Wild: Wildfire

Dean MacLeod shifted in her saddle to alleviate the ache between her thighs as she watched her ranch hands count the cattle they’d rounded up over the weekend. While she inhaled the familiar smells of dust, livestock, and testosterone, she couldn’t help but enjoy watching the men work. The flex of muscle, lean bodies in tight Wrangler jeans, leather chaps, tanned forearms…

Yummy.

The ache intensified and she shifted again, rubbing her jean-clad crotch over the leather of her saddle. Her panties were drenched and her nipples jutted out beneath her denim shirt. God did it ever turn her on to watch cowboys at work, and she just happened to employ the best looking wranglers in all of Arizona.

The air was filled with the busy hum of deep male voices and the low of cattle. Saddle leather creaked as she leaned down and rubbed her mare’s neck, wondering what the men would think if she cried out with an orgasm right here by the corral. Considering that behind her back she was known as “Dean the Ice Queen,” those cowboys might just tumble out of their saddles if they had any idea how erotic her thoughts were.

Damn but she needed a man. Only she’d yet to find one worth keeping.

Not since Jake Reynolds.

She frowned and straightened in her saddle. Why in the hell was she thinking about him after all these years? She was definitely over that man ages ago.

Pushing up the brim of her straw Resistol, Dean’s gaze followed Jess Lawless, her new foreman. Now there was one fine looking male specimen—luscious dark brown hair, wicked blue eyes and a body that was made for sex.

In the past month since she’d hired him, she’d considered breaking her own no-dating-employees-rule when it came to Jess, and she had the impression he’d be more than happy to take her up on it. But she also knew better than to complicate things by getting involved. She never intended to get serious about anyone ever again, so why complicate a perfectly good business relationship?

Of course there was always Kev Grand, who owned the Bar One, the ranch neighboring hers. For years the man had made it clear he wanted her. She’d dated him a few times recently, but when he’d tried to do more than kiss her, she’d put him off. Mustached, blonde and hazel-eyed, he was a handsome man, but she just never felt that sizzle with him like she had with Jake.

Dammit
. She had to get over the idiot. Ten years was too long to have that man come into her mind and trample all over her libido.

Sweat trickled between her breasts and she unfastened another snap on her shirt, hoping a light wind would kick up and cool her skin. September sunshine warmed her face, the sky an achingly clear blue. Not even a breeze stirred the mesquite bushes and tumbleweeds on her ranch.

September.
A strange sensation came over her as her thoughts turned to another September—ten years ago, when she’d met Jake Reynolds.

Her hand automatically moved to her throat and she closed her eyes as a memory came to her, sharp and vivid. The sound of his deep voice calling her Dee, rather than Dean like everyone else did. His sinful grin, his muscled chest and athletic thighs. And the feel of his huge cock as he slid inside her—

“Dean?”

She snapped her eyes open, a rush of heat engulfing her as she looked into Jess’s blue gaze. He was sitting astride his mare. His face was coated with dirt and sweat, and damn if that didn’t make him look even sexier.

With his forefinger he pushed up the brim of his Stetson, his handsome face creased into a frown. “You all right, boss?”

“You know it.” She pulled her shirt away from her chest, trying to cool off, and pretended not to notice how his gaze drifted to her cleavage. “Where do we stand with the count?”

“Thieving bastards.” Jess’s jaw tightened and his features hardened. “We’re down fifty head.”

“
Fifty
?” She rolled her eyes skyward, unable to believe what he’d just said. “How the hell did they steal so many without us catching them?”

Jess’s gaze had a predatory gleam before he tugged his mare’s reins and turned back toward the corral. “I don’t know,” he said over his shoulder, “but I aim to find out.”

With a groan of frustrations, Dean guided Shadow across the rangeland and to the ranch house to take a quick bath. So much for feeling horny. Jess’s news was a cold shower on her arousal, giving her more important things to think about than getting laid.

