The Rancher's Twin Troubles (9 page)

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Authors: Laura Marie Altom

BOOK: The Rancher's Twin Troubles
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Sharply looking away, she said, “You were right. I should go.” She stood, but with his hands to her shoulders, he urged her down.

“Sorry. My question was innocent enough. Last thing I intended was to dredge up an awful time.”

“I appreciate your apology, but it's best I go.” This time when she stood, he didn't stop her.

Hands in his pockets, he admitted, “I—I don't know what to say.”

“No one does.” Already on the stairs, she beat him to the bottom.

Chasing, he tried stopping her from taking her jacket from the wall peg, but was too late. “Please, stay. I'm a pig.”

“Far from it. To the contrary, I'm a woman whose husband was so desperate to escape her he put a bullet in his head.”

Chapter Nine

Josie escaped to her car with Dallas running barefoot after her. “Get back in the house,” she barked. “Your girls are alone.”

“Just this once, they'll survive.” He braced his hands on her car door. “Right now, you're my main concern. You can't drop a bombshell like that and then run.”

“Watch me.” She started the engine.

“Knock it off. Why the hell are you pissed? I asked a legit question, you told me the answer. End of story. We never need speak of it again.”

“Just because we're not talking about it,” she snapped, gripping the steering wheel with all of her might, “doesn't mean what Hugh did isn't always going to be with me. His blood has become a stain on my soul.” She wasn't upset with Dallas, she was grateful to him for jolting her back to reality. She'd enjoyed feeling needed. Too much. Lounging in a big, comfy bed with an attractive man and his girls had been like fate waving a huge, red warning flag smack in front of her face.

Don't get too close.

“Josie, please… Sure, I'd like to talk this out, but beyond that, I still need help with the girls.”

Exasperated with this man who was incapable of doing a task as simple as holding comforting cool cloths to his daughters' heads, Josie shot him a look of raw disgust before aiming her car away from his maddeningly handsome face.

 

“H
ENRY,”
D
ALLAS SAID
as he entered the barn office later that afternoon. The twins had slept off whatever had been ailing them and, after having them checked out by Wren, he'd helped saddle their ponies. Though low clouds hugged brown earth, the air smelling of wet leaves and straw, Dallas figured fresh air never did a body harm. “That woman's maddening as they come.”

“Which one?” Henry asked, not looking up from whittling the body of a toy car. By each Christmas, he'd made dozens of them for a local church. The guy loved kids, and it warmed Dallas's heart that the same man who'd been a friend and confidant to him while growing up was now doing the same for the next generation of Buckhorns. “Ask me, any female over the age of ten is more trouble than she's worth.”

Glancing up from the feed order, Dallas chuckled. “That's just because you've yet to find a woman who'd have you.”

The old coot shook his hat-covered head.

“Anyway, I was talking about the girls' teacher.”

“Pretty thing.” He chipped off the portion of the pine block he'd use as a fender. “Like that mess of red hair.”

“Me, too.” Alas, she also possessed a forked tongue with the venom to match.

“So what's your problem?” He set his work aside on a battered leather trunk filling in as a side table. Using a whisk broom, he made quick work of cleaning his mess. “It's fixin' to rain again and I figure I'd better wrangle down the twins.”

“I'll get them,” Dallas volunteered, still fuming from Josie's digs at his daddy skills. “And, anyway, all I was gonna say is that the woman makes me crazy. One minute, running hot. Next, biting like a January wind.”

Shrugging, Henry tipped his hat. “Ask me, you're better off on your own.” Alongside the desk, the grizzled cowboy patted Dallas's back. “Come on. We'll get the girls in together, then have that sister-in-law of yours watch them while we grab a couple beers.”

 

“B
ET YOU TEN BUCKS YOU
won't climb that sexy behind up on the pool table and give us a dance.”

“Oh.” Josie tipped back the remains of her rum and Coke, flashing the cowboy at the bar her brightest smile. “After I've had a few more of these, I'll take you up on that bet and raise you twenty.” Remington's Bar and Motel out by the toll road had a reputation around Weed Gulch for being the kind of establishment ladies didn't frequent, but so far, Josie had found all of the men to be extraordinarily nice—unlike Dallas.

