he sent her a crooked smile and thumbed the brim of his hat. “Yes ma'am. You have my word.”

It was the
lawn bag pickup that had done her in.

Madeline had stood firm in her determination to cut ties with Tanner all the way up until the moment he had stopped to gather the rest of the trash bags and carry them from her yard. Who does that after being told, in no uncertain terms, to hit the road?

It had made her feel like a complete jerk. Worse, an ungrateful jerk. He had worked so hard all day long, and even after being kicked to the curb, he'd still followed through with his commitment to help her. Her conscience wouldn't let her leave things as they were.

An apology was one thing, but jumping into his truck on a whim, sans purse and phone, was another thing altogether. She wasn't the impulsive or adventurous type—slow and steady won the race, and all that—but here she was, bumping along a dirt road in a truck that was probably older than her preschool diploma, trusting a guy she'd known less than a week with not only her reputation but her well-being.

She pressed her lips together, keeping her eyes on the rugged landscape ahead of them. Even though she didn't regret it—yet—she had to wonder what had possessed her to do such a thing. His honest eyes? That crooked grin? Perhaps she'd just gone ab-blind after catching glimpses of his impressive bare torso all day, and hadn't quite regained her senses.

Whatever it was, she couldn't even bring herself to be chagrined by it. She really did trust him, no matter how illogical that sounded. For all his flirting and sparring with her, he was a good guy. He had a truck bed full of lawn bags and an entire town's devotion to prove it.

As they crested a small rise, she caught sight of a quaint log cabin up ahead. A pair of rocking chairs sat on the wide covered porch, and flowers spilled from a half barrel at the foot of the stairs. Red-and-white gingham curtains fluttered in the open windows while a few metal whirligigs spun away in the garden. The sweet whimsy of the place made her smile.

Farther past the drive sat a picturesque red barn, with a circular paddock on one side. Wide-open pastureland extended as far as she could see, with a smattering of long-horned cattle grazing the scrubby grasses. The whole place looked timeless, as though it could have been built anywhere from five to a hundred years ago.

Tanner slowed and turned into the driveway, and she couldn't help but glance at him in surprise. He caught the look and grinned back. “Welcome to Casa Callen.”

“You live here?” She didn't mean to sound incredulous, but the place was so homey. She pictured a sweet old grandmother baking pies in the kitchen while her suspender-wearing husband tended the garden.

“I live here,” he confirmed as he put the truck into park and killed the engine. Even with the windows down, the quiet was profound. It had been at least five minutes since they'd passed another house.

A wry grin came to her lips as she looked around at the wilderness surrounding them. “No wonder you weren't concerned for my reputation.”

His chuckle was rough and warm. “Well, the cows can be damn nosy sometimes, but other than that, you could run buck naked for miles and no one would be the wiser.” Tossing her a wicked grin, he added, “So feel free.”

“I'm good, thanks,” she said with a lighthearted roll of her eyes. Normally she'd hate being so far from civilization, but there was something thrilling about being out here with Tanner, completely alone. She swallowed, keeping her thoughts in check. She was here for dinner, nothing more. No matter how sexy the man was, she couldn't afford to get involved with him. Eventually her fluttering stomach would remember that.

She hoped.

“Come on, I'll give you the grand tour.” He unbuckled his seat belt and hopped out of the truck. By the time she undid her own seat belt, he was at her side, pulling the door open for her. “Careful now,” he said, holding out his hands. “The running board on this side is a little rusted.”

Swallowing, she set her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her. He set her down just a little too close to him, and for a moment she feared—hoped?—that he would steal a kiss. Memories of his hands against her bare skin in her motel room made her breath catch, and she glanced away, afraid he would see the flash of attraction in her eyes.

Thankfully, he was a perfect gentleman, stepping back and sweeping his hand toward the house. “After you.”

They made their way down the flagstone path before climbing the four stairs to the front door. She expected him to pull out his keys to unlock the door, but he simply turned the knob and swung it open. She shook her head. Even a thousand miles from anyone, she would probably still lock her doors. It was as ingrained in her as brushing her teeth or fastening her seat belt.