* * * * *

It was a road he hadn’t traveled for almost ten years, Jake Reynolds realized as his truck hit a pothole, jarring his teeth along with his memories.

Sunshine glinted off the windshield, endless acres of grass and barbwire fence scrolling by as he guided the truck down the dirt road to the MacLeod ranch. One of the largest ranches in the county, the Flying M was ten miles outside Douglas, a dingy town along the Mexico border in southeastern Arizona.

September
. It had been September when he’d first met Dean MacLeod. And then he’d gone and left her six months later.

Jake’s truck shimmied along the dirt road, but he barely noticed as his thoughts turned to Dee—her smile that had held all the innocence of youth and all the promise of Eve. Her seductive eyes, an unusual color of green, the same shade as her August birthstone. Her auburn hair and the tantalizing mole above her left breast. And God, those legs. Long legs she’d clamped around his hips, and her sensual cries as he buried himself inside her.

Damn
. His cock had grown hard just thinking about her.

Jake gritted his teeth as he thought about the girl—the woman—he’d walked away from all those years ago. She’d been nineteen, starting her first year of college, and he’d been twenty-two, a deputy with the county sheriff’s department. She’d been so young, so vibrant. And he’d nearly crushed her heart, leaving her like he did.

But at the time he thought he’d done the right thing when he’d told her goodbye. That she’d been too young.
He’d
been too young.

Being bad at long-term relationships was in his genes—at least that’s what he’d thought back then. His parents had divorced when he was a teenager. Even his brother Nick’s marriage had lasted less than a year, and he had always been the stable one in the family.

When Dee had told Jake that she loved him, when she started talking about raising a family, it had scared the hell out of him. He told her he wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility and it would be best if they called it quits. And he’d turned around and walked out of her life.

She was probably married now with a couple of rugrats and living off in a city in some other state. As his truck neared the MacLeod Ranch, Jake tried to comfort himself by imagining her a bit wider in the hips with bags under her eyes, and maybe a few strands of gray from chasing her kids around.

Who was he kidding? She’d still look great.

When Jake had made the decision to transfer to Douglas to be closer to his ailing mother, a part of him had hoped Dee would still be here. That they could pick up where they’d left off.

He slowed the truck as he crossed over the cattle guard that rattled and thrummed under the wheels of his 4 x 4. Herds of sleek Black Angus lined each side of the road, lifting their heads to watch him pass by and then returning to graze.

Apparently the rains had been good that summer, as the grass was still green in patches, and plentiful. He noted the well-kept barbwire fences, stock tanks and windmill. Ron MacLeod always did keep his place in fine shape, and he certainly had the money to do it.

Jake didn’t expect his gut to clench the way it did when he drove up to the sprawling ranch house. A vivid memory of Dee came to him. Of her running from the front porch to greet him, her smile brilliant, throwing her arms around his neck and treating him to her soft lips. Her husky voice telling him she missed him, and her firm body pressed tight to his.

With a groan, he brought the truck to a halt in front of the MacLeod residence, dust swirling around his vehicle in a beige cloud. He took in the changes of the last ten years. The oak trees and weeping willows were taller and the porch that ran the length of the house was practically overflowing with houseplants—a woman’s touch.

Had Ron gone and remarried? After Nancy MacLeod’s death, everyone was sure Ron would never tie the knot again.

Jake’s gaze passed beyond the house, extensive barn, corrals and ranch buildings, to the tawny mountains rising behind. The old tire swing still hung from the lower branch of the oak in front of the barn. He remembered pushing Dee in that tire, spinning it around, and claiming a kiss when he caught her to him.

Jake crammed his black Stetson on his head, climbed out of the truck and slammed the door a little too hard. Shoving the memories to the back of his mind, he headed up the steps then through the maze of plants on the porch. Wind chimes hanging from the porch’s beams made a haunting sound as a breeze stirred. Almost ghostly.

