Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (7 page)

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Authors: Becky McGraw

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #contemporary romance, #western romance, #cowboy romance, #becky mcgraw

BOOK: Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way)
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Take your shower, and put those
on your eye. Catch a few hours on the couch, then get the hell out
of here, Ryan.” Her eyes raked him to his toes, then back up. “But
Heather is around and she’s not
family,
so put some clothes
on when you come out.” She turned her back, and forced nonchalance
into her tone as she finished, “I’ll probably be gone when you get
up. I have things to do tomorrow. Have a safe trip back to
wherever.”

She had taken two steps when Ryan drawled,
“Twyla?” His deep, now less nasally voice skated along her nerve
endings.

Stopping, she slowly turned around and gasped.
The towel was now pooled at his feet, and Ryan leaned negligently
against the vanity, buck naked, grinning from ear to ear. Because
she couldn’t stop them, her eyes followed the thin trail of hair
that bisected his tight abs downward to his semi-erect penis. It
was thick and long, and a vein pulsed from the base along the side
to the thick head. Her breathing hitched, moisture gathered between
her legs, and a weird throb started at the apex of her thighs. She
slammed her eyes shut, wanting to forget what she’d just seen.
Wanting to remember just as badly, so she had some point of
reference in the future.


What game are you playing, Ryan?
It’s not funny. If Zack knew he’d kill you.”


He’s probably going to do that
anyway. But I’m not leaving here until you come back with me,” he
said smoothly, then cleared his throat. “Whatever it takes to get
you to do that.”

Whatever it takes
? Her mind quickly put
together his naked display with that phrase and came up with his
exact meaning. This rodeo Romeo was telling her he was willing to
sleep with her to get her to go back with him. He was offering her
a sympathy fuck.

Well Twyla might be hard up, because of him
and her damned brother, but she wasn’t a fucking charity case. Her
eyes locked on his dick and she issued a dry, harsh laugh. “Well
cowboy, I’m sure that little sprout satisfies those buckle bunnies
just fine, but I’m used to um, more mature men.” She moved her eyes
up to his shocked blue gaze. “But your balls sure are big enough
that’s for sure.”

His face flushed and his hands shot down to
cover himself. Twyla threw back her head and laughed loudly.
Shaking her head, she turned away, and heard the bathroom door slam
shut behind her as she walked to her bedroom. She took one of her
pillows and a blanket off of her bed, and walked to the couch to
throw them over the back with disgust. If Ryan Easter wasn’t out of
there tomorrow, she was definitely going to let Heather call the
cops to get him out.

His stupidity a moment ago had been the final
straw. Twyla Taylor was definitely over Ryan Easter, or she would
be as soon as her stupid heart got on board with the plan. She was
well on her way to being there now though. If that man ever wanted
to find a woman who would put up with his dumb ass, he needed to
get over himself. Twyla knew one thing for sure, she wasn’t woman
enough for the job.

CHAPTER
FIVE

Ryan woke up to pans banging loudly and
groaned. Every muscle in his body was rubber-band tight, and a
spring from the old sofa had almost embedded itself in his hip. He
tried to open his eyes and they seemed to be welded shut. Ungluing
them, one opened and felt like sandpaper was inside the lid. The
other didn’t open, then he remembered the bar fight, and the macing
he’d gotten from Heather last night. Bright sunlight shot through
the crack in the drapes at the front window to pierce his brain.
Ryan groaned and flopped his forearm over his eyes.


I hear you rustling in there,
buddy. Get your ass up and on the road,” Twyla said loudly from the
kitchen, punctuating her demand by slamming a skillet or something
down on the stove.

The metallic rattle echoed in his skull. That
woman had no mercy at all, no compassion that just last night he’d
gotten his ass kicked by not one, but three people. By a man who
should be a professional boxer or wrestler, and two fucking wild
ass, crazy cowgirls. That last part was pretty embarrassing. A man
who had been a professional cowboy since he grew hair on his balls
had gotten his ass kicked good by those two women, after the
bruiser worked him over.

