Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1) (7 page)

Keeping her promise wasn’t easy
especially after Carson dropped his third egg on the floor, and the flour
canister exploded when Caleb knocked it over. She slapped a hand over her mouth
to keep in her protest as well as her chuckles, resigned to spending a good
hour cleaning up their mess.

Twenty sloppy minutes later, they sat
down to surprisingly delicious, fluffy pancakes packed with apples and
cinnamon. Carson crammed them in as fast as his fork could cut them, and
Rosemary sighed at the taste.

“Yummy. I’m impressed, Caleb. Where’d
you learn to make pancakes like this?”

“It’s the beer,” he replied casually,
swallowing a huge bite.

She almost dropped her juice glass. “You
put beer in them? You can’t feed beer pancakes to a five-year-old! What were
you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you’re pretty easy to rile
up, Carmichael.” He offered a smug snort. “Not only do you not have beer in
your fridge, but you sat there and watched us make them. Did you see a beer
bottle anywhere?”

“Um—” Rosemary felt her cheeks heat and
she rubbed at them. As Carson giggled wildly, she mumbled, “Now who’s a
smartass?”

After threatening to tie her to the
chair if she tried to help clean up, Caleb settled Carson with a sink full of
soapy water and what unbreakable utensils they’d used. As Carson stood on his
little stepstool and played at washing the dishes, Caleb scooted a chair close
to her and nibbled at her mouth. “Let’s take him to Hawthorn, let him work off
some of that energy. We can stop at Sonic and get some corn dogs and onion
rings.”

“You just ate. How can you think of
food?” But Rosemary tilted her head to give him better access to her neck,
loving the feel of his calloused fingers trailing along her arms.

“I also just had sex. Well, last night,”
he teased softly so Carson wouldn’t hear. “How can I think of getting you naked
and under me? I just can, baby.”

“Shh, jeez!” She slapped a hand over his
mouth. “You think he’s not listening but I promise you, little boys hear
everything.”

Caleb kissed her palm. “Let’s spend the
day in Hawthorn.”

The persuasive tone in his sexy voice
left Rosemary unable to form a single objection. She didn’t even try. Instead,
she slid her hand from his mouth to the back of his neck and pulled him in for
a fast, moist bite to his full bottom lip.

“Okay.”

It’d been ten years or more since Caleb
had hung out at Hawthorn. The park sat about three miles outside of Dustin, a
sprawling conglomerate of public swimming pools, several carnival rides
including a restored carousel, and a children’s museum that was a kid’s dream.

He could remember taking Rosemary here
once, during the few daylight hours when they had actually climbed out of bed
for something other than sex. Even then, he’d found ways to ambush her with
caresses and kisses. Behind the main cabana at the adult pool. Under the
bleachers on the softball field while the Dustin Lil’ Wranglers played their
hearts out. Up against one of the mammoth cottonwoods scattered through the
park, his lips devouring that sweet spot between her neck and her shoulder,
bared by the cute little sundress she’d worn. He’d had her hands pinned to the
rough bark over her head, one of her long, shapely legs wound around his waist,
when a park official strolled by and busted them.

“You okay, Daddy? You kinda made a
noise.” Carson’s sweet chirp dragged Caleb out of the sexual fog of memories
and the groan he’d released under his breath.

He looked over at Rosemary’s
cut-that-out
expression and then into his son’s concerned face. “Just hungry, buddy. It’s
been so long since our pancakes, right?”

“It’s been two whole hours,” Rosemary
inserted dryly.

“Yeah, but you know pancakes. Two hours
later and you’re starving.”

She snickered. “That’s Chinese food, not
pancakes.”

“Same difference.” Sweeping up his
giggling son in one arm, Caleb tugged Rosemary forward with his free hand.
“Come on, let’s hit the merry-go-round before we eat so we won’t get pukey.”

“I want the camel! I want the camel!”
Carson bounced madly, his fingers twisted into Caleb’s shirt collar. “Daddy,
the camel, okay?”

“You got it, son. As long as nobody else
is riding on it.”

A light breeze ruffled the edges of
Rosemary’s long, loose curls as she walked beside him. She wore faded Levi’s
that clung to every luscious curve and a thin cotton blouse with no sleeves,
the unbuttoned ends tied beneath her perfect breasts. Each time he eyed that
expanse of creamy pale midriff she’d left bare, Caleb broke out in a sweat. A
pair of dusty, beat-up red leather Dingos with squared off toes peeked from the
frayed hem of her jeans. He vaguely remembered them from years ago and couldn’t
believe she’d kept them all this time. Without a speck of lipstick or anything
else on her face, she looked no more than sixteen.

Then she glanced sideways and gave him a
smile, lips parted slightly and showing a flash of straight, white teeth.

Unable to look away from her beauty, every
muscle in his body tightened and clenched with need.
This woman.
Only
Rosemary. There’d never be anyone else for him.

