Second Chance Cowboy (5 page)

Her mouth met his. He tensed when she
swept her tongue across his bottom lip. An instant heat started in
the pit of her stomach and slid downward. Her core twitched with
desire and her nerve endings became tingly receptors.

Rocking against him, Carly rotated her
hips in silent summons. She smiled when he grew hard against her
stomach, stretching his jeans to their limit.

Did he want her like she wanted
him?

Pulling back enough to peer up at him,
she moistened her lips. She opened her mouth to say something along
the lines of using the bed when the door opened. The unwelcomed
interruption drenched her in cold water. The heat between her
thighs fizzled. Carly peeked beyond Chance’s shoulder in
irritation. Lila, her best friend, strolled into the room and came
to a dead stop when she saw Chance. Carly managed a tight smile.
She loved Lila, but the woman had awful timing.

“
Well, well.” She cocked a
thin brow. “Look what the cat dragged in. Did I barge in on
something?”

“
Good to see you, Lila.”
Chance’s rugged expression belied his words.

Carly sighed. Her husband and Lila had
never hit it off. She’d been the referee more times than she could
remember.

“
Do you seriously mean
you’re glad?” Lila’s reservation tinged her tone.

Carly moved away from Chance and
positioned herself between the two. “I didn’t know you were
stopping over, Lila.”

“
Apparently.” Lila flicked
a heated gaze at Chance.

“
I’ll step out while you
get dressed.” Chance crossed the room toward the door.

“
Are you sure you don’t
want to stay and help?” Carly teased. She wanted to continue what
they’d started after Lila left.

Chance’s mouth kinked at the corner.
“I’d like to stay—”

“
But I need to speak to
him,” Lila interjected. “I need his opinion on a horse I have my
eye on. Is it okay if I steal him for a minute?”

Carly looked from Chance to Lila
cautiously. Together they were like oil and water. “Sure, but only
for a minute. If I hear one raise in tone, I will not be happy and
the two of you will be in big trouble. All that I want to do right
now is get out of here and head home. My place is at the Swift
Wind.”

Carly reached inside her closet and
sifted through clothes on metal hangers. She pulled out a flowered,
sack-shaped dress and wrinkled her nose. She gave the conservative
number a toss onto the bed. She dug out a silk pants suit and read
the still-attached price tag. The astronomical number made her
shudder and shake her head. The outfit was something she’d wear to
a meeting at an office, not on a ranch. Not her taste at all. “No
wonder I left these clothes behind when I moved out.”

Giving up, she settled for the only
decent clothing she could find that didn’t scream old maid. A worn
Aerosmith concert t-shirt left over from college and a pair of
jeans with more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. She loved those
jeans. She checked her reflection in the mirror and smiled. Had she
been working out? If she had bragging rights, she thought she
looked better than ever.

* * * *

Chance followed Lila into the hallway
and caught a glimpse of the framed oil painting of a horse Carly
did when she was eight. He smiled. He loved that
painting.

Lila cleared her throat and he turned
his attention to her. The woman looked like a ticking time bomb
ready to blast him to hell.

He hoped Harry had the opportunity to
explain the situation to her or else this plan was doomed before it
got off the ground.

Once the door clicked shut behind
them, Lila shook her head in disbelief, sending hoop earrings
bouncing. “What are you doing?”

Chance answered in a steady, sure
voice. “I was kissing my wife.”

“
She’s not your wife, not
anymore,” Lila stated prissily.

“
You don’t
understand.”

“
Yes, I do. Harry told me
Carly thinks she’s still married to you.” Her lip curled in
disgust. “So, I’ll ask again. What are you doing?” Folding her arms
over her chest, she tapped her shoe in irritation.

Chance cut Lila some slack for showing
her claws. She and Carly were sisters without DNA. When one was in
a bad way, the other stepped up. However, he wouldn’t stand by and
allow Lila to run him over the coals. “I’m doing this to help
her.”