Maybe he should just load up in his truck and
head to Santa Fe, their next stop on the tour. Let Zack come here
on their next break to hogtie his sister and haul her back with
him. Good luck with that. Ryan was starting to believe neither he
or Zack were man enough for the job. But he knew if Zack came here
and saw what Twyla was up to, there might not be anything left of
her for him to haul home. He would probably just kill her and hide
the body to save his parents the disgrace. Ryan knew that’s what it
would be too. A disgrace.

Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were upright, forthright
and straight shooters. They had worked exceptionally hard to give
their kids a good upbringing with the right morals. Hell, he knew
they’d set a good example for him, something his own family sure as
hell hadn’t. That’s why he knew what he needed to do now. Whatever
it took to get Twyla out of here, away from her crazy friend who
was leading her down the path to perdition.

If he was lucky, if Twyla was lucky, they’d
never find out. Ryan owed it to them to stay and try to talk some
sense into their youngest member, and he wasn’t leaving before he
did that. If he could accomplish that by Wednesday, he’d have
enough time for them to make Santa Fe by their first ride on
Thursday night.

But it looked like his unfriendly host wasn’t
going to let him stay here. So that meant he’d be sleeping in his
truck tonight, because he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. Ryan
threw back the light blanket and sat up, biting back a moan when a
sharp pain shot through his skull. His nose felt like it was
packed, and he knew it wasn’t. He’d removed the damned tampon last
night, and hadn’t repacked it. Gingerly, he reached up and felt the
swollen bridge for obvious signs it was broken. Last night, he’d
looked and didn’t think it was. This morning, it sure
felt
like it was. The bag of peas Twyla had given him had helped some,
but they melted.


You have another bag of peas?” he
asked gruffly, his voice rusty and still sounding like he had the
head cold from hell.


No peas, and no room at the inn
tonight. Get going, Ryan. We have things to do today. Heather
already left to teach her dancing class, and I’ve got to get out of
here too.”

Heather was gone. This might be his only
opportunity to talk to Twyla alone.

Ryan swung his legs over the edge of the sofa
and stood, then raised his arms over his head to work out the kinks
in his spine. With a deep sigh he turned toward the kitchen, and
found Twyla staring at his crotch through the serving window at the
breakfast bar. That meant she had been staring at his ass before he
turned around. His morning wood, became California-sized redwood,
as her eyes continued to scorch him through his underwear. He
covered himself.

Sprout, huh
? Now that he wasn’t
embarrassed and angry, he did see the humor in her comment. Her
sharp tongue had always been something Ryan lov—um, liked about
Twyla. He enjoyed sparring with her, because he never knew what she
was going to come out with.

The only reason he’d done what he had last
night was because she’d used that sharp tongue to bait him to drop
the towel. He definitely hadn’t meant he would have sex with her to
get her to come home with him. That’s what she thought he meant
though. Because it was on her mind. Had been on her mind for a very
long time, and his too. There was no way Ryan was giving in to that
urge now though. He’d fought it too damned long to give in now. The
consequences of doing that were too great. He couldn’t do that to
his surrogate family.

But he could get a little retribution for her
comment. “Thought you weren’t interested? You’re sure staring like
you are,” he accused with a wry grin. Her blue eyes swung up to his
and she looked surprised, as if she hadn’t realized she’d been
staring a hole through him.

Twyla wasn’t slick like he was. Ryan caught
her staring often, and honestly felt bad for her. But not as bad as
he felt for himself. That look she got in her eyes ripped at his
insides and made it damned tough to keep his hands off of her.
Because of that look, every woman Ryan was with wore her face when
he closed his eyes. It was just sick. Pathetic.

It had to stop so they could both find peace.
If it didn’t, they’d end up with hard feelings that could drive a
wedge between them forever. Ryan had started that process with his
harsh words to push her away the other night. He knew he had pushed
too far this time.

That’s why she’d left, and was here now. An
honest conversation with her might go a long way to smoothing
things between them. But to have it, he would need the balls she
accused him of having last night. Ryan wasn’t sure at the end of
it, that she would understand any better why they needed to remain
friends, but he had to try.

