License to Love (7 page)

She wanted his shirt buttoned but could only imagine the
teasing she’d endure if she asked him. Instead she pretended not to notice his
well-defined muscles. Besides, she could stare at his blue eyes or his lips
while he chewed.

“So, Brent, do you actually cook in your crock pot?” She
tried her best to ask with a straight face.

“I don’t have it just to look at.”

Meeting his gaze, she shook her head at him in amusement.
Somehow the man could chew and grin,
and
look sexy all at the same time.
He let the opportunity to tease her pass, except for the cocky grin.

“I talked to Dale about doing some light work.” He changed
the subject. “Seems the three of you are pretty determined to keep me out of
things.”

“For your own good,” she reminded. He had a different set to
his face than she was used to seeing. Anger? An unpleasant flutter churned her
stomach. Why would she care if he were mad at her?

“I see how it is,” Brent said.

His words repeated in her head, but in another man’s voice.
Brent’s joking tone changed into ice-cold rage. She jumped up, surprised at the
vivid memory and the intense fear that came with it. For a terrifying second,
she was in her old office.

“Missy?” Brent materialized in front of her, his voice soft
and soothing. “What did I say?”

His eyes held confusion as he reached out and gently took
her arm. She pulled free and stepped back.

“Sorry. I need to go.” She grabbed her jacket and hurried
out. There were reasons why she couldn’t trust a man. She wouldn’t hide from
every male on the planet, but that didn’t mean she should let her guard down,
either.

Shaking the memory out of her head, she picked up her pace
and headed toward the stables though she didn’t have a plan.

When she walked by the pasture, Dancer trotted up to the
fence and whinnied at her.

“Well, hey.” She walked over, holding her hand out and
talking to him. His size had scared her before, but he smelled her hand in a
friendly manner that relaxed her. “I know I’m not Ben, but I’d like to be
friends.”

As if agreeing, Dancer bobbed his head before turning and
putting on a show for her. Running and bucking, he whipped around the pasture
in circles. Then he slowed his pace and returned to the fence.

“I see how you earned your name.” He was a thing of beauty,
she couldn’t deny that, but she was afraid of trusting him enough to ride him.
Sometime, though, someone needed to. And it didn’t seem like Brent planned on
it.

* * * *

“Hey, Missy!”

She jumped a foot off the ground at Brent’s yell. He stood
on his porch, waving at her.

What could he want? Sore from working so hard, she didn’t
think she could go head to head with him. He yelled again. With a sigh, she
started up his walk and then the porch.

“Looking tired, city girl. How about a good home-cooked
meal?”

Yeah, he’d make a nice meal, for the eyes anyway. She’d seen
him in shirts and jeans, but now he wore a green T-shirt, nice and snug to show
off those muscles, and sweats. They hung low on his hips and looked just too
easy to pull off.

“I meant actual food, sweetie.” He crossed his arms and
leaned against the house. “But I can change my plans.”

Did he just call her sweetie? Looking up, she saw his lips
lifted more on one side, completing his come-hither look.

Pour it on, cowboy. “I’m too hungry to think like that.”

Giving her a sorrowful shake of his head, he reached over
and opened the front door for her to go inside. Warm air swelled out, carrying
the smell of bread. She had to stop inside and breathe it in. Right behind her,
he shut the door before he laughed at the incredulous look she gave him.

“Come sit down, it’s ready.”

She washed her hands instead, and could only hope she didn’t
look like she’d spent the day working her butt off. Too bad she had. Maybe the
smell of sweat turned him on.

“Hope you like steak,” he said.

“Sure.” No, she didn’t, and she hadn’t eaten it in years.

“I can tell you don’t, but you haven’t tried mine yet.” He
set a plate in front of her. Steak, mashed potatoes, and a vegetable mix. He
brought over a loaf of quick bread and cut a slice for both of them.

Feeling like a jerk for teasing him before, she said,
“Brent, this is really nice.”

He poured wine in their glasses and sat down, his eyes
gleaming. “Try the steak.”

