Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (10 page)

Chapter 9

I set the groceries down on the counter.

“You o
pen a bottle of wine while I get my suit on,” I said.

I
left him standing in the kitchen while I went to my bedroom and changed into a bikini. A glance in the bathroom mirror reminded me that I should take off my cat makeup. The hair wasn’t so easy, so I left it. I rummaged through Pat’s dresser and found a suit Ryan could wear.

Ryan
had found two mismatched glasses and poured us wine. He turned around when I put the suit on the counter and blinked. It was pretty funny how hard he tried to focus on my eyes as I stood there in my bikini, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking at my body.

“
Pat won’t mind, unless of course it bothers you, and in that case you can go naked,” I teased.

Ryan
grinned as he shook his head slightly.

“I’ll
borrow the suit,” he said, picking it up and moving down the hall to the powder room.

I washed the lettuce and set it on paper towels on the counter to dry.
Ryan came back into the kitchen in Pat’s shorts. I’d never seen him in anything but winter clothes—we’d never been hot tubbing together. Wow, I couldn’t help but notice he was buff. The muscles in his arms were defined, his chest muscular, his abs tight. I recalled he spent time at the gym. I looked up into his eyes and was embarrassed. He knew I was checking him out.

“I’ll grab some towels and meet you outside
,” I said feeling my face turn red, as I darted off down the hall.

When I got
out back. Ryan was already in the tub, the steam rising and swirling around his head into the cold night air. I hung the towels on hooks on the side of the house and quickly made my way down the snow path to the hot tub. I could feel the prickling of the cold on the soles of my feet and hurried into the tub. The water stung my cold feet when I got in.

“Ah
hh,” I said, sinking into the tub beside him.

“Here
,” he said, handing me my glass of wine.

“
Thank you. Today was fun. I shouldn’t have smoked that pot, we could have skied more. I never smoke pot, I don’t know why I thought I should today.”

I relaxed against the side of the tub, feeling the warmth spread into my body.

“
It made me feel weird, like slow motion. A beer or two relaxes me, makes me think I ski better than I do,” I said and laughed. “The pot made me feel paranoid and nervous and I’m glad it’s worn off.”

“Don’t smoke next time it’s handed to you
,” he chuckled.

“I’ll take that advice.
Seemed like the right thing at the time. I got caught up in the madness,” I said. “A lot of foolish behavior today, I am so going to miss this place.”

I felt my funk creep back in
at the thought of going home. Ryan and I hadn’t spent enough time together over the winter and I suddenly regretted that too. It was partly due to the fact that we were in different stages in our lives. He generally stopped by The Club for a beer after construction all day. With him working days though, he was usually leaving the bar as I was getting there. We’d skied together a handful of times, passed each other in a bar, and had a beer together, no real length of time. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with him. When he smiled at me, I realized I was staring at him, lost in my thoughts.

“A hot tub always feels so good after skiing
,” I said, sliding up to my neck in the tub.

“That it doe
s,” he said, leaning back, resting his arms on the edge of the tub.

I couldn’t help but look at
them. He caught me again and smiled.

My heart pounded and I looked away suddenly shy that he’d caught me looking.

“I’m afraid about going home,” I confided.

“Afraid?”
he asked tilting his head in question.

I stood up in the tub suddenly hotter than I wanted to be, and his eyes went directly to my boobs. I pushed the water
around nervously in a circular motion.

“I came up here for the adventure of it.
The adventure of moving away, being a ski bum; not waking up one day and wondering why I never did anything spontaneous, risky. You’ve done risky. You left home early, moved around, experienced things,” I said.

I realized I hadn’t planned so well, not thought about after the season was over. Not thought Max would be begging for me to come home.

“You did what you set out to do. Seems you’ve had a good winter. So why the fear?” he asked.

“I’
m afraid of going back, falling back into the same routine. I wanted to move forward, change something, and now I feel like I’m going backwards. Max thinks we can go back to being like it was before; he wants that. I won’t ever be like I was before.”

Again he tilted his head with a confused look on his face.

“Being away and having to do things on my own has made me a different person, given me more confidence in myself, in life. I don’t think he’ll like the new me, someone with an opinion,” I explained.

An amused look suddenly replaced the confused one.

“I can’t imagine you without an opinion,” he teased.

I moved across the tub and sat back down on the bench.

“I guess I always had one, but like a kitten, I followed his lead, did what he wanted to do, now I feel like a lion,” I said. “Like it’s okay to want other things.”

“Th
us the costume today?” he questioned.

“Didn’t
give that a thought actually, but good point,” I chuckled, liking his analogy.

We stayed in the hot tub for about forty
-five minutes, talking before my body just got too hot. My fingers were starting to prune as well.

“Let’s get out, and I can get dinner going,” I said, climbing out of the hot tub.

I figured Ryan was checking me out as
I darted across the snowy path, grabbed a cold towel from the hook, and went into the house. Ryan came in shortly after me, his towel wrapped around his waist. My breath caught in my throat.

“Can I take
you up on that shower?” he asked.

“
I offered, didn’t I? There are bath towels under the sink, although check first. My roommates are pigs, and as far as doing laundry, they are worthless. Shampoo and everything is in the shower. Help yourself to whatever else, including their guy shit,” I called as he headed down the hall.