He expected a tongue-lashing, but
instead, she flashed him a smile. “Chance, I’ve got to say, this
may work. I’d like to believe she should get over you and move the
hell on, but the simple fact is, you two have a connection, a past,
and whether she admits it or not, she still loves you. It’s about
time you got your lazy, hassle-free ass in gear and made an effort
to get her back. I don’t know what went on in her head, but for
some reason she was happier with you.”

He slanted his eyes. “Correction. This
is not an effort to get her back, Lila. It’s only until her memory
returns.” A big part of him hoped Carly would see this as a chance
for a new beginning, but he feared if he put too much into
believing, he’d have his heart trampled on.

Lila’s smile disappeared and she gave
a toss of her ponytail. “What if this is permanent? Sometimes an
amnesiac doesn’t get their memory back. Look, you need to figure
out why you agreed to do this.”

His cotton shirt suddenly shrunk two
sizes. He rolled his shoulders and tugged at the collar. “I told
you. She thinks we’re married. Harry and I are protecting her from
the truth, at least until she can handle it.” He rubbed his
jawline. “Dammit, Lila, I never stopped loving her.”

“
Okay, I get that. Telling
her the truth may send her spiraling back into depression.” Lila
shook her head in frustration. “However, I need to know you’re in
this for the long haul. It’s likely she’ll find out the truth. So,
you need to ask yourself what you plan to do when, or if, that
happens. You can’t keep her holed up forever.”

There wasn’t a chance to answer.
Carly’s bedroom door opened and she stepped out into the hallway,
her blue eyes curious. “Are you two knocking heads?”

Chance smoothed his gaze over her in
admiration. Dressed now, her hair brushed, she looked
good.

He remembered the worse-for-wear jeans
and the snug tee all too well. They were remnants from her wardrobe
when he first fell in love with her.

The jeans hugged Carly’s shapely body
like they’d been tailor-made for her tight curves. He could easily
forget that he and Carly weren’t alone and divorce papers separated
them.

“
No, of course we’re not
butting heads,” Lila spoke, ruining the moment again. “I’ve learned
how to deal with his type a long time ago, Carly.” With a glance at
her thin silver watch, she moaned. “Oh, I’ve got to run. My shift
at the hospital starts in an hour.”

Carly and Lila hugged.

Lila passed Chance. She smiled and
said pertly, “I hope you can manage taking care of your wife. I can
write directions in simple terminology if you need.”

“
I can manage. Should I
tell Duke you said hello?” She gritted her teeth and he smiled. He
knew it was a low blow, but he couldn’t resist. She deserved
it.

“
If I wasn’t afraid the
words would rot my mouth, I’d tell you exactly what message to give
your pal.” She disappeared down the stairs.

Chance’s smile quickly disappeared
when he saw the discontented expression on Carly’s face. “Chance,
you shouldn’t tease her about Duke. You know how she
feels.”

“
Let’s get out of here,” he
said.

He didn’t want to talk about anyone
else’s troubles at the moment. His shoulders were weighed down
enough, and the stiffness behind his zipper made thinking
difficult.

Carly took a step closer to him, stood
on tiptoes and kissed him fully on the mouth. She pulled back and
caught him with a tempting gaze. “Yes, Chance, let’s get out of
here. I miss my cowboy and can’t wait to show him how
much.”

Chance’s pulse quickened and he tugged
at the collar of his shirt. He watched her walk away. She had the
sweetest sway to her ass and it set off warnings inside his head.
He didn’t think sex was part of the bargain, but damn he was on
fire. He had a feeling he’d be taking a lot of cold showers—lots
and lots of icy showers.

Chapter Four

CARLY STAYED QUIET on the drive home.
Her mind raced with missing pieces of her life and the steady
pounding at her temples made her vision fuzzy. Her headache had
grown since they left the McAllister. Her memories played like a
low-budget movie.