She cut a piece and planned to lie if it wasn’t the best
steak she ever had. But the flavor hit her and her eyes went wide.

His sexy grin flashed. “Told you.”

She knew she looked sheepish, but didn’t care. She savored
several bites before trying the potatoes.

Brent buttered a piece of bread. “Try this, then you’ll know
you owe me.”

The steak blew her away, but the bread did her in. “There’s
no way you made this.”

“Why not?” He buttered another piece for himself. This guy
could do anything and look sexy. While they ate, she tried to keep from staring
at his mouth, his hands. Her only consolation was he looked at her as much as
she eyed him. Course, he’d been doing that since they met.

He finished off his dinner and asked, “So what do you really
think of working here?”

She paused with her hand halfway to her mouth with another
bite of bread. “Oh, so you’re doing this to get some info out of me?”

“Just being neighborly is all.” He didn’t let his smile
fade. She drank the last of her wine before she answered.

“I’m sore all over,” she said. Instantly she wanted to slap
herself for being so honest, and saying something like that to him.

“I can help with that.”

I bet you could.
She looked down at his hands, so
nice and big. And strong. He stood, making her nervous, and moved behind her
chair, even while she shook her head in horror. She could count the few times
they’d touched so far, and each time filled her body in agony. Or paradise. She
couldn’t tell.

“Brent . . .”

“Relax.” His hands slid around her arms, holding her the way
he had the day he taught her to ride. She held her breath, held herself still.

She bit into her lip and closed her eyes. Don’t moan! His
hands moved up to her shoulders, applying light pressure, kneading. Waves of
pure pleasure coursed through her, relaxing her body from her shoulders down.
Her sore muscles melted along with her willpower. She gave herself up to
enjoying it. He worked his way in from her shoulders to the base of her neck
and gradually increased the pressure. Unable to fight, she leaned her head
forward.

“You’re . . . good at this.”

His thumbs ran up her neck and down to her back again. She’d
been right about his big hands. They could do magic. It’d been so long since
someone had touched her like this, taking care of her.

His warm hands moved under the collar of her shirt. Heat
spiked up in her, taking away her willpower. She gave in, surrendered, and
whimpered.

Oh, no!

“That good, huh?”

His voice flowed over her like honey. She could cry. Her
mind wouldn’t work except to think,
don’t ever stop.

He rubbed and kneaded until her head fell back. His hands
were affecting other parts of her body, places where he wasn’t actually
touching. What if he could tell?

As if he sensed he was taking her too far, he squeezed her
neck once more, then she heard him sit in the chair next to her.

She was sure she wouldn’t be able to look at him, but when
she opened her eyes, he looked soft, tender. Now, more than ever, she wanted
his hands on the rest of her.

If her voice worked, she’d thank him, but she couldn’t do
anything but stare at him. Finally, she said, “I should be getting home and
going to bed.”

“Do you think you can manage to walk home?” He stood and ran
the back of his hand softly down her face. “Or I could carry you.”

She stood and shook her head. “You might hurt your ribs all
over again.”

He followed her to the door, where she spun around. Her mind
had cleared. “The mess. I should help you clean.”

He just shook his head. “I’ll walk you home. You look
tired.”

“Relaxed might be a better word. Thank you.” Her neck and
shoulders still felt warm and loose. “Dinner was great,” she conceded.

Stopping by the front closet, they wrapped up before he
opened the door. “So no more teasing about the banjo or crock pot?”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, no. I’ve got a buzz.”

He shut the door behind her. “From one glass of wine?”

One glass? He was right, so why did she feel so light and
carefree? Once they were down the steps, he walked next to her and put his arm
across her shoulders. She shivered from the cold and leaned into him.

“I’m sorry I teased you before,” she said. He smelled so
good, she wanted to turn her face into his chest and take a deep breath. They
were quiet on the walk. She wasn’t sure why he was quiet, but she felt so
relaxed, she couldn’t think.

He walked her up to the door and opened it for her. She
searched for a way to tell him she wasn’t ready to invite him in. While she
thought about it, his other arm slid around her.

Her body willingly relaxed in his arms, but her mind
screamed. What was she doing?

