“Computers?” Dash quirked an eyebrow at the older man—a dyed-in-the-wool Texas cowboy, right down to the bow-legged stance. “What, like entering info into a database?”
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Mick shrugged. “I guess. Putting in the data then looking at the bloodlines to see which animals are too closely related to breed, that sort of thing. Used to be paper studbooks, which I could make sense out of, but now it’s all on that damn machine.”
“I’ll take that trade,” Dash offered. “All our reports at the force were on computers, and I took a bunch of classes at the community college once upon a time. Computers and I get along pretty well.” Better than pretty well actually, but he didn’t like to brag.
Doing data management would give his leg a rest, besides making him feel as if he was doing something he was actually good at.
“Deal.” Mick stuck out his hand and shook it before turning to Mac. “I’ll get him going then meet you up in the north pasture in about an hour, all right?”
Mac grinned. “It doesn’t matter to me. I do enough paperwork for the bar—I’ve got no interest in adding to it. All yours, bro.”
Bro.
Dash smiled back at his half brother and shook his head. It was still weird to have this whole other family, but he liked it. He also liked Mac a lot, and they’d both come to adore Leah. There was a story there. Apparently, Mac had always known Leah was his half sister, the old man’s only legitimate child, but she’d had no idea that her father had also sired sons. It could have been a real clusterfuck when it all came out, but somehow, the two had made it work. Dash couldn’t be prouder of his newly discovered siblings.
He wished his mom could meet them, but he understood that she was uncomfortable about the idea of visiting Joe Morgan’s former home. Even more, he’d like to get her take on Carmen. He was pretty sure the two women would hit it off right away. They were both survivors who’d chosen to embrace life instead of being defeated by the odds against them.
It didn’t take long for Mick to teach Dash the basics of the database they used for stud records, and soon he immersed himself in the data. He’d known ranching was more complex than it seemed, but now he really had the chance to delve into the specifics, recording things like bloodlines, the calves’ birth records, and how much the 40
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steers sold for at market. Vaccinations, castration and artificial insemination—the information was all laid out in a straightforward manner he could read and understand.
The whole process was actually fascinating, and Dash was shocked to realize several hours had passed before one of the hands knocked on the office door to ask if Dash wanted to join them for lunch at the bunkhouse.
“No, that’s okay.” He’d packed a sandwich, planning to eat it out on the trail. He still wasn’t particularly comfortable with being in a group. Most of the ranch hands had gotten used to looking at what was left of Dash’s face, but Dash hadn’t adjusted to the quickly averted eyes or the pitying looks that still happened once in a while.
“Up to you, boss,” the man said, closing the door behind him as he left.
Boss. He hadn’t gotten used to that yet either. Half the time he still felt like an interloper on the ranch, though it did get better with each passing day. He had to admit though, the first time he’d really felt at home since he’d been in Texas had been the other night at Carmen’s kitchen table. Last night in her bed had been even more so, and yeah, he’d promised to come back tonight.
Holy shit, what was he letting himself in for?
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Carmen was singing when Dash knocked on her door that evening. He could see her through the screen door, moving around her kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans she’d probably used to make dinner, singing as she worked. He hadn’t brought flowers this time, but he had driven to the next town to buy a box of condoms, so he was running just a little bit late. He stood with his hand raised to knock on the metal-framed screen, just listening to the beauty of her gorgeous alto voice. He wasn’t sure what language—maybe Spanish or Italian—she was singing in, but he was suddenly rethinking his anti-opera stance.
It was her dog who finally noticed him, giving a soft woof of acknowledgement and nosing at the screen. Carmen stopped in the middle of her song and turned toward the door. “Dash? Is that you?”
“It is,” he replied. He had to stop and remember that she couldn’t see him from halfway across the room—it wasn’t that he had a problem with Carmen’s handicap—
sometimes he just plain forgot about it.