When Carson wriggled to get down, then
tugged on his hand, Caleb blinked and shook his head. His cheeks heated like a
teenager, and from just a single smoldering glance from the fiery redhead
standing so close to him.

He broke the contact between them,
squatting next to his son whose excitement had him bouncing in his scuffed
hi-top sneakers. “You got a bee up your butt, partner?” he teased gently.

Carson waved his arms in a childish
frenzy. “Daddy, the camel!” He squirmed impatiently.

The music from a piping calliope floated
on the air, and Caleb turned toward the familiar tune. There sat the carousel,
an antique marvel of what modern restoration could accomplish. When Caleb was a
kid, the carousel worked but its colors had been faded, with the tips of equine
ears broken off and paint missing from saddles and muzzles. Somebody had spent
a shitload of money to bring the ride to its former glory. It now sparkled in
the sun, packed with joyous children riding their favorite animals with happy
abandon, while their parents waved and snapped pictures.

“Can we go? Please?” Carson tugged at
both their hands.

Rosemary’s laughter floated across the
air as she allowed Carson to drag her forward, while Caleb pretended to protest
and lag behind. More determined than ever, their son pulled harder until they
all stood at the chainlink fence circling the carousel. He would have bolted
through the gate if Rosemary hadn’t grabbed the back of his shirt.

“Carson, calm down. We have to buy
tickets, then wait our turn.” She knelt and traced a gentle finger along his
pouting lower lip. “That camel isn’t going anywhere, honey. You and Daddy get
the tickets, and I’ll hold your place in line.” She lifted his chin. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, then gave her a
hopeful look. “Can I ride as much as I want?”

Caleb couldn’t contain his snort of
laughter. “What an operator.” He ruffled his son’s soft curls. “Come on, let’s
go buy some tickets. Maybe a roll of them.” His promised got Carson squealing
ecstatically and jumping up and down.

As Caleb grinned at his son’s antics, Rosemary
leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss, a fast, hot flick of her tongue, and
a parting shot.

“Sucker.”

***

Waiting in line at the carousel,
Rosemary pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. The kiss she’d given Caleb
had been meant as a silly tease, but even a touch of that mouth on hers made
her center clutch. She sucked in a steadying breath just as a hand tapped her
shoulder.

“Hey, Rosie! How’ve you been?” Miranda
Benson, nicknamed ‘Mimi’ since childhood, stood behind her in line, three
giggling boys holding onto the conch belt cinching her narrow cowgirl hips.

Mimi had made the women’s rodeo circuit
in Dustin and Cheyenne during her teen years, whittling the baby fat from her
body like only an extreme workout of riding and roping could do. Younger by two
years, Mimi’s sister Dwana had followed in her footsteps, taking it even
further and becoming a professional roper on the circuit. Mimi had dropped out
to marry, and her husband Frank moved the family to Cheyenne last year.

Rosemary had lost touch with both Mimi
and Dwana, catching up only here and there when Mimi and the boys came to town.

She gave Mimi a quick hug. “Hi, Mimi.
I’ve been good. You?”

“Been good. Busy.” She blew honey blonde
curls off her forehead.

“Where’s Frank?” Rosemary hadn’t seen
him walk up.

“Trucking as usual.” Mimi rolled her
eyes. “Big load to Montana. He’ll be back tomorrow.” Her smile held the
weariness as well as the fortitude of a long-haul trucker’s wife.

Rosemary stood back and grinned at the
trio of chubby-cheeked faces peering at her. “I can’t believe how big your boys
have grown.” She opened her arms to collect the adorable herd, identical
triplets with their mother’s sky-blue eyes and their dad’s black hair. As the
boys huddled close in a wriggling snuggle, she glanced up at Mimi. “Are you
here for the day?”

“Yep. There’s nothing like this in
Cheyenne, damn it all. And we promised the boys.” Mimi tousled two heads and
snickered at their indignant groans. “Little buggers are starved as usual. But
they begged to ride first, then we’re going to Sonic.” She looked around curiously.
“Where’s that cutie of yours? Are you here all day, too?”

“Well, I—” Rosemary didn’t get any
farther, because Mimi’s jaw unhinged in a gape. Tensing, Rosemary looked over
her shoulder as Caleb and Carson strolled along the carousel boundary, hand in
hand.

“Is that—oh, my—um . . .” Mimi turned a
shocked face to her. “Caleb Johnson.” She flicked him another glance. “When did
he blow in? Are you two together?”

Rosemary sighed as she released the boys
so they could run to the fence and watch the carousel spin. “He got in about
ten days ago. It’s kind of a long story, Mimi. I guess you could say we’re
trying it out to see if it fits.” She scraped her hair back from her face with
fingers that held a tremble. “Carson adores him.”

“Does he know who Caleb is?”

“Oh, yes.” She gestured helplessly.
“What else can I do? I have to give this a chance.”