He kissed the top of her head and stepped back. She met his
gaze and then wished she hadn’t.

“You’re something else, Missy.”

She managed a confused expression.

“You can trust me. Promise.” He turned and went down the
steps, waving on his way back on the road.

You can trust me.
How could he promise that? And how
did he even know she was afraid to?

* * * *

The next morning, Brent awoke and moved, turning onto his
side in bed before jolting up. His side felt great! He was back in the game. He
didn’t hear rain coming down outside, so maybe it’d be clear today.

Even though he’d been back on his feet the last few days,
Dale and Ivan hadn’t allowed him to help with anything. He didn’t pull rank and
tell them it was his ranch, because he knew they meant well. Doctor’s orders
and all. But, darn it, it’d been hard to see Missy when he couldn’t work.

He’d known if he allowed himself to get involved with her,
she’d break his heart. The thought still tormented him, but now he knew he
wouldn’t fight it. He’d work through it. He’d never get his work done if he
didn’t get her in his bed soon. That would clear his head…and maybe fix this
itch so he could stop thinking about her so much.

With that decision made, he threw back the covers, his
mission clear in his head.

He’d been using hot showers to help his injured muscles
relax. After another one, he didn’t bother with coffee or breakfast in his
haste to get outside. In the pasture, he spotted Missy and Dale in the
soup-like fog. He’d almost reached them before they heard him coming.

“Hi.” Missy watched the way he walked, just like a worried
mother would. “How’s the side?”

“Great. I don’t think I can take another day of resting.” He
waved as Dale started off. Her coat, he saw now, wasn’t red but burgundy. He
wouldn’t normally notice a thing like that, but the color went perfectly with
her skin tone. “I appreciate the way you’ve helped out around here.”

“That’s why I’m here.” She nudged his arm. “Remember?”

“You’ve certainly proved yourself.”

She gave him her beautiful smile, making him notice even
more her full, deep red lips. Her hair hung loose and wild, framing her face in
a way that made her cheekbones gracefully noticeable.

“Really? You think I’m ranch material now?”

“You can pull your own, that’s all I’m saying.” He tried to
hide his grin, but couldn’t help it anymore. And he didn’t care. She’d done
more than prove herself.

She glanced up and caught him watching her. Her smile
wavered before she looked away. Skittish as a colt, but he’d win her over.

Jeffrey trotted up and bumped Brent with his nose while
making horse murmurs and pawing at the ground. “Itching for a ride? Me, too.”

Missy raised her eyebrows at him.

“I’m fine.” He wanted to go on a ride with her and enjoy the
morning as the sun burned off the fog. Though the ground was soggy, Brent
thought they could stick to the gravel road. Once he’d talked her into it, he
added, “Besides, I’ll have to go slow so you can keep up.”

He turned and started for the stables to get their tack.
He’d seen her eyes narrow, and he didn’t need another injury now, right when he
was up to full speed. Jeffrey came behind him, and he thought he heard Missy
huff a sigh and follow suit. Whistling, he got both saddles and readied their
horses.

“Here, you lead her out.” He handed her Speckle's reins.
“Did you ride much this week? I hardly saw you around here.”

“Some.” She swung up into her saddle, as though she'd been
riding for years.

He mounted and they started off together. “Missy, I’m sorry
for the cold way I acted when you came here.”

Her eyes went wide and her brows rose.

“Never heard an apology before?” he teased. They rode side
by side out toward the main road, and he didn’t press her to say anything. He
could see her relax as they rode and he enjoyed just having her beside him,
doing something they both loved. “Look at you, a natural already.”

“A natural?” She patted her horse. “I guess I do enjoy
riding. Sure wasn’t easy that first day!” He joined in her laughing, mostly
because he loved the light and carefree sound she made. Enchanted, he couldn’t help
but be encouraged.

“So, have you worked things out with your boyfriend?” Now
that thought had popped into his mind and out his mouth. During the last week,
he’d spent far too much time wondering if she still talked to the man she’d
left, if she thought about him, and if she planned to go back to him.