With honky-tonk country music blaring from the jukebox, she ordered another drink before hopping down from her barstool to dance. Her favorite red boots stood
out in stark contrast against the wood floor, making her giggle. Dancing was fun!

Someone in the growing crowd wolf whistled, only spurring her on. Removing the ponytail holder that held her hair, she bent at her waist, flipping her curls down and back, giving them a good shake. If these boys wanted a show, she wouldn't disappoint. Hugh might not have wanted her, but there were plenty of other men who'd be proud to have her for their girl.

Music pumping, she unbuttoned the top of her plaid blouse, showing just enough cleavage to tease before undoing the bottom as well, tying the tails halter style.

“Take it all off!” A man in the crowd shouted.

“You wish,” she teased with a flirty sashay of her prairie skirt. “But if one of you bring me another rum and Coke with extra cherries, you might just get an extra-warm thank-you in return.”

“Woo-hoo!” several men shouted, pumping their fists.

“Someone get this girl more rum!” a T-shirt-wearing trucker shouted. “We've got us a stripper ready to go!”

Swaying her hips in smooth figure eights while her audience cheered, Josie had just bent low enough to give the men in the front row more to cheer about when the music abruptly stopped.

“What gives?” one guy who'd been especially into her show groused.

Parting the crowd was Dallas.

Standing a good six inches taller than any of the men
around him, the stony set of his jaw told all assembled to steer clear.

“Josie.” He grated his words from between clenched teeth. “You need to get the hell out of here.”

“Make me,” she taunted with a shake of her hips.

Growling, he stepped up, grasped her about the thighs and swung her over his shoulder with no more care than if she'd been a feed sack bound for the horse barn.

“Put me down!” she shrieked, pummeling and kicking as he swept her through the gaping crowd.

“Hey!” the trucker protested. “Bring her back! This was just getting good!”

Ignoring the many complaints, as well as her continued shrieking, Dallas marched right out the door. Once he'd crossed from the bar lot over to the motel's, he finally set Josie to her feet. “What the hell kind of stunt were you pulling? You're a freakin' kindergarten teacher. Aren't you right up there on the virgin meter next to nuns?”

“News flash,” Josie said, hands on her hips, “but I'm a grown woman and if I want to dance in a honky-tonk or anywhere else, I damn well will.”

He winced. “No cussing from you, either—and button your shirt.”

Raising her chin, she sassed, “I will cuss and strip whenever and wherever I like, thank you very much.”

“Look, I did you a favor. Do you really want some clown chronicling your striptease on his phone, then posting it on the Web for the world to see?”

“Like that would ever happen. I was just having fun.”

“Taking off your clothes?” Growling in frustration, he tossed his head back. “You're a disaster. How much have you had to drink?”

Giggling, she admitted, “Two. The cherries were
really
yummy.”

“Uh-huh…” Glancing about the empty parking lot, he said, “Let's get you home.”

“No.” After stomping her foot to show him she meant business, she turned back to the bar. “I came here to find a man who won't hurt me, and I'm not leaving till I do.”

Dragging her back by her shirtsleeve, he asked, “Of all places in Oklahoma to find a man, why here?”

Biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I already went the traditional route—marrying a guy from college. You know what happened there. I've dated around, but they were all duds. Then there's you—has there
ever
been a bigger walking disaster?”

“Me?” He coughed. “I must need a few more shots of whiskey, because I thought you just said I'm not date worthy.”

“Oh—I did.” Her exaggerated nod made her yawn. Who knew dancing could be such hard work? “You're a lousy parent, don't appreciate even half of the blessings you've been given—worst of all…” she made a drum beat on the battered Ford pickup alongside her “…you're a tease.”

“E-excuse me?”

“Oh—don't go pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. The night I shared dinner with your
family, and then we played Five Minutes in Heaven by the pool, you kissed me breathless. You kissed me until I was consumed with nothing but horrible thoughts of having you inside me, but—” Lowering her voice, she asked, “Wanna know a secret?”

Arms crossed, Dallas leaned on a Chevy and said, “Why not?”