I kept my towel draped over my shoulders while I
built a fire in the fireplace. Once I had that going, I made a salad, washed the potatoes and put them in the oven, and seasoned the steaks. I put placemats and silverware on the table and wished I had candles. The thought was sort or funny to me, almost like I wanted it to feel more special.

Ryan
came back in his blue turtleneck and black long underwear. He looked cute in his long johns and I couldn’t help but notice his package. His hair was wet, but he must have run his fingers through it, as his curls didn’t look flat. Again I noticed how the color of his shirt set off his tan face and his eyes. He looked hot and I wondered why I’d never thought that before. I’d thought handsome, but not hot.

“Sorry about the outfit.
Not my normal out-to-dinner attire. This girl I know wouldn’t let me go home first,” he apologized bowing with a smile.

I laughed
just as I caught the sparkle in his eyes.

“Y
ou can forgo the wannabe-cowboy look tonight, you look fine.”

I
turned to leave, the butterflies in my stomach just starting to awaken.

“
My turn in the shower. Enjoy the fire while I’m gone. I’ll just be a minute.”

“A
minute
and
girl
don’t go together,” he grinned.

“You obv
iously haven’t been around fast girls,” I teased.

I showered quicker than
usual and only partially blew my hair dry. For some reason tonight, I wanted Ryan to notice me. I applied some mascara and dabbed on some lip color. Once satisfied with my looks I went to my bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans and a pink, long-sleeved T-shirt with a scoop neck—I didn’t want to make it too obvious that I was making an effort. I took another quick look in the bathroom mirror and decided I looked good for a girl who had partied all day. Ryan usually seemed immune to me, as far as being attracted to me. Maybe I could change that tonight.

“Ta
-da,” I said, coming back into the living room.

He was
putting several logs on the fire and I noticed he’d filled both our wine glasses. He glanced up at me and smiled.

“You are fast
,” he said, “for a girl.”

“Screw
you,” I said playfully. “Start the barbeque, I’m ready to grill, although we will need it to burn down some, should be perfect timing for the potatoes.”

“A girl
who grills too?” he said, sounding surprised.

“
Ryan, you better shut it, or I’ll throw you out before dinner,” I teased.

“Ok
ay, okay, I’m lighting the grill,” he said, his hands up as if in defense.

He grabbed the matches on the counter
and headed out back. I watched through the window as he lit the briquettes. The initial flare of fire illuminated his face and again I wondered why he looked so good to me tonight. Ryan was helpful with getting plates out and the food on the table.

“Well here’s to a great ski season,” he said raising his wine glass.

“Yes,” I smiled. “A great ski season.”

I could tell
Ryan was pleased with the dinner. I figured he probably didn’t do a lot of home cooking. After we finished, we moved back to the living room by the fire. Again he went to the fireplace and poked up the fire, putting more wood on. He was so different from Max, so seemingly comfortable with himself. When he came back to the couch, he sat down and started massaging my back.

“Oh, that feels good,” I
moaned.

His fingers worked into the muscles in my shoulders and neck, down my back, and then my arms and up again. I was feeling very relaxed between the hot tub, dinner, and the wine. When the phone rang is startled me and I jumped. Ryan stopped massaging as
I leaned over to answer it.

“Morgan, it’s Pat,” came through the other end.

Ryan watched me as I listened to Pat and then hung up the receiver.

“
Shit, Pat’s bringing a group home to hot tub,” I said displeased he was going to ruin my nice evening. “It’s going to be a party.”

My mind
raced trying to figure out a solution to keep the mood going with lots of people descending upon us.

“
Ryan, do you want to hang down here, or we could go up to my bedroom where we can still talk?” I suggested hesitantly.

Ryan smiled at me and I could see the relief in his eyes.

“Your bedroom. I don’t need a party,” Ryan said.

“I agree.
I’m not up for more craziness, had enough already,” I said as I got up off the couch and took the dishes from the table to the sink and ran water on them. I left my unfinished steak on the counter.
Someone would finish it.

“Ryan, grab that other bottle of wine,” I said as
I closed the screen on the fireplace.

Ryan went to the kitchen and opened the second bottle. I picked up our glasses up from the coffee table and waited in the doorway for him to finish. He put the cork back in part way as he looked up at me. I motioned with my head down the hall. I was sure he knew where my bedroom was; it was the one next to the bathroom where he’d showered. The white bedspread with red cherries on it
should have made it obvious. As I shut the bedroom door, I heard Pat’s car in the driveway.

Ryan
walked over and sat down on the bed, setting the bottle on my nightstand. I handed him his glass of wine. We sat in silence and listened while more cars arrived. The group that Pat had invited came noisily into the house: the door slammed, glasses clinked, cabinets opened and shut, music turned on, then up. I heard someone get into the linen closet in the hall, getting towels. Finally the party moved outside to the hot tub.

“
Pat and some of the others will know it’s me by the van,” Ryan said. “Are you worried about that?”

“No.
Everyone knows we’re friends. I don’t really care what they think,” I said.

As we talked
, Ryan tried to help me sort out my feelings of dread. He asked more about Mathew and Max and made some valid points. We pushed the pillows against the headboard and got more comfortable on the bed. While we talked I kept noticing his lips and had the urge to kiss him. Since Ryan had not been to keen on me dating other guys with Max still in the picture I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be open to my kiss. He rolled onto his side at one point resting his head in his hand, and in doing so he moved closer to me. I could smell the Irish Spring soap from our shower on him.