Dr. Dan Maxwell said everything would
be fine in time and the headaches were a normal side effect of a
bump to the head.

She trusted him. He’d been her doctor
since childhood and a good friend to her family. Dr. Maxwell had
been gentle in his description of her problem, yet her uneasiness
remained. He’d explained that she had the most common form of
amnesia and only parts of her memory were gone. Although as slight
as it was, there was a chance the loss would be
permanent.

Because she wasn’t sure what she’d
forgotten, the lines between fact and fiction were unclear, if not
completely indiscernible.

Carly remembered waking up at the
bottom of the stairs, her mind blurry and aching. Sam had found her
and helped her, but everything remained vague after
that.

Now things seemed different, changed
somehow. The trees seemed taller. The sky bluer. The grass greener.
Even Chance, her forever man of strength and support, seemed unlike
himself. She glanced across the cab of the truck at his profile.
Chewing on the corner of his mouth, he gripped the steering wheel
with such force his knuckles turned white under his tanned skin.
Definitely signs of stress.

Carly pulled her stare back out the
window. They drove through the open gate onto the property of the
Swift Wind. Had the gate always been blue?

The swinging sign of the Swift Wind
Ranch caught her attention
.
She exhaled a heavy breath.
Home.

After entering the property, the
narrow road led them past modern buildings and two red barns where
ranch hands tended the livestock. Lush green fields extended for a
thousand acres of spectacular farmland.

The purple wildflowers swayed in the
light breeze and tall ornamental grass waved wheat-colored
tops.

The tranquil beauty relaxed
her.

The Swift Wind held an esteemed
reputation in the county. There wasn’t a rancher in these parts who
wouldn’t wish for the opportunity to buy the thriving business and
property. Under Chance’s care and supervision, it had tripled in
value and livestock.

Prestige didn’t come without a hefty
price, though.

Running a ranch wasn’t a nine-to-five,
but a twenty-four-seven obligation. With over ten-thousand head of
cattle, a barn full of horses and numerous employees all relying on
him, a lot rested on Chance’s shoulders.

Gazing out toward the pasture, Carly
watched the horses gallop across the field. Their long silken manes
flowed in the wind. With the window down, she could hear their
hooves pounding hard and confident against the ground in
greeting.

The white fence curved alongside the
roadway like a sweeping divider between the perimeter of the house
and the fields. The group of horses came to a sudden stop at the
enclosure’s edge and hung their long, flexible necks over the top
rail, craning to watch the black truck disappear beyond a
three-layered row of sweet-smelling pine trees.

Once they turned the bend, her heart
soared. Her beautiful home came into view. The pristine white
two-story welcomed her in familiar comfort. Grand columns lined the
wraparound porch and the red steeple rooftop appeared stately
against the backdrop of the pale blue sky and abundant green
countryside.

The flourishing flowerbeds with their
vibrant colors added to the house’s splendor. An early abundance of
purple pansies, golden marigolds and Mexican feather grass stirred
in the gentle wind. She didn’t remember the flowers, not like this.
The yellow rose bushes along the trellis, which lined the house,
crept up the spindled wood. It seemed like she’d just planted
them.

She remembered enjoying sinking her
hands into the flowerbeds and vegetable garden. She had a feeling
she’d stopped gardening and she wasn’t sure why. Possibly she
didn’t have the time any longer. Perhaps she simply lost interest.
Tending to a garden was a never-ending chore.

Carly moved her thoughts back to the
house.

The Taylor family could have easily
afforded an elaborate abode, but when Chance’s great grandparents
built the house over one-hundred-and-fifty years ago, they wanted a
home that portrayed their lifestyle. They were easy folk,
comfortable and welcoming. They’d built this place with three
equally important things—wood, nails and love.

The Taylors birthed their kids here
and molded a reputable legacy. Over the years, Taylor descendants
remodeled the house to suit their growing needs and the
three-hundred-acre ranch tripled under smart business
dealings.