“Lived here long?” she asked as she followed him inside. It was small by Texas standards, but cozy, with simple, comfortable-looking furniture and plain white walls. The only decorations were several carved wood horses and a few surprisingly lovely oil landscape paintings.

“It was my parents' place when they married. Mom sold it to me when she moved to Austin a few years back.”

“Oh, so you grew up here,” she said, looking around with renewed interest. It was easy to imagine little booted feet scuffing the wide-plank pine floors while running laps around the connected kitchen, dining, and living rooms.

His mouth tightened a bit as he shook his head. “Not really. It's a long story,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Kitchen's this way.”

Her curiosity flared, but she let it lie as she followed him into the room at the back of the house, which was surprisingly modern. The cabinets were still made of the same warm wood as the rest of the house, but gleaming stainless steel appliances and glittering granite countertops gave it an extra element of style that she had to admire.

“I'm hungry enough to eat a horse. You?” he asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a pair of steaks big enough to each fill a dinner plate on their own. As he turned to rummage in the vegetable drawer, she bit the inside of her lip and grimaced.

“I am, but I should have said earlier that I'm a vegetarian.” She waited for the inevitable mocking comment or look of contempt. He probably had a beef-jerky pacifier as a baby, judging by his surroundings.

But to her surprise, he simply returned one of the steaks to the fridge and grabbed an armload of mushrooms, peppers, and zucchini instead. He paused when he caught a glimpse of her shocked expression and shrugged, a hint of a grin curling the corners of his mouth. “A person's preferences are his or her own, Madeline. If you're not offended by my choices, I'm not offended by yours.”

She blinked. Well. How very modern of him. It seemed like people always had something to say about her choice not to eat meat. His response was unexpected, and nice. Really nice.

“Besides,” he added, with an appreciative sweep of her figure, “whatever you are doing is obviously working for you.”

His devilish wink made her laugh, even as it sent a rush of butterflies through her belly. She bit back a grin and went to wash her hands, trying to shrug off the effect he had on her. “Where's the cutting board?” she asked lightly, as though he hadn't just made her blush like a schoolgirl.

“I'll take care of this,” he said, coming up behind her close enough to make her shiver, without actually touching her. He reached over her shoulder and retrieved a wineglass from the cabinet by her shoulder. “You go have a seat and enjoy a little wine.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. After two days of cleaning and unpacking, she wasn't going to turn down the suggestion. Drying her hands on a dish towel, she turned to face him and offered a wry smile. “Don't say it unless you mean it.”

“Darlin',” he said, leaning forward just enough to make her heart pound, “when it comes to me, you can rest assured that I always tell the truth, I never turn down a challenge, and I
always
say what I mean.”

With that, he held up the glass, his blue eyes sparkling. There was no missing the warm promise in both his gaze and his deep voice, a promise that had nothing to do with wine or dinner.

Lifting her chin, she plucked the glass from his fingers and smiled. “In that case, will you be serving red or white?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Haven't you figured it out yet? 'Round here, it's always ladies' choice.”

By the time dinner was ready, Madeline was thoroughly relaxed and happy. She'd never had a man cook for her before. Where she lived, it was a choice between going out or ordering in, as her tiny kitchen was hardly worth hassling with.

Watching Tanner cook was actually an enjoyable experience. She liked watching his easy, capable movements as he sliced the veggies, prepared the kabobs and salads, and stood guard at the grill. He wasn't putting on a show; clearly he enjoyed cooking. She'd even missed him when he'd dashed inside for the world's fastest shower, reappearing less than five minutes later with his hair damp and tousled in order to flip the steak.

As they sat down to eat at the oval-shaped table on the back deck, the two of them on the same side in order to face the view, she gave an appreciative nod at the quality of the meal. “I wouldn't think there'd be much time to learn to cook on the road as a rodeo star,” she said before taking her first bite of the baked potato. She almost groaned in pleasure at its buttery, cheesy goodness. It was worth every last carb, as far as she was concerned.