But the only ghosts around were the memories of Dee. He knocked. No answer. Ron must be off working on horseback or in his truck. Jake was about to leave his card in the door when he heard a shriek.

Hair prickled at the base of his neck and he automatically grabbed his gun from the holster at his back. The scream had come from the barn. Jake made sure everything was clear and hurried to the barn, his boots making no sound as he crossed the hard packed earth.

Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Pausing beside the open barn door, he listened, his heart beating a rapid rhythm.

“You little—” a woman said, and then a thump and another cry.

He rounded the doorway, his weapon raised. Dee MacLeod was sprawled on the barn floor with her back against a hay bale, her blouse gaping open. She was glaring into a horse stall.

Jake clenched his jaw. He’d kill the man who’d dared to lay a finger on Dee.

“Come out with your hands up!” he shouted, his eyes focused on the stall, his body crouched and prepared for the slightest movement. “Nice and slow and no one’ll get hurt.”

He heard a noise from Dee that he thought was a sob, and then he realized it was laughter. He allowed himself a glance in her direction and saw Dee shaking her head and giggling.

“What the hell’s going on?” he muttered, not relaxing his stance.

“Go ahead, arrest the little S.O.B.” Dee waved toward the stall. “Cuff him while you’re at it. Once you’ve frisked the bugger, that is. I’ll get a kick out of seeing you try.”

He eased closer to the open stall and peered over the side rail to find a black calf straining against a rope tie. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as Dee snickered behind him.

“I’m gonna have to take you in, son,” he said with mock seriousness to the fire-eyed calf. “For disturbing the peace and knocking around a beautiful woman.”

The moment the last two words were out of his mouth, Dee’s laughter died. Jake turned to look at her, and he could see reality sinking in. Recognition dawning on her pretty face, changing her smile to a small frown.

Now, she knew. After all these years and that awful goodbye, Jake had come back to Douglas. Hurt, pride and anger flashed across her face, and then worse—an expression of indifference.

He holstered his gun then extended his hand in an offer to help Dee to her feet. She moved her fingers to her neck, seeming unable to decide if she should ignore his hand, or accept it.

He’d forgotten that nervous habit of hers. How she’d rub the base of her throat when she was feeling self-conscious or uneasy, leaving the fair skin red. And how he’d loved to kiss that soft skin whenever she did that.

As though she could hear his thoughts, she moved her fingers away from her throat. With a little tilt of her chin, she reached up and clasped his hand.

That touch, that simple touch, brought back every bit of yearning he’d ever had for her, and even when she was standing, he couldn’t let go. She was tall, only four inches shorter than his six feet two. The perfect height for kissing.

And God, she still smelled the same—of the wind after a summer storm and orange blossoms, the scent that always drove him wild. Memories flowed through him—of how she had explored every part of his body with her inquisitive fingers, her sexy mouth, her sweet tongue.

“Dee.” Jake’s voice was husky with longing.

“It’s Dean, not Dee.” She jerked her hand from his and dusted off the seat of her jeans, never taking her eyes from his.

“Ah, sure.” Jake’s gaze dropped to the rise and fall of her chest, and his throat went dry. Dee’s open denim shirt exposed the swell of her breasts and taut nipples beneath a peach satin bra. Satin that he knew could be no softer than the satin of her breasts. Breasts that he wanted to caress. Nipples he wanted to taste, right there in the barn.

“You might want to fix that.” He gestured toward her shirt, holding himself back from attempting to snap it up himself. Or rather, rip the rest of the snaps open and take her right here in the barn.

Pink touched Dee’s cheeks as she glanced down and then snapped her shirt closed. He took the opportunity to study her long legs in snug jeans, her auburn hair escaping the single braid that fell across her shoulder as she bent over. When she finished, she lifted her head and her green eyes met his.

“It’s been a long time,” Jake said softly.

