Cowgirls Don't Cry (7 page)

Boots stared out the window. He didn’t look at her as he continued. “Your daddy wanted to leave you something, baby girl. A legacy. A way to find your own roots, and he hoped you’d put those roots down here.”

Cass sucked in a long breath and held it a moment to ease the tightness in her chest. It didn’t help. Despite the burning tears filling her eyes, she managed to choke out the words. “I didn’t know how bad he was, Uncle Boots. I should have come sooner.”

“He didn’t want you to know, hon. He even hid it from me for a long time. But gettin’ ahold that little stud was his final gift to you. It’s up to you, Cassidy Anne. What are you going to do with it?” The old man’s eyes twinkled as winked at her. “And what are you gonna do about that young buck sniffin’ around you in the barn?”

Seven

C
hance pulled up in the yard and parked. He sat for a moment, feeling far too much like a high school boy on his first date. The fact they’d been caught all but
in flagrante delicto
in the barn that afternoon didn’t bother him. But the look Boots had given him did. The old man knew who he was, but Chance could not figure out why he hadn’t told Cass. He needed to have a little chat with Boots Thomas.

His cell phone chimed, and he glanced at the caller ID. Barron Security—Cash calling from the office. He answered with a blunt, “What’s up?”

“I’ve been following up on the paper trail on that colt the old man wants.”

Chance rubbed his forehead. He’d all but forgotten about the colt between his efforts to dodge filing the lawsuit to foreclose on the ranch and reining in his wayward thoughts about the woman he was supposed to ruin. “This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“You’re sitting at Ben Morgan’s place, aren’t you?”

“Dammit, Cash. Are you tracking me?”

“What
do you think? Gotta love built-in GPS on the smartphones.”

Grimacing at the virtual leash, Chance steered the conversation back the subject. “What about the colt?”

“Registration papers just popped up with the AQHA. Ownership’s been transferred. To Cassidy Morgan. Makes me wonder how a horse the old man had in his sights suddenly pops up in her name, and that makes me curious about her interest in you, bro.”

Chance considered the possibilities. He’d seen her face in the barn when Boots showed her the colt. She’d seemed surprised. If he ever had to play cards with someone, he wanted it to be Cass. She had the worst poker face in the world. Besides, how would she or her father know that Cyrus was after the same horse? The facts just didn’t add up. Sure, women always had angles to get close to or take advantage of the Barron brothers. He didn’t believe Cassie was one of them.

“Who signed off on the registration? American Quarter Horse Association doesn’t require a principal to file the papers.”

“Former owner, as her agent.”

He pondered that information, still not convinced of her culpability. “Doesn’t mean she knew it was happening.”

“Why are you defending her, Chance? Wait, don’t tell me. She’s pretty, and you’re a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

“Shut up, Cash.”

“Then why haven’t you filed the paperwork dealing with calling in the loan and preserving the collateral?”

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Just following the old man’s orders, big brother. Which is something you’d better start doing. He wants that land and the colt. Cassidy Morgan has both. You’ve been jackin’ around too long and spending way more time sniffing around that little gal than in your office taking care of business. It’s time to get in, kill two birds with one stone and get the hell out. Simple.”

Simple? Chance closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead again. Nothing about Cassidy Morgan was simple. Nothing about this acquisition was simple. Once upon a time, life had been. He’d wanted to ride the rodeo circuit, then settle down to run the family cattle business and breed some excellent horses on the side. Unfortunately, the old man had different ideas. He’d steered each of his sons into a profession. A short bark of laughter escaped at the thought. Cyrus Barron didn’t steer. He bullied, hammered, demanded and dragged his sons kicking and screaming all the way. His old man always got what he wanted.

Movement on the front porch caught his attention. Boots stepped to the rail, staring at him. “I gotta go, Cash.”

“Just get it done, Chance.”

Opening the door, he stepped out of the truck and met Boots halfway to the house. The older man squared off, hands on his hips, jaw jutting, looking a bit like a bulldog ready to defend his territory.

“I just have one thing to say to you, boy.”

Chance bristled. No one, not even his father called him
boy
. “Then say it, old man.”

“You hurt that little gal, I’ll hunt you like the junkyard dog I know you are.”

Chance rocked back, surprised by the direction this conversation had taken.

“I recognized you, Chance Barron, when you walked into the barn that first time. And I know all about the bad blood between her daddy and yours.”