“I'm a kindergarten teacher. I'm not supposed to even know naughty things, let alone think them! It's bad. Very, very bad. And, anyway, since you're a horrible tease, I suspect you don't even know how to
truly
please a woman.”

“That a challenge?” The bar door opened and three drunken rednecks spilled out, carrying with them laughter and the chorus of a country song about whiskey making you frisky. “'Cause if it is…” He crossed to her Ford, bracing his hands on the front fender, effectively, deliciously, caging her in. “I'm more than happy to grab us a room and show you just how wrong you are.”

“Big words, cowboy, but I'm not seeing a lot of follow-through.” What she was getting was an awful lot of quivery, hot sensations overriding the alcohol. Somewhere far in the back of her head, a voice reasoned to call Natalie for a ride home to sleep it off. But how could she possibly do that when a cowboy of epic proportions stood close enough for her to realize the bulge pressing against her midsection was in no way the proverbial flashlight.

Tugging her toward him, he asked, “You sure this isn't just booze talking?”

“Only thing I'm sure of is that even though you annoy
and infuriate me, for some unfathomable reason you still turn me on—despite not being able to deliver.”

“Oh—if that's what you want, sugar, that's exactly what you're gonna get.” He kissed her hard, but then soft, dizzying her with the sweep of his tongue. Suddenly too warm clothes left little to the imagination. It was no secret he wanted her and Josie was hot for him, too. Abruptly sober, tired of being the perpetual good girl, Josie abandoned everything she knew to be right and so-called decent in favor of unbuckling Dallas's big, silver belt buckle. Still kissing, she unfastened the button on his jeans, lowering the zipper to set him free.

He felt like hot, silken steel and she wanted him inside her with a ferocity that bordered on madness. Her rum buzz had been replaced by plain old lust. Breasts swelling and aching against his chest, she wanted to forget all worries and focus on the here and now. On the sensations flooding her limbs with devil-may-care pleasure.

Hefting her skirt, tearing her thong only to let it fall to the gravel lot, Dallas rasped, “Let's get this party started.”

Cloaked in the shadows, he lifted her, urging her legs around him. Hands gripping her buns, he slid her onto his erection. She gasped from his initial size, but then opened, taking him in, making them one.

Her backside cold against the Ford, the front of her felt superheated, clinging to him, trusting him to make everything better.

Lowering his mouth to her chest and then breasts, he sucked, biting through her lacy bra. Nipples hard, raw
with sensation, his actions only worsened the wondrous tension building within her.

In and out he thrust with her clinging, clawing his back with her hands beneath his shirt. When the pleasure-pain was nearly too much to bear, white-hot heat drowned her in its light.

He tensed and then shuddered, with the bulk of her weight still resting on the truck, he nuzzled her neck, moving his attentions upward, ultimately landing on swollen lips.

“Take it back,” he said, voice still sex-raspy.

“What?” she teased, knowing full well what he meant. The man might be a lot of things, but in this particular area, he'd more than delivered.

His growl culminated in another kiss that rocketed to her toes. “We're going to regret this in the morning.”

With him still inside her, she refused to think further than the next few seconds in his arms.

“I already do,” she admitted, yanking her skirt back to a decent level once he'd landed her on her feet. “I don't know what came over me.”

“Judging by your taste, rum,” Dallas mumbled, zipping his fly. “In my case, beer.”

While each fumbled with the business of straightening their clothes, Josie fought the niggling fear that not only had she made a fool of herself, but she was also on the verge of being sick. What had she done? Why? Was she really so hard up for validation?

“I'm sorry,” Dallas finally said, kicking gravel with the toe of his boot. “I never meant for this to happen—”

“I feel the same. Trust me, we need never speak of it again.”

An audible sigh told the story of his relief. “You're in no shape to drive. Can I give you a lift? My ranch foreman will handle getting your car home.”

Wanting to refuse, Josie mumbled her thanks, knowing Dallas was just being practical.

What she couldn't say—would
never
say—was that no matter how ill-advised their actions had just been, she feared it would be a good long while before she forgot his feel and taste. A horrible fate, considering she never wanted to see or think of the man again!

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