“Yes. It has.” Frowning, Dee took a step forward, and to his surprise she reached out her hand and touched the scar that creased his left cheek. Just that slight contact was enough to make him hard in a hurry. “What happened?”

Jake shrugged. “Drug bust that went down a little wild.”

“A little more than wild, I’d say.” Her finger trailed the scar that went from his ear almost to his mouth. She paused, her gaze riveted on his lips, and he all but stopped breathing.

Dee jerked her hand away and took a step back, her cheeks going pink again. “So. What are you doing here?”

I came back for you.
Likely Dee wouldn’t be too keen on him telling her he’d come back for her ten years after he left. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “Is your dad around?”

A glimmer of laughter came back into her eyes. “If he was, he’d likely run you off with his old Remington.”

“I was afraid of that.” Jake’s mouth turned up in a self-deprecating grin, and then his tone went serious. “I’ve missed you.”

She cocked her head and studied him for a moment. “Did you have anything in particular to say to my dad, or something you can tell me?”

Jake fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his Wranglers, drew out his business card and handed it to her.

Dee took it from him, her fingertips lightly brushing his, and glanced at the card. “So, you’re now a Special Agent with Customs.”

“I transferred to Douglas last week,” he said as he slid his wallet into his back pocket. “I’m out introducing myself to ranchers in the area. The mountains behind your ranch are being used to smuggle narcotics from Mexico.”

“What’s new? That’s been going on for years.” Dee shrugged. “Enough drugs and illegals come through that range to keep every cop in the U.S. busy.”

Jake frowned. True, it was common knowledge, but it still bothered him that Dee seemed so unconcerned that danger was at her back door. “If you see anything suspicious, give me a call.”

She fixed a smile on her face as she shoved the card into the front pocket of her jeans. “Great, Agent Reynolds.”

“Agent Reynolds?” He shook his head. “I was kinda hoping I’d still be just Jake to you, Dee.”

“Dean, not Dee.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “So that’s why you came back?”

“I requested the transfer.” He shrugged. “My mom’s not doing so good.”

Dee’s features softened into concern. “Is she okay?”

“She’s pretty much housebound, and she’s lonely as hell.” Jake scowled at himself. “I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.”

And I should never have left you.

A black horse whickered and poked its head over a stall door, and Dee moved toward it. “How’s my boy?” she murmured as she rubbed the horse’s muzzle.

She stood in a shaft of sunlight and Jake’s breath caught in his throat. Dust motes swirled in the air around Dee, and her hair shone like burnished copper.

“How’s your brother doing?” she asked, her attention on the horse.

Jake swallowed, wishing Dee was stroking him instead of the damn horse. “Nick’s with the county Sheriff’s Department. What’s your sister up to?”

“Trace got a wild hair after she graduated from college and she’s been in Europe ever since.” Dee rubbed the horse behind his ears. “Sometime before Christmas she’ll be coming home. First visit in four years.”

Jake gave a low whistle. “That’s a long time to be gone from home.”

“You should know.” Dee patted the horse’s neck and turned back to Jake. “I heard you were stationed along the Texas border.”

“From the time I graduated from the academy.” He moved closer, wanting to be near her. “How about you? What’ve you been up to all this time?”

Dee flicked a piece of straw off the top of the stall. “Other than trying to figure out who swiped fifty head of cattle, not a whole hell of a lot.”

“Rustlers?”

“Yeah.” She grimaced. “Week before last it started. A dozen or so heifers just up and missing. But now it looks like the bastards are getting cockier.”

His mouth tightened. “Or stupider.”

With a sigh that made her frustration clear, she leaned back and braced her arms on the stall behind her. The motion caused her breasts to jut out and her blouse to gape, showing that satin bra and her generous cleavage.

Jake swallowed. Hard. “When’ll your dad be back?”

“He was here a week ago, so he’s not likely to visit for at least a couple of months. We expect him and his new wife for Thanksgiving or Christmas, not sure which.”