“Then why haven’t you told Cass?”

“Because I haven’t figured out your angle. Given what I saw this afternoon, maybe you do have feelings for her. That said, I don’t have to like you, and I dang sure don’t have to trust you.” Boots glanced toward the house then looked him up and down. “You better tell her who you really are. She’s just like her daddy—never could abide a liar.”

“I’m not...” His voice trailed off. He wasn’t a liar. He might not tell the whole truth, or he might bend it, but he didn’t lie. Besides, he wasn’t under oath. He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “Does it matter, Mr. Thomas? She’s headed back to Chicago soon anyway.”

“Maybe.”

Chance stared, wondering about the cryptic reply. As an attorney, he was used to having all the aces up his sleeve. He’d been half a step behind since seeing Cass at that hotel in Chicago. “As far as I know, she intends to go back to her job. They won’t give her compassionate leave forever.”

The front door opened, and Cass stepped out. He stood transfixed, the conversation with Boots forgotten. Her blond hair looked like spun silk, and the light shining from the house bathed her in a halo. This was the first time he’d seen her wearing anything remotely feminine—besides those killer boots in Chicago. The skirt she wore hugged her hips and left her long legs in plain sight. A lacy turquoise tank left just enough of the rest of her to the imagination. He swallowed. Hard. Ignoring Boots, he stepped toward her.

“Wow.” She smiled, and he gulped again. “You look terrific.”

Her cheeks pinkened, and she dropped her gaze. When she looked up, her eyes twinkled and crinkled at the corners. “Happy to see you, too, cowboy.”

* * *

He was so busted. She laughed at the expression on his face when he figured out what she meant. He
was
happy to see her. And she was happy to see him. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy turned her on like Chance. Her breasts swelled as she inhaled. Just thinking about the kiss they’d shared had her all but panting. She cut her eyes to look at him and noticed his gaze dropped to her chest. She cleared her throat, and his head jerked up, his expression guilty as he met her eyes. She bit back a laugh. Busted again, but she didn’t mind.

He made her feel sexy and desirable, so she made a bit of a show when she fastened her seat belt. Oh, yeah. He noticed.

“So, where are you taking me to dinner?”

He had to lick his lips before he spoke. Yes, her outfit definitely had the desired effect. She’d been ready to make love to him in the barn. She was more than ready to explore that aspect of things as soon as they finished dinner.

He started the truck and maneuvered it back toward the road before he glanced over, gave her an appreciative smile and replied. “I thought we’d go to Old Chicago.” She flashed a “you’ve got to be kidding me” face at him and he laughed. “You have to admit, it’s fitting, all things considered.”

Cass rolled her eyes but resisted sticking out her tongue. “Well, if that’s the case, I should have dressed for comfort...” She liked teasing him.

“Actually, I thought we might head down to Bricktown. Since you haven’t been home in a while, I think you’ll be surprised.”

“Any place in particular?”

He chuckled. “Well, Toby Keith’s place makes great chicken-fried steak.”

“And this is your idea of a big date?”

“You’ve never seen the size of that chicken fry.”

She laughed. “Okay. We’ll go eat at Toby’s. I’m starved.”

* * *

After dinner—which included chicken-fried steak the size of a plate—Chance suggested a walk along the Bricktown canal. Amazed, Cass stared at the renovated brick factory buildings, the lights, the bustle of the crowd. Boats cruised by, and she caught snatches of the drivers’ patter as they pointed out the sights to those on the tour.

Chance held her hand as they strolled. Nerves had nothing to do with her excitement. This was all about the sparks of sexual tension first ignited in the barn. Yet if she was honest, there was something more. Something deeper. Heck yeah, this man turned her on, but at the same time she felt a connection to him. When she fantasized about being with him, it wasn’t...sex. Oh, it was sexy. Sexy as hell, but it was more. She wanted more. She wanted to make love to him. She wanted to explore that tenuous bond developing between them.

Cass glanced up, realized he’d been watching her and had to resist the urge to fan her face. She really wished her face didn’t betray her moods so easily. He squeezed her hand and tugged her closer to him. Stopping in the middle of the walk, they forced people to step around them. She didn’t care.

She’d never been in love, didn’t have a clue what it felt like. Lust? Oh, yeah. She knew all about that flash-in-the-pan heat that burned hot and fast between a man and a woman. And dissipated just as quickly. With this man, though, it was a slow burn like banked embers radiating heat. Cass raised her face, and he obliged her by dropping a gentle kiss on her lips.

