Lone Heart: Red Hot Weekend (2 page)

He nodded, then sighed. “Do I make you nervous?”

She forced a laugh—and told a lie. “No. But I’m late.”

“Yeah. I can see that. Can I buy you a drink some other time?”

Why was he so insistent? “Look, it was just a dance. And it was nice.”

“Nice? Huh.” His lips twisted, then settled into a slight smile. “I made you nervous. Made you want something more than you were prepared to give. I apologize.”

“I’m not nervous. I’m not anything other than late.”

He stepped closer, and her heartbeat thudded. The parking lot was dark—not that she was frightened of him—but the closer he came, the more her body responded. She held up her hands. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’m gonna kiss you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

“Why?”

His shrug was casual, but the set of his chin wasn’t. “Why not? You want it. So do I.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then why’d you just lick your lips?”

“Wha—” Good lord, she had.

“Just a kiss,” he said, close enough now she had to lift her chin to meet his gaze.

Damn, she’d forgotten how to breathe. “If I give you that kiss, will you let me go?”

“Negotiating with me now?” He tipped back his hat and a grin stretched slowly across his mouth. “What if you don’t want me to let you go when I’m done?”

Charli shook her head, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of her lips. She realized with a start she was flirting—something she hadn’t done in years. “Are you always this stubborn when a girl turns you down?” she asked, letting a teasing note seep into her breathless whisper.

“Have you? Turned me down, that is?” His hands rose and gripped the corners of her hips. He pressed her back against the cooling metal of her truck. When his head lowered, his hat blocked the light from the moon and distant lamppost, shuttering them in darkness.

His mouth was firm and soft, sweet and spicy. His tongue prodded the seam where her lips pressed together. She wanted to remain strong, but the thought of this handsome younger man and all that firm muscle pressed up against her made her yearn for things she had no business wanting.

She opened, moaning as his tongue swept inside her mouth.
I can do this. Keep it light. Dammit, Charli, keep it light.

Her hand slid across the top of his shoulder; her fingers snuck beneath his hat to pull his hair. And just that quickly, the sweet, sexy tenor of the kiss changed.

Lonny groaned into her mouth.

Her thighs opened, and he slid his between them, resuming the grinding pressure that had broken through her walls while they’d danced.

When his hand palmed her breast, she laughed against his mouth. She was as horny as a teenager, uncaring who saw them standing like this.

I should stop him now. I should. Oh God, I should…

His hand slid down her belly and slipped open her belt, unbuttoning her jeans, and then his fingers were gliding down the front of her panties. They cupped her mound.

Shocked, she grabbed his wrist to stop him and drew her head back. “That’s…far enough.”

He held still, his hand warming her sex. “Sorry, I pushed.” But he didn’t withdraw, just stood there, his breaths coming fast.

“Your hand…”

“Likes where it is.”

A snort of laughter broke the tension inside her. “Seems we’re at an impasse, cowboy.”

“Let me pleasure you.”

Her breath caught at the slight movement of one of his fingers as it delved into the top of her folds. Without consciously agreeing, she widened her thighs again, making room for him.

Her head fell back against warm metal. “Don’t think I’ll let you do more.”

“I’m not asking for anything in return. Just relax.”

With the stars blanketing the sky behind him, she relented, closing her mind to all her worries, to her embarrassment. His finger teased moisture from her folds and swirled atop her clit. The contrast between his calloused pad and soft, measured motions drew a sigh.

“You’re prettier than you know,” he whispered, leaning a shoulder against the truck to block the view of what he was doing should anyone exit the bar.

She had a hard time forming words to deny his claim. At this moment, she did indeed feel pretty, wholly feminine, as he plied her hardening knot with ever-firming caresses. “I’m older than you.”

“I noticed.”

“Not nice.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Because you don’t have to worry about me thinking there’s more to this?”

He nipped her nose and then her bottom lip. “I like a smart woman, one with experience. I’m not always the smartest guy.”

“You want some woman to take care of you?”

“Same as I’d take care of her. Aren’t I takin’ care of you now?”

She smiled, but his finger pressed hard. Her lips puckered around a sharper breath.

“That too much?”

She shook her head. “More,” she whispered.

A hand cupped one breast, massaging it, soothing her as her hips began to move, deepening his intimate caress. Quivers worked their way up her thighs to her belly, and she gasped and turned her face away. It was one thing to allow a stranger to finger her, quite another for him to watch the vulnerability creep across her face as she came.

“Gettin’ close?” he rasped, nearer now.

“Let’s not talk.”

“You don’t have to say or do a thing. My gift. I’m pretty good at pleasuring a woman. Like using more than a finger though. If we had a bed, I’d spread you out, use my tongue, my teeth. There wouldn’t be a part of you I wouldn’t tease.”

“Jesus, stop talkin’.” Too late. The images were branded in her mind. Her naked, his brawny body bent over her sex.

One last, swirling scrape and she jerked, a tiny whimper leaking between her bitten lips. He held her up when her knees weakened, leaned her head against his chest, and slowly withdrew his hand.

When he cupped her chin and raised her face, she didn’t try to argue with him again. They kissed—a carnal mating which left them both dragging air into starved lungs as he straightened. He waited while she set her clothing to rights, then opened the door of her truck and handed her up into the cab. “Sure you’re okay to drive?”

Dazed, she nodded. “I’m fine.” She felt like she should say something else, but
thanks
didn’t feel appropriate.

He didn’t seem to need an acknowledgement of his gift, tipping the brim of his hat and turning away—but not before she saw his grin.

He looked very pleased with himself, but not quite smug.