“Well, come on in then,” she said, turning away to set a pan in the dishwasher, which gave him a great view of her delectable ass as she bent over. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Well, I never said I wasn’t strange,” he joked as he came in and set a sack of groceries down on the table. “But at least I’m a stranger bearing chocolate.” He pulled a white cardboard bakery box out of the bag and set it on the counter. “Black Forest cake, if that’s okay.” He patted Silver’s head, finally acknowledging the furry nose pushing at his leg. “No cake for you, buster.”
Carmen’s laugh was deep and rich, setting Dash’s nerves tingling. He crossed to her in a few strides and wrapped his arms around her waist.
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“Chocolate is always welcome, and so are you. How was your day, Dash?”
“A whole lot better in the last minute or so,” he answered before leaning down to kiss her.
Her lips were sweet, opening under his instantly, welcoming him. She tasted of garlic and chili peppers along with something sweet—maybe the lemon-lime soda he saw in a can on the counter. Most of all, she tasted like Carmen, and that made him hungry for more. By the time the kiss ended, he was breathing hard and she gasped, burying her face in his chest.
“I made fajitas,” she mumbled into his shirt. “It’s all in the oven keeping warm. Be a shame to let it get all dried out because we forgot to eat dinner.”
“Be worth it,” he replied with a grin. “But more civilized, I suppose, to have dinner first.” He couldn’t resist one last kiss to the top of her head before he opened his arms and stepped back.
Her lips quirked into a crooked smile. “I’m not sure civilized is always a good thing, but my stomach was growling ten minutes ago, so we should probably eat.”
Dash followed her lead, helping move dishes to the table. “So what were you singing? Your voice is amazing.”
“Thanks,” she told him. “It was an aria from Puccini. My mother is a huge opera fan and passed it along to her daughters—which also explains the names Carmen and Aida. My sister is still convinced I got the better end of the deal, since everyone in Texas can at least pronounce Carmen.”
“Have you ever sung professionally?”
Carmen shook her head. “Opera also requires physical acting—moving around on the stage, hitting your mark, not running into scenery. So I just sing for fun. Aida did some college theater musicals, but pre-med is pretty intensive, so she only did it for her first year or so.”
“Your sister’s a doctor?”
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“Yep. Pediatrician, just like dear old dad.” Her hands moved from dish to dish effortlessly as she loaded her homemade tortilla with meat, grilled peppers and fresh salsa, again demonstrating her excellent sense of spatial memory.
“I guess that means your dad’s a physician too?”
“Yep. Runs a thriving practice in downtown Houston. My sister opened up a branch in San Antonio. Mom does the whole charity thing—board of directors for half a dozen foundations. Dad’s professional confidence took a hit when his own daughter contracted meningitis and he couldn’t save her sight, mind you, but after a while he recovered.”
“So you weren’t born visually impaired?” He chewed on a bite of his meal, enjoying the flavors of spices and meat and vegetables. Carmen was a hell of a lot better cook than he was.
“Nope. Dad was doing a stint down in Mexico for one of those international relief groups when I was little and he took us with him. Wasn’t anticipating a meningitis outbreak. Since I was three, I have some vague memories of what the world looks like for other people. Honestly, I was lucky to survive, and being mostly blind is better than some of the other neurological damage that could have happened. A lot of patients end up in worse shape.”
“Wow.” The thought of her having been so sick chilled him, even though it had been decades earlier. He set down his fajita as his stomach briefly rebelled. “That must have been scary as hell for your parents.”
“It was. Sort of like how your mother must have felt when you were shot and trapped in a burning warehouse?” She reached under the table and patted his knee.
“We all have rough spots in our lives, you know. The key is to deal with it the best you can and keep on living. Otherwise the bad shit wins.”
He felt his face warm in a flush. He could learn a lot about life from this resilient—
not to mention sexy as hell—woman.
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“Now on to more interesting topics,” she said. “I was thinking of going riding tomorrow afternoon, maybe taking the eagle with me and releasing her. You said you usually take weekends off—you want to go on a picnic?” She’d introduced him yesterday to the pale gray mare that lived in the other end of her barn from her rehab patients.
Though he had doubts about the idea of riding a horse just for fun, Dash agreed.