They stared at each other, ignoring both snickers and rude remarks from the people they blocked. She wanted to get lost in his eyes, in his arms, despite the prickle of unease tapping on her shoulder. Her parents had loved deeply, and her dad’s world had shattered when her mom died. Only three when it happened, she remembered the crushing sadness—even now. And she wondered. Was that why she’d never let go? Never fully trusted a man enough to let him into her heart?

Could
this
man be the one? She didn’t know him. But she did. On some deep level, she recognized their connection. Not that she believed in soul mates or anything. But her parents’ relationship had been soul-deep and abiding. And love at first sight, according to her mother’s diaries.

Chance didn’t move. He watched Cass, curious about her thoughts. Emotions danced across her face, changing her expressions. Her soft gaze held him mesmerized. Time seemed to stop, and he was afraid to do anything that might break the mood. He wanted to capture the smile she offered him—hold it and save it in a wooden box where it would be safe. That smile was a treasure greater than anything in his family’s bank vault.

A couple of college kids brushed past them and one of them muttered, “Get a room.”

With the spell broken, Chance led Cassie back to the lot where he’d parked his truck, guided her inside and lingered a moment with the door open. He leaned in, and his lips brushed across hers.

“Now or never, darlin’. We goin’ back to my place or am I takin’ you home?”

“Your place.” Not a moment’s hesitation there. She wanted him—his hands on her bare skin, and hers on his. She wanted to explore him with her fingertips, learn his contours. She wanted to kiss him. All over. She remembered to breathe.

“My place.” The words came out in a possessive growl.

The drive was a blur, but she vaguely noted it when he pulled the truck into some sort of garage. As he rushed her to an elevator, she caught a glimpse of a dark metallic sports car parked back in the shadows—one that looked expensive. The elevator doors slithered open, and he urged her inside. He was a condo cowboy, and that made her giggle. He arched a brow but didn’t say anything, or kiss her. He’d snugged her close to his side right after he hit the floor button but made no other moves. She could feel his heartbeat against her arm, and his quickened breath ruffled her hair.

The doors parted, and they got out. Chance fumbled with the door lock but managed to finally get it open. He ushered her inside, kicked the door shut with a booted foot and grabbed her—not roughly, but with force. Again she was struck by the gentle strength in his big hands as they wrapped around her upper arms. He tugged her to him. Her breasts collided with the muscular wall of his chest as his lips sealed against hers. He kissed her hard, his mouth hungry and demanding, and he sucked her breath away before his lips gentled and he angled his head, nibbling her lips like they were dessert. He sighed—actually sighed—and kissed his way along her jaw. Her knees trembled, and his grip slipped from her biceps as his arms encircled her. Her arms snaked around his neck, and she tilted her head up for more kisses.

“Cards game?” His voice sounded a little breathless.

“What game?” So did hers.

Chance scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She caught a glimpse of the city skyline out the window before he hit a button and the drapes slithered close. One small part of her brain, the part still semicoherent and sane, wondered at the high tech but he kissed her again, and all reason disappeared.

Undressing devolved into a frenzy of buttons, zippers and tossed clothes. Naked, panting for breath, they stared at each other, eyes roving appreciatively. Cass blushed and dropped her gaze for a moment. She wasn’t a model by any stretch of the imagination. Curvy. A real woman, not a stick figure. That’s what she was and despite Hollywood, she would embrace her body. She squared her shoulders and raised her head. The heat from Chance’s gaze almost rocked her backward. He licked his lips while he clenched and unclenched the fists at his sides, as if he was struggling to hold them there to keep from touching her.

“You. Are. Even. More. Beautiful. Than I ever dreamed.” Each word huffed out as he panted, with the last ones rushing out in a gasp.

Before she could react, he advanced. His arms slid around her, pulled her close so her nipples brushed against the fine feathering of hair on his chest. Her tummy bumped up against something long, thick and hard. She arched and rubbed against his erection, and he groaned against her neck, distracted from the kisses he’d been planting there.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to. Keep up, I mean.”

She chuckled. “I’m a firm believer in—” She couldn’t get the last word out. He pushed her back against the bed until her knees buckled. He eased her down, his lips sealed on hers, and then dragged her across the linen bedspread. He didn’t bother turning down the covers.