Twyla looked down and shifted the skillet to
flip the egg she was frying without answering, which told him she
was the one embarrassed now.

He sighed heavily. “Twy, we need to
talk.”


I have nothing to say to you,
Ryan. You just need to leave.” Her voice was as flat as the egg in
that skillet.

He walked into the kitchen, stood beside her
at the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry for
what I said to you the other night. It was wrong, and I only did it
to push you away.” He swallowed hard and worked up his courage.
“What if I told you I want you as much as you want me? Have for
years….”

Her breathing hitched, her shoulders
tightened, but she still didn’t look at him. “That’s bullshit and
you know it. I’m not buying it, Ryan, and I’m not coming back with
you, or sleeping with you if that’s what you’re after. You had your
chance.” She shook the skillet extra vigorously over the eye on the
stove, sliding the egg around like a hockey puck, showing the level
of her agitation. “Give it up and just go back.”


That’s not bullshit, Twy. It’s
the truth,” Ryan replied evenly. “And trust me. Saying that to you
is not for the purpose of sleeping with you. That’s what I am
trying to avoid. Going there would be bad for both of us, and for
the family. We can work this out, if you’ll just talk to me instead
of running off.” A weight seemed to float off of his shoulders, but
plopped back down when she slammed the skillet on the stove and
turned her angry blue eyes on him.

Her hand shook as she glanced down at the knob
to turn off the burner. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
Twyla growled, shooting him an angry glare as she tried to brush
past him.

Ryan grabbed her arm. “We need to work this
out, honey. For us, and for the family.”

Her angry blue eyes locked on his and the
corner of her full lips curled. “
My
family is fine, and I am
now too. There’s nothing to work out. I hopped off the
merry-go-round when I left you in Tulsa. You have nothing to worry
about now. It’s over, Ryan.”

It wasn’t over by a long shot. His heart
squeezed in his chest and he swallowed hard. “I know it pisses you
off, but I think of them as my family too. They
are
my
family.”

Hell, Ryan had lived with the Taylors since he
was a sixteen-year-old runaway. Thank God when his mother found him
she had the good sense to just leave him there. Lord knew what
would’ve happened if she’d have forced him to go back and live with
her and her new husband. He’d probably be in jail for killing the
man.

He almost had when he paid her a visit when he
was eighteen. Ryan hadn’t been back since, in twelve years, but he
knew they’d moved to a small town outside of Houston. Just far
enough from the Taylors’ home in Dallas, his home base when he
wasn’t on the road, for him to keep his distance. The restraining
order Clarence James had gotten against him was a sure visit to
jail if he couldn’t keep that distance.

The irony that the courts had awarded the
abuser the restraining order against the person trying to save the
abused wasn’t lost on Ryan. The system sucked, as far as he was
concerned. But until his mother chose to step up and save herself,
he couldn’t do anything to help her. Somehow he’d managed to stop
worrying about her every day a few years ago. That didn’t mean he
didn’t worry though. He just tried not to let it consume him like
he had before.

Twyla sighed heavily, and jerked her arm from
his grasp. “Fine, they’re your family too. I won’t be around much,
so tell mama I love her when you see her.”

She went to turn away, but Ryan grabbed her
shoulders and spun her back around. “You are my family too,
Twy!”

She shook her shoulders free. “Then you’re a
perverted son-of-a-bitch, because you just told me you wanted me a
minute ago. Make up your mind, Ryan. I’m dizzy from this shit.
Enough is enough. Just leave me alone!”

Ryan was just as dizzy as she was from it. He
was confused, frustrated and about at the end of his rope here. He
wished she’d just talk to him…or at least listen. The problem was,
now that he’d admitted the secret he’d kept for ten years, he had
no idea what else he wanted to say to her. And Twyla was right, he
was a perverted son-of-a-bitch evidently, because he couldn’t drag
his eyes off of her pert ass as she stomped off toward the bedroom.
He reached down to stroke his painful erection, and growled out his
frustration as she slammed the bedroom door.

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