Her own lips were softly curved as she pulled away from the parking lot and onto the lonely highway.

Chapter Two

Lone put the used pickup he’d bought the day before into park and cut off the engine. It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for the air inside the cab to heat to a boil in the summer sun. He glanced at his face in the rearview mirror, combed his fingers through his shaggy hair and put on his hat, then opened the cab door and stepped out onto the caliche drive beside the one-story log house.

The foreman had told him be there at noon sharp. That he and the owner of the ranch would interview Lonny. But after Lonny had listed his previous work experience on the phone the evening before, the foreman’s only question had been, “Could I count on you to be here through winter?”

Lonny was pretty sure he had the job. It didn’t pay squat, but he liked the town and wanted to stay a while. Wasn’t much to it, just a hatch mark of two-lane streets, but the folks he’d met, other than the bartender, had been friendly. He figured the man behind the bar might have been jealous of the woman he’d danced with, because the man’s surly stare had followed them the entire time.

The woman was another reason he’d decided to stay. He couldn’t exactly say why. She was attractive enough, although she’d been dressed plainly in jeans and an old plaid work shirt and hadn’t worn a hint of makeup. However, she’d felt just right when he’d held her close, smelled of horse, soap and strawberries—likely the shampoo she’d used on her silky brown hair, because when he brought her close, the pleasing aroma had been stronger.

All those things had been nice, even her lean, muscular body, but it had been her eyes—large, brown and so expressive—that had drawn him in. She’d wanted him, but had been wary. Of hurt, perhaps? Or disappointment? He wanted to know. Perhaps once the mystery was solved, she wouldn’t linger in his mind.

She was older than he was by just a few years, but that didn’t really bother him. Honey had been older, but so sweet and sexy he wouldn’t have minded calling her his. However, she’d needed True as much as his brother needed her.

He was happy for them. But there was still an ache inside him for what could have been, which haunted him when he was alone at night. The thought of having someone share his bed, his thoughts, his dreams, had never been something he’d yearned for until he’d seen how it worked with Honey and True.

Now he wanted that for himself, but he hadn’t found it in all the usual places. He certainly hadn’t found it on the circuit with a never-ending string of buckle bunnies or any of the women pursuing their own rodeo dreams.

In his heart, he knew it was time to get on with his life. Find the woman he was meant to love. If it meant following a few false leads now and then, so be it. It wouldn’t make him bitter. True had protected his heart after the disappointment of his first marriage, determined never to hurt like that again. It had taken having Honey underfoot, impossible to ignore, to open him up again.

Lonny had learned from his brother’s experience. He’d be open to love, because he was ready for it. Ready for a family of his own. If “love” wasn’t the woman he’d romanced the night before, then he’d set his sights farther down the road.

He slapped his hat against his thigh and plopped it on his head, and then climbed the steps up to the wraparound porch.

The heavy wooden front door opened as he approached the house, and a cowboy a few years older than himself stood in the doorway. “You Lone Wyatt?”

“It’s my name.”

“Strange damn name.” His tone was flat, but his eyes held a hint of masculine challenge.

Lonny grinned, sure he was meeting the foreman, and that the other man was only prodding him to see how he reacted. “My mamma would take exception, but if it bothers you so much, you can call me Lonny.”

The corners of the man’s mouth twitched. He held out his hand. “Name’s Drew Fremont.” He stood aside and waved Lonny through the door. “Go on back down the hallway. Miz Kudrow’s waitin’ for us. We don’t stand on formality, but you will take your hat off inside the house.”

Lonny cleared his throat and removed his hat, hating the flush that crept up the back of his neck. The other man hadn’t needed to scold him like a child. He walked quietly down the hallway, admiring the golden oak floors and clean white stucco walls with pictures of horses, cowboys herding cattle—and a man and woman on their wedding day, looking so happy Lonny had to glance twice to place the face of the woman because she was different. She’d worn lipstick and her face was younger, her expression
radiant
as she stood gazing at the handsome man beside her.

So she
was
married. His chest tightened and his stomach dropped to his toes. How the hell had he gotten so unlucky as to pick her ranch?

“The office is at the end of the hallway,” Drew called after him.

Lonny shook his head, wondering how he could extricate himself from this situation, and turned the doorknob. Inside, the woman from the bar, the one he’d fingered to completion, looked up from a large desk that was too big for her and masculine. Where the hell was the mister?

Her gaze rose, then widened. Her jaw dropped an inch before it snapped shut again. A wild blush suffused her cheeks. “Mr. Wyatt?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

He tilted his head. “Ma’am?” He kept his voice purposely uninflected while he gave her a piercing stare.

Drew passed him, taking up a position beside the desk. “Lonny’s the one who called about the job, Charli.”

Lonny stood frozen beneath her appalled stare until Drew indicated Lonny should take the chair across from Charli Kudrow.

Charli shook her head and swallowed hard. She glanced down at her desk, her eyes blinking rapidly as she slowly closed the ledger she’d been working on. Stalling for a moment, he was sure.

When she looked back up, her blush had receded. Her eyes snapped with fire. “You understand the pay’s not much. I expected someone younger…or older.”

He understood what she meant. A younger cowboy would hire on for the experience; an older hand wouldn’t mind the money because he’d be grateful for the work. “I was interested. The pay was adequate.”

“Was?”

Lonny didn’t clarify his words, not with Drew sitting beside them, his brows furrowing as he and Charli shared glances that held a certain familiarity.

“Your husband out of town?” Lonny asked, a subtle edge in his tone, one she picked up on because her face paled.