He shook his head as he washed down a mouthful of salad with a swig of his beer. “There wasn't. But my grandmother made sure I knew how to cook a proper spread before I could even drive. I'm grateful to her, since eating out gets old in a hurry. And it's such a hassle to go out to eat when I'm home, living as far away as I do. Lucky for me, I enjoy cooking.”

She savored a slice of perfectly tender grilled zucchini before murmuring, “Lucky for me, too.”

That made him smile, which in turn made her do the same. The soft evening breeze tugged at his rapidly drying hair while the setting sun made his eyes sparkle. He looked like a model fresh off a shoot for a Country Living magazine. Seriously, the man was ridiculously handsome.

And it was almost too intimate, smiling together on his back deck, nothing but cattle and wilderness around for miles. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked down at her plate. She fumbled around for a new topic of conversation as she chased a cherry tomato around her plate. “So do you work here now? I mean, now that you are a
former
rodeo star, if office gossip is to be believed.”

She looked up just in time to catch his boyish, tilted grin. “Who you callin' ‘former'? Being a rodeo champion is like being a triathlete: once you've done the deed, the title is yours for keeps.”

He was clearly teasing, and she found herself smiling back at him all over again. “I stand corrected. So is the retired champion resting on his laurels now?”

“Naw. I spend most days helping out on my grandfather's ranch. You can see the property line, just over that ridge.” He tipped his chin toward the sunset, where a narrow footpath disappeared over a rise. She hadn't noticed the barbed wire fence cutting across the land there before.

She frowned. “You walk to work?” It seemed like everyone drove everywhere in Texas, including to the mailbox.

He shook his head, amused. “I ride to work. I'd spend half the day commuting if I had to walk.”

“Like, on a
horse?
” Did people actually do that? Outside of a movie set, that was. It seemed to her like a fast way to break a neck.

That made him laugh out loud. “Yes, on a horse. The cattle would have me on my ass if I ever tried to ride them. That's the life I've left behind,” he added with a good-natured wink.

“Well, how should I know?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at his teasing. “It's not like this is the Wild West. People use cars and bikes now. You do know we've put a man on the moon, yes?”

“Have we, now?” he asked, pretending to be impressed with the idea. “What'll they think of next?”

It was her turn to laugh. He definitely didn't take himself too seriously. “Skyscrapers. Taxis. Chinese food delivery.”

“You don't say,” he drawled before taking a bite of steak. “Tell me more.”

She sat back in her chair and sighed. She missed the city so much. Just thinking about the place she considered to be home made her heart ache. “Have you ever been to New York?”

He shook his head.

“Now that is a travesty. It's especially gorgeous this time of year, with the trees still holding onto a little color before winter sets in. The sky is never bluer than it is in autumn, too. There's so much
life
there. So much noise and bustle. You're never alone when you're in the city.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Which is why I've never been. Y'all are packed in that city like sardines. Give me the wide-open spaces and solitude any day of the week.”

His answer didn't surprise her, but it was still unfair. She leaned forward, wanting him to open his mind and listen. “You only think that because you've never given the city a chance. There's so much culture there. So many amazing restaurants and random, fun little stores. If you can't find something in New York, it doesn't exist.”

“What about peace and quiet?”

She rolled her eyes. “I should have said, if you can't find it in New York, you don't need it.”

“Yet you had to come all the way to Texas to find a date.”

He laughed when she swatted at him. She shook her head even as she suppressed a grin. “Very funny. And this is
not
a date.”

“'Course not,” he said easily, his rough velvet voice nearly a caress.

She wondered if he really did think of this as a date, even if he wouldn't call it that. It was so strange, sitting here with a man who knew her body as well as he did, trying to act as if she didn't find him as attractive as hell. She didn't
want
to. She'd only agreed to come with him out of guilt for her rude behavior toward him…hadn't she?