“Yeah.” Mimi nodded in empathy. “I get
it, believe me. You remember what Frank and I went through. I knew damned well
the man didn’t want to get married even with three babies on the way. My daddy
threatened him with a shotgun.” She winked. “It wasn’t loaded, thank God. Of
course Frank loved me back then but he was an immature ass. He’s grown up a
lot.” She squeezed Rosemary’s arm reassuringly. “I always liked Caleb even if
he was a wild one. He has steady eyes.”

Before Rosemary could respond, Carson
spotted them and screeched, “Mimi Moo!” He broke from Caleb’s grip and tore up
to Mimi, flinging his arms wide. With a laugh, she dropped to her knees and
cuddled him tightly.

“Mimi Moo?” Caleb murmured as he stepped
to Rosemary’s side and slipped an arm around her.

She had to chuckle a bit. “You remember
Miranda, right? Carson called her that silly nickname because of the calf she
and the triplets raised for 4-H last year. It kind of stuck.”

Mimi got to her feet, and assessed Caleb
appraisingly. “As I live and breathe, he’s back.” She gave his cowboy hat a tug
and it fell over his forehead. “Good to see you, Caleb. Whatcha think of this
short stack?” She tickled Carson under his ear, making him squeal.

Caleb thumbed his hat back into place.
His lips twitched. “He’s okay in a pinch.”

When Carson launched himself against his
legs, Caleb swung him over his shoulder like a sack of feed. “Kind of scrawny
but we’ll take care of that.” He swatted his son’s backside and Carson shrieked
with laughter, hanging upside down. He dug ten mischievous fingers in the
vicinity of his daddy’s ribs and the two of them tussled while Rosemary grinned
like a star-struck fangirl. She couldn’t help herself.

Caleb pulled Carson right side up and
hefted him in one arm. He turned to study Mimi’s boys, who were shoving each other
noisily as they ran up to their mother. “There’s a rowdy bunch. Yours?”

She nodded and reined them in with
practiced hands.

“How old are you cowpokes?” he asked the
boys.

“Four!” they hollered in unison. Mimi
winced, but her expression held plenty of pride.

“Miranda, I’m impressed. Good on ya.”
Caleb tipped his hat to her and she loosed a deep chortle.

“Same goes, Johnson. You’ve got yourself
a terrific kid. I’m glad to see you back.” She leaned in and added in a
not-so-subtle murmur, “Hang smart, y’hear?”

Rosemary groaned, “Mimi, for cripe’s
sake.”

Winking, Mimi touched her arm. “I’ve got
an idea. Why don’t you let us take the little stinker for a while? He can jump
on some rides with the boys and have lunch with us. Probably Sonic.” She nodded
toward Caleb and they both watched him balance Carson on the tops of his boots.
He shuffled his feet, bouncing Carson up and sideways, eliciting a fit of
giggles.

Rosemary parted her lips to demur as
Mimi raised her voice to catch Carson’s attention. “Hey, squirt, wanna hang out
with the boys and chow down on some corn dogs over at Sonic?”

“Yeah! Onion rings, too?” Carson jumped
off Caleb’s feet and ran up to Rosemary. “Can I, Mommy?”

“Oh, I don’t know, honey—” As she
vacillated, unsure, Carson turned to his father with a child’s innate knowledge
of how to pit one parent against the other.

“Daddy, can I, please?” The soft plea in
their son’s voice was lethal, and Caleb wouldn’t withstand its appeal any more
than she could. Behind her, Mimi coughed rudely.

“Ask Mommy, and what she says, goes.
Okay?” Caleb hunkered down to their son’s level. “And you can have all the
tickets we bought as long as you share with the boys. But you have to be really
good and do everything Mimi says. You understand?” At Carson’s frantic nod,
Caleb squinted up at Rosemary from beneath his hat. “What d’ya think, warden?
Should we spring the kid?”

She could no more resist those bedroom
eyes of his, any more than the puppy-dog looks Carson bombarded her with. “Oh,
all right. But if I hear of one single problem, you’re in for it.” She braced
herself for Carson’s whoop of joy and the impact of his sturdy little body
against hers.

A few minutes later the Bensons were
off, with Carson holding two of the triplets’ hands and Mimi clutching the
third boy. Probably Kenny, who she recalled was the most rambunctious of the
three. Kevin and Keith would willingly stick by Carson.

As Rosemary waved at Mimi, she felt a
strong arm slip around her waist. Caleb pulled her into his chest and she
shivered at the feel of those hard muscles at her back.

His free hand nudged her hair out of the
way, then trailed along her neck. His lips followed, brushing over her skin,
the tenor of his breathing accelerating when she relaxed against his body in
surrender. Loving the way he nibbled and licked, Rosemary refused to think of
who might be around, watching or judging her. It didn’t really concern anyone
but them.

“Let’s take a walk,” he whispered
unsteadily in her ear.

She could feel the mad thump of her
heart. Everywhere their bodies touched, heat was generating, blistering what
remained of her common sense.