Any excuse to spend time alone with Carmen was a good one, besides, he’d hate to miss the eagle’s release. They talked about the ranch for a bit, and then over dessert he ended up telling her about his work on the computer records and how, for the first time, he’d felt as if he really had something to contribute.
“That’s great,” she replied, forking up a bit of the rich chocolate cake he’d brought.
“I know Leah hates the paperwork, so I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you take over that aspect of the operation. See—you’re starting to find your place. I hope that means you’re planning to stay.”
Dash’s breath caught in his chest. He had been putting off the decision on whether to stay in Texas permanently. On the one hand, his mother and stepdad were in Chicago, along with all his friends and the only life he’d ever known. However, at least here he had a job, such as it was, and he wanted to spend more time getting to know Leah and Mac—not to mention Carmen.
“I don’t have any plans to head back to Chicago,” he answered carefully. “But I’m still not sure where the future will lead.”
Her nod was easy and warm. “Of course. Living day by day is all any of us can ever really do, isn’t it? No matter how much you plan your future, fate always seems to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it.”
“You can say that again.” Some of those curves could knock the hell out of him, but some, like meeting Carmen, made life just a little bit better. That he could finally see the good in life after the last several months was a huge step in the right direction.
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* * * * *
Carmen was delighted to find there was no awkwardness this time when Dash followed her up to her bedroom. He’d helped her clean up after dinner then they’d checked on the eagle and even taken a short walk down the road to enjoy the evening breeze before returning to the cabin. As they walked up the driveway, he’d unselfconsciously pulled a gym bag from the passenger seat of his truck and slung it over his shoulder before taking her hand again to go back into the house. Silver padded along beside him as though walking around with a man were an everyday occurrence.
Dash even patted the big dog’s head and said good night before they headed up the stairs. It was both odd and oddly comfortable at the same time.
Still, there was nothing comfortable about the feelings that whipped through her body when Dash dropped his bag beside her bed and pulled her into his arms.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said with a low groan as her breasts pressed up against his chest and his arms wrapped around her. “At least sitting behind a desk hid the fact I spent half the afternoon with a hard-on.”
“You made it hard for me to think too,” she whispered, running a hand along the smooth skin of his jaw. He’d shaved before coming over. “I’d start to do something then I’d remember last night, and a little while later I’d realize I’d forgotten whatever it was I should have been doing. I’d be standing there, panting and wet, and wanting you so badly it hurt.”
“Oh Christ, don’t say that, sweetheart. You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”
He tilted his pelvis toward hers, pressing his erection into the soft flesh of her tummy.
“Wouldn’t want that,” she purred, though she couldn’t help the thrill of pure feminine power that whipped through her at the thought of bringing this strong man to such a point. “Guess we’d better get you out of them.”
Sliding her fingers down to the button-fly of his jeans, she made quick work of the fastenings before pushing the denim down to his ankles along with his cotton boxers.
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Unable to resist, she ran her hand up and down his rigid length before pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed and kneeling in front of him.
“Shoes first would have probably been smart,” she murmured.
“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He leaned back on his hands as she lifted first one foot then the other, removing his brand-new cowboy boots and heavy cotton socks.
Then she tugged his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off and moved up between his knees, laying one hand on each of his thighs. He’d pulled off his shirt while she was busy, and she leaned in to kiss the little wispy line of hair just above his navel, which pressed her chest up against his groin, teasing them both.
“You know, one thing I didn’t do last night was find out how you taste,” she murmured. She’d had a lick or two but nothing much. Now she wanted more. Taking his shaft in her hand, she ran her cheek along his length, inhaling his potent, musky scent. Holding him against her cheek, she nuzzled around the base of his cock, peppering his skin with tiny kisses as she went. Gently, she took one of his heavy testicles into her mouth, using her tongue to play with the smattering of crinkly hairs and skin while she sucked lightly at the taut orb. His low groan was enough to let her know he liked what she was doing, so she treated the other ball to the same attention, massaging his thick rod lightly with her hand all the while.