Molding Clay (5 page)

the uneven light.

That luscious little body was encased in a tight denim vest that was low enough to

invite a man’s eyes to the swell of her breasts. She wore a short little denim skirt that

slunk low on her hips and stopped just short of being indecent on her thighs.

His eyes slowly raked over her. And he liked what he saw. Firm with more than a

hint of muscle in the thigh and calf, her legs were smooth-skinned and well shaped.

A pair of sassy calf-high boots that fit snug to her legs completed her outfit.

Clay’s eyes burned at the sight, right along with the rest of his body. If he didn’t

know better, he’d think he’d just swallowed a big gulp of Chase’s home brew. Rusty

was that potent.

His eyes returned slowly up her body, stopping on her face. One look and he was

glad he saved the best for last. Her full lips were slick with gloss, making them look like

a candy treat meant to be licked and sucked. Dark thick lashes framed her mysterious

violet eyes, pulling him in.

A slow, sexy smile spread on her face as they locked eyes. It was then Clay

remembered that he was naked. And not just that but sporting a champion boner.

Rusty’s smile widened as if she could read his mind.

“Nice outfit, but I don’t think the other fellas would appreciate being

so…upstaged,” she said in that husky teasing voice he was coming to recognize.

Clay grinned at the offhand compliment and turned to grab a pair of jeans from his

suitcase. “Well, I wouldn’t want to start out on the wrong foot with the locals.”

Rusty chuckled and watched him slide the jeans on, not able to ignore the fact that

there was nothing between his skin and the denim. Clay saw her watching but made no

move to hurry. Rusty got the idea that he was enjoying it too, but doubted that his

pleasure could be near as great as hers.

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Molding Clay

She was a little disappointed when he was fully dressed, although she had to admit

that he did clean up mighty good. A white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to

expose his strong forearms was tucked into the jeans. A black belt with an interesting

and unique buckle cinched his waist. His boots were black but well worn, the boots of a

working cowboy.

Clay picked up his Stetson and walked over to Rusty. “I hope we’re going

somewhere the law likes to frequent ’cause sure as shit you’re gonna cause a riot, Miz

Blackhawk.”

Rusty laughed. “That’s about the oddest compliment I’ve ever gotten, Mr. Russell.”

“Just call ’em like I see ’em,” he replied.

“Well thank you. You clean up real good yourself.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Now how ’bout that beer I promised?”

Rusty smiled and gestured toward the door. “After you.”

“Ladies first,” he argued with a smile.

Rusty stepped past him, headed for the door but looked back to catch him watching

her ass.

“Like my daddy always said, ain’t no crime in looking,” he said.

Rusty hid a grin and headed on out the door. Suddenly she was looking forward to

the evening. A night out with a sexy man, a little drinking, a little flirting. Sounded like

just what the doctor ordered.

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Ciana Stone

Chapter Five

Davy Stikeleather watched the truck pull into the parking lot. The cowboy driving

might be big and rich, but he wasn’t near as smart as Davy because he never knew that

Davy had been watching him and Rusty all day, or that he’d followed them from

Blackhawk Ranch to the Grille.

The big man, Russell, got out and walked around the truck to open the door for

Rusty. He even took Rusty’s hand as she stepped down from the truck. Davy snorted.

That man didn’t know shit from shinola. Rusty Blackhawk was a nice piece of ass but

she was about as far from a lady as a woman could get.

Danny, Davy’s older brother and Rusty’s husband, had told Davy and all the men

in the family about what a wildcat Rusty was. And what a tramp. According to Davy,

the only reason Blackhawk Ranch stayed in business as long as it had was that Rusty

fucked her way to whatever she wanted.

Now that Danny was dead, the family knew the best thing for her was to marry up

with another of the brothers and let the family step in and run the ranch. But the bitch

had laughed in their faces when they suggested she marry Dennis. Secretly, Davy was

glad. Dennis was a moron. Sure, he was big as a house and strong as an ox but he had a

brain the size of a peanut.

Davy, on the other hand, had more smarts than his whole family put together. And

he had been the one to come up with the plan to burn Rusty out. If the idiot Dennis had

set the fire the way Davy instructed the house would have burned to the ground. But it

had worked well enough despite Dennis. It wouldn’t take long for the insurance

company to send someone to tell her that her insurance had lapsed long ago.

That was Davy’s brainchild as well. He’d made sure to check Rusty’s mail every

day, and each time she sent in an insurance payment he took it to a friend who, for a

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Molding Clay

fee, got it cashed and stamped with a fake insurance stamp. Just as he stole every

statement from the insurance company demanding payment. He still had the policy

cancellation in his dresser drawer at home.

She was going to be in a fix, regardless of that fancy Arizona cowboy. By the time

Davy and his family got through, Clay Russell would want to get as far away from

Rusty Blackhawk as possible. Then Rusty would have no choice but to take help from

the family. And the next time someone was named as the candidate for her to marry, it

was going to be him.

Davy watched Rusty smile up at Russell, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

It was time to round up the family.

“The Lonely Grille?” Clay asked as he offered Rusty his hand when she started to

get out of the truck. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope,” she said and smiled. “And according to Melvin, this place is definitely the

inspiration for more songs than he can shake a stick at.”

Clay laughed. “Ooookay. Just as long as the beer is cold and the steaks are hot.”

Rusty chuckled and tugged on his hand. “Coldest beer in three counties and the

beef is the best in the state.”

Clay’s stomach rumbled as he pulled open the door for Rusty to enter. A chorus of

voices rang out with greetings as she walked in, along with quite a few catcalls and

whistles.

She grinned and greeted the folks in the bar as she led the way to a booth along one

wall. Clay took off his hat as he slid into the booth. Rusty took the seat opposite him

and grinned up at the bosomy redhead who approached the table.

“Hey, Deanna,” Rusty said.

“Hey, girl. I was starting to think you’d skipped town it’s been so long. What you

been doing?” She cut her eyes flirtatiously at Clay. “Or should I ask?”

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Ciana Stone

“Deanna, this is Clay Russell of the Circle R in Arizona. The Circle R is—”

“Going into partnership with Blackhawk Ranch,” Clay cut in. “And I’m the lucky

cowboy representing the Circle R in the partnership. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Deanna was just staring gape-mouthed at Clay who was smiling at her in a

completely sexual manner. Rusty wanted to kick him under the table. Even she could

smell Deanna heating up.

“My pleasure, Mr. Russell,” Deanna said and extended her hand to him. “Deanna

Jones at your service.”

Clay took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Darlin’, do you

think you could rustle a hungry hand up a rare steak and a cold beer?”

Deanna giggled like a schoolgirl. “Without a doubt, Mr. Russell.”

“My friends call me Clay,” he said in such a charming tone that Rusty gritted her

teeth.

“Well then, Clay, I’m gonna get ya’ll two tall cold ones and tell the cook to throw a

two-inch steak on the griddle. You want fries or baked potato?”

“Baked, please.”

“And what kind of dressing on your salad?”

“Keep the salad,” Clay replied.

Deanna finally turned her attention to Rusty. “What you want, hon?”

“Sweet potato, salad, corn on the cob, green beans, some okra if you have it, squash,

a side of coleslaw and a side of potato salad. Oh, and two wedges of cornbread if you

have it.”

Deanna cut her eyes at Clay. “Eats like a horse and never gains an ounce. Beats the

dickens out of me how she does it. Everything I eat goes straight to my hips.”

“Well god bless good eating,” Clay said flirtatiously.

Deanna blushed. “I’ll get this order in right now and be back in a flash with those

beers.”

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Molding Clay

Rusty leaned back against the booth and regarded Clay with narrowed eyes as

Deanna gave him a sassy smile and walked away, swaying her ass in an obviously

exaggerated manner.

Clay watched the waitress walk away then turned his attention to Rusty. “Nice gal.

You know her long?”

“All my life,” Rusty answered shortly, eliciting a sly smile from Clay.

“You got a burr up your butt about something, Fancy?”

Rusty looked away as she answered. “Nope.” It gnawed at her that the flirtation

between Clay and Deanna rankled. How could she be jealous of a man she hardly

knew?

Deanna returned with their beers. Clay raised his glass toward Rusty. “To my new

partner.”

Rusty raised her glass too and clinked it against his. Their eyes met and held, and

for the first time in years, her second sight came fully alive. She saw within Clay all of

the secret dreams, aspirations and desires he’d kept bottled and hidden. She saw the

insecurity he masked with a party-boy persona. She saw the frustration he was trying to

suppress at the attraction he felt for her, and the fear that maybe she wasn’t just another

woman he could bed and walk away from. That he’d nearly gone crazy watching her

work all day, wanting to touch her but holding fast to his manners and trying not to let

the attraction rule.

She saw his past. His brothers Cole and Caleb and Chase. His father Charlie, and

Clara, the woman who had become a mother to him when his own died. She saw Ana,

and the special place she’d come to occupy in Clay’s heart. And she saw the certainty he

felt that he would never find a woman who would own his heart the way Ana owned

Chase’s.

She saw his desire to become one of the top bull riders in the PBR, to prove himself

despite his father’s disapproval. She saw his uncertainty that he could make Blackhawk

a success and prove to his family that he was capable.

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And she saw a heart capable of so much love and compassion that it shattered her

defenses completely and allowed what she’d so feared to possess her. Clay Russell was

the one. The man she wanted to walk time with.

It rattled her so much that her arm shook and her glass clattered against his,

slopping beer all over the table.

Clay saw Rusty’s violet eyes turn the dark purple of an Arizona sunset, and the

vacant expression that captured her face. A moment later she started to shake. Their

glasses rattled together hard enough to cause beer to splatter the table.

He didn’t think. He just acted. He slammed his glass on the table in the same move

as he rose and skirted the booth to slide in beside her. She was still holding her beer

glass, with that wide-eyed vacant expression on her face.

Clay removed the glass from her hand and turned her to face him. “Hey now,

Fancy, you okay?”

Rusty didn’t react and that scared Clay. Something was wrong. A person didn’t just

zone out of reality for no reason. He had to do something to snap her back. But what?

Several possibilities flitted through his mind. Shaking her, slapping her, yelling for

an ambulance. But he reacted in a purely male and instinctual way. He pulled her to

him and kissed her.

Rusty was barely aware of what was happening. She was still locked within the

“knowing place”. Not until Clay pulled her close to him and his lips covered hers did

she come back. And for Rusty it was like finally coming home. Despite the fact that they

had never touched, she knew the feel of him against her. Knew the tickle of his beard

and mustache against her face, the taste of his breath on her face and the soft fullness of

his lips against hers.

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Molding Clay

She never considered whether it was wise or right, she simply responded. Her arms

went up to circle his neck. “
Az én-m szeretett
,” she whispered before her lips parted

against his.

Clay didn’t understand the words she whispered but it sent something rocketing

through him that was as sizzling as a live wire and as solid as a mountain. It was

something that touched the protected place in his heart that he kept locked away from

the world.

Her lips parted against his. It was an invitation he could not refuse. Her taste was

intoxicating, the feel of her against him, electric. Without hesitation he took what she

offered, plundering her mouth like a starved man who is offered a feast.

What he didn’t count on or consider was the effect it would have on either of them.

Rusty groaned and pressed against him, returning